I was in fact mentally, as well as bodily exhausted3; I had reached the very depths of disgust; nothing seemed worth doing, everything was useless; work was worse than useless, a foolishness; pleasure—nothing was a pleasure. Like one of old I cried out: “All is vanity and vexation of spirit.”
I went into the country; not to a distant railway station, to become one of a dissatisfied mob at a crowded summer hotel, but into the very heart of the green hills, where the limpid5 streams gurgled for very joy, as they frolicked on their way to the distant river; where the woods were so dense6 that the sun could only play hide and seek with the softly fluttering leaves, once in a while touching7 the soft mossy carpet, or the glossy8 leaves of the scarlet9 checkerberries lovingly.
Here I found the dearest, quaintest11 old houses 153with pointed12 gables under which the noisy swallows built their nests of mud—a house with small, many-paned windows, and great, yawning fireplaces.
The simple-hearted old people who owned the place welcomed me with unaffected curiosity.
I dawdled14 in the evenings in the sitting room with grandpa and grandma Yoeman, with no light save the flickering15 blaze of the hickory logs; idly watching the pictures in the glowing coals, and dreaming strange sweet dreams, which ever held a reflection of entrancing sadness.
The fitful blaze cast strange lights and shadows on the low ceiling; glinting on grandma’s busy knitting needles; brightening and fading like an uncertain life.
Occasionally one of the neighbors came in to exchange news about the planting; to borrow or “swap” garden seeds; to speculate on the weather; the greater reason being to see the city boarder.
Sometimes their frank inquisitiveness16 amused, at other times it annoyed me.
I had been there a month; the weather had grown too warm to permit a fire in the evening, and the sitting room looked dismal17 with its one small kerosene18 lamp, around which the moths19 fluttered, and singed20 their foolish wings, nearly obscuring the light.
“Drat the things,” said grandma, from time to time.
Heavy clouds lay low in the west, and the occasional low growling22 of thunder indicated the 154coming of a storm; the breeze scarcely lifted the muslin curtain at the window.
A rush of homesickness came over me; the gloom depressed23 me, and left me wretched; the sultry atmosphere seemed unbearable24; the quaint10, low-ceiled rooms seemed suffocating25, and detestably ugly, and I wondered that I could have thought them so charming.
I hurried away to my room, which was at the further end of the house, to hide my tears. The long, draughty hall seemed filled with lurking26 shadows; I thought it endless, and was sure that the doors were opening on either side as I passed. I dashed open the door of my own room, and for a few breathless minutes crouched28 in the corner most thoroughly29 frightened. Presently, ashamed of my childish terror, I arose and lighted my lamp.
I could not shake off the frightened feeling; the dim, uncertain light of the small lamp left the corners of the room in wavering gloom; the gathering30 clouds sent out their advance signals—a fitful gust4 of moist wind—now and then, which suddenly flapped the curtain at the window as though shaken by an angry hand, and swayed the old-fashioned valance to the bed until I felt ready to scream.
I closed the blinds, turned the blaze of the lamp still higher, endeavoring to make the room look cheerful. Ah, well! The cheerfulness oftener comes from within than without, and I was nervously31 depressed and homesick.
I was in that restless mood in which everything is irksome. I wished to write, I could 155not; a thousand elusive32 fancies floated by me like thistledown; my mind reached out to grasp them—a tantalizing33 caprice of the brain, a feeling of mental inadequacy—and they were gone into the realm of the goblin, Incompetent34.
I threw down the pen: “What a strange thing the brain is! At times docile35 and obedient; again, willful, elusive, exasperating36; a thing over which one has no control,” I cried angrily.
I walked restlessly up and down the room until I was fatigued37, and impatiently threw myself into a great armchair; taking up an unfinished book I tried to read, I turned a page or two without comprehending a thought; I threw the book to the furthest corner of the room in anger and disgust.
Again I walked the floor impatiently, and in the same wretched mood, undressed and went to bed, where I vainly endeavored to sleep.
The clouds, which had been gathering since dusk, now marshalled their forces for battle; the vivid lightning played about the room in wildly fantastic manner; a momentary38 white glare, then the darkness of Inferno39. The heavy thunder growled40 an accompaniment, or broke into a sharp crash, dying away like the angry growl21 of the discomfited41 storm fiend.
The wind arose, and swung the rickety shutters42 to and fro throughout the whole house with many an angry crash; the dead branches of an old tree—standing by the corner window—tapped on the shaking pane13 with ghostly fingers.
I had extinguished my light, the flame annoyed me; and now—from being nervous—I became 156hysterical. Several times, as a vivid glow illumined the room, followed by an awful crash, I screamed outright44; it disturbed no one; grandma and grandpa Yoeman slept in the far end of the house. I became so frightened that I pulled the covers over my head and lay there shivering.
The electrical storm had somewhat subsided45, but the wind was blowing shrilly46, and the rain coming down in sheets.
Some impulse compelled me to uncover my head; a nervous sensation that something or some one was in the room—a terror of the unseen. I drew down the bedclothes, arose on one elbow, and gave a horrified47 scream, which died away in an awful constriction48 of the throat.
A figure floated before my affrighted eyes; now coming toward me a pace, then receding49; disappearing only to return again. It seemed to float in the air with a strange undulating motion. I could not turn my eyes away, although filled with a mortal terror. It stood out like a picture, clear and distinct, as though the body were filled with luminous50 light; the turn of the head, the glint of the hair, suggestive of one whom I had known and hated in the past—which it still drove me mad to remember—as I perceived the likeness51, or as it seemed, the reality, all fear left me; instantly my soul was filled with wrath52; all the old agony came over me like an overwhelming flood; I seemed to feel again all the pangs53 caused by the treachery and deceit of that false friend. I started up with a bitter cry, and rushed at the hated face to rend54 it.
157My hands clutched but empty air! The vision was as elusive as had been my thoughts; I could grasp neither.
I crept back into bed bathed in a cold perspiration55, and such was my mental and bodily exhaustion56 that I sank into a stupor57 and knew no more until morning.
When I awoke the sun was shining brightly, and as I jumped out of bed and threw open the blinds my fears of the past night seemed like an absurd dream.
The face of nature looked so refreshed after her bath; the gentle breeze shook the blossoming lilacs, to which the raindrops still clung like countless58 jewels; their odor came deliciously wafted59 to me as I leaned from the open windows; the grass glittered with clinging moisture among its tender green; a bluebird swung on the branch of a gnarled old apple tree just bursting into bloom and let out a flood of glorious song; a meadow lark60, sitting on the single post which rose above its fellows, accepted the challenge and sang with all his might: “Sweet, sweet, sweet; John G. Whittier!” again and again.
Fear seemed most absurd with all this wealth of sunshine and springing vegetation around me; but grandma Yoeman said to me as I entered the kitchen for breakfast, “You look awfully61 peaked, Miss Eda; was you so ’fraid of the storm that you didn’t sleep well?”
“Oh, I’m all right, grandma!” Nevertheless, I could not eat my breakfast of hot biscuit, golden honey, ham and eggs; although I made a pretense62 158of enjoying the food, as I knew that grandma tried very hard to please me.
When night came my nerves again asserted themselves; every sound made me start apprehensively63. My window was wide open; the great old lilac bushes seemed to lean caressingly64 in, their odor borne to me on the soft, warm wind, as it playfully lifted the thin curtain.
All was so balmy, quiet and sweet that after a time it soothed65 my excited nerves, and I slept soundly until morning.
Thus it continued for two weeks, until I began to think that I must have been dreaming. I saw nothing, I heard nothing more alarming than the rats, which scurried66 up and down between the plastering and the clapboards, or gnawed67 industriously68 at the narrow base.
I had been roaming over the fields all day; I had climbed from rock to rock down the shallow creek69 as happy as a child; I had lain on the last year’s leaves, and plaited a crown of checkerberries, the glossy green of the leaf, and the brilliant red of the berries forming a lovely contrast. I gathered also a great bunch of wild forget-me-nots; it was sunset when I reached home; I placed the flowers on the little stand in front of the mirror, and hung the wreath above it, so that the mirror reflected it like a duplicate.
I retired70 early, and immediately dropped to sleep. Some time during the night I was awakened—it might have been a shutter43 that slammed, or a door in one of the empty rooms—in my half-awakened state it sounded like a pistol shot. As I started up in bed I became conscious 159of an unusual commotion71; the trees were swaying and creaking; the lilacs bent72 and shivered; my curtains were swept straight out into the room, and as I looked with startled eyes the luminous figure once more stood before me, fearfully distinct; the bouquet73 of forget-me-nots I had gathered held in her hand; the crown of leaves and berries resting on her head; even in my awful fright I observed that it was tipped coquettishly over the right side of the head, instead of being set demurely74 on top. She seemed to advance and recede75, waving the flowers at me derisively76; again the resemblance to that woman whom my soul loathed78 struck me with a sickening sense of pain and hatred79.
I had often listened to my old grandmother as she told tales of supernatural visitations and mysterious warnings; of the death watch in the wall, and that immediately following these prognostications some beloved one surely departed this life; she related instances of ghostly tappings on the headboard, and of a deadly chill, like a cadaverous finger, creeping up and down the spine80, to warn the unhappy recipient81 that a stranger was treading on their future grave.
These half-forgotten teachings recurred82 to me with awful vividness, and I experienced the same sensations which drove me, at that time, shivering to my bed to lie with sleepless83 eyes listening for the dread84 signal. I felt sure that this “presence” was a warning that my death was near, and that she brought the message, was an added menace—unless I forgave her. I had never known hate of any other being in my life; I had said egotistically 160that it was not in my nature to hate. Circumstances show us that we have a very limited acquaintance with our capabilities85 and proclivities86; I learned that lesson through fiery87 tribulation88. Another thing which I had been taught as a child now recurred to my mind as a torment89. I had been taught that I must forgive, if I would be forgiven, and that I must love my enemy.
How could I forgive her? Though death, or that punishment which I had been taught would come after death, should stare me in the face, I could not forgive the deliberate wrecking90 of my life’s happiness.
The vision disappeared while these tormenting91 thoughts raced each other through my mind; as suddenly returning, it advanced menacingly toward the bed.
A fresh blast of wind shook the old house from garret to foundation; doors crashed, blinds rattled92 and shook; trees swayed and groaned93 dismally94; the low of the frightened cattle was borne on the wings of the blast; a dog howled dismally from out the darkness. I could look no more; I covered my head and shivered with mortal terror. The following morning I was unable to rise; there was no questioning in my mind. I felt sure that I was doomed95; that the warning was not only of my demise96, but of future punishment as well, unless I forgave the bearer of that message. This last thought continually tortured me. How could I force forgiveness? I might profess97 it, I might even try and cheat myself into thinking it; but the 161turn of a head, the movement of a hand, the tone of a voice, would bring a never-to-be-forgotten picture before my mind, which would give the lie to all my pretense. I hated with just cause, and should I forgive, would I not thereby98 place myself on a level with that creature of debasement? Could I stoop to such forgiveness, and retain my own self-respect? No! no! no! I could pass by; I could leave her and her ways to the inevitable99 punishment that must follow her deeds; I could avoid being in anywise the instrument of vengeance100 in the hand of Providence101, though Providence walked by my side and whispered in my ear temptingly; but forgive her and respect myself I could not; by condoning102 the offense103 I should actually sanction it.
Oh, the agony of that incessant104 thinking! Fighting the battle over and over again, only to cry out despairingly: “I cannot! I cannot!” Day by day my strength diminished; night after night ended in horror and despair.
Sometimes for a night or two the ghostly presence did not appear, then, as hope began to dawn, it suddenly stood leering at me motionlessly; at other times it undulated, advanced and receded105, in maddening fashion. I made all necessary preparations for the end which I felt must be very near; there were none who would mourn me greatly; although I had but one enemy, yet I had few friends; I could not open my heart to the whole world.
I had lived as nearly right as I knew—now another question added to the torment of my 162mind; was I to be punished for that which I did not know? How well I remembered the grim old preacher, who, pacing back and forth106, told us Sabbath after Sabbath that we were certain of punishment because we did not know, that we must repent107; that all were born in sin. I used to think how much better it would have been not to have been born at all than to have to be sorry for something you did not know anything about.
He looked so savage108 as he pounded the pulpit that I used to slip off the seat and try and hide; I thought he was going to help the Lord punish us, and I tried so hard to be sorry, although I did not know for what. Now I was troubled fearing that this was a truth; we are so much more lazy than we wish to admit; we drift with circumstances, and call it fate; we crouch27 down and receive degrading blows because it is so much easier than fighting for the right. Letting things drift had ever been my weakness, I so enjoyed being lazily happy; now I was tormented109 with fear of the sins of omission110.
All through the day I dreaded111 the coming of the night, and the detested112 vision; thus day brought me no solace113 because of harassing114 doubts, and too perplexing questions. I had irritably115 begged grandma Yoeman to take the hated wreath and flowers out of my sight, and from that day to this their sweet, woody odor turns me faint and sick.
The days lengthened116 with the fullness of summer, the petals117 of the apple blossoms covered the ground with their fragrant118 snow, and now the 163green globes hung from the bending boughs119, and the old-fashioned garden was a wealth of color; still I lay languid and helpless, in the low-ceiled room—unheeding the beauty outside—as I lay with my face turned hopelessly to the wall; or if perchance I looked out of the open window, it was but to sigh despairingly: “I shall soon pass away from all things earthly.”
I had watched in vain for the tormenting presence for the past two weeks until my mind was in that strange paradoxical state in which I dreaded, yet anxiously awaited its appearance. I believed that one more visit would surely be the last.
Still another week passed, a week of dread anticipation120; the day had been so invigorating that in spite of my morbid121 imaginings, my overwrought nerves loosed their tension. I had in the afternoon sat by the open window for an hour or two, drinking in the balm of the atmosphere, and when in the dusk I again crept into the bed I felt fatigued, and lying down was restful; the fresh, clean sheets smelled of lavender, and the soft mattress122 seemed fitted to every curve of my body. I nestled my head in the pillow, and with the soft wind blowing through the wide-open window, at once dropped asleep. Once or twice in the earlier part of the night I opened my eyes, drowsily123 conscious that the moon was lighting124 up the room with pale radiance, also vaguely125 realizing an unusual sense of peace and comfort.
It must have been very near morning when I awoke with a sinking sense of fright; perspiration 164stood on my brow cold as death dew; I thought that my hour of dissolution had come. Only the faintest ray of moonlight was visible, as it was disappearing behind a bank of clouds in the west; the wind was whistling shrilly through the trees, and into the room through the open window, between which and the bed, undulated, receded, or darted126 viciously forward the detestable specter.
For a single instant my whole being sank inertly127; I thought the very elements in coalition128 with my tormenter; then a sudden anger, or antagonism—assailed129 me. This fiend had wrecked130 my material life, through my having been taught that resistance was wrong; that if “thine enemy smite131 thee on one cheek, turn to him also the other.”
Since evolution began—and who can date its commencement?—resistance has been the law governing the survival of the fittest; can that natural law be wrong? The fact that the possessor of the greater power of resistance survives is practical demonstration133 of its justice and right. I had in the past weakly let go of home and happiness; now a rage assailed me as fierce as a devastating134 forest fire; I cried out as I leaped from the bed, “I will not succumb135!” I rushed madly at the detested semblance77; the hateful leer appeared to grow more diabolical136, the poise137 of the head more insolent138, as it evaded139 me. There came a blast which tore at the shutters, and dashed the old mirror with a crash to 165the floor; at that instant the specter dashed wildly toward me, swung dizzily around, and it seemed to my excited imagination that the features assumed an appalled140 look; a crash at the rear end of the room caused me to turn my head, a thousand misplaced stars seemed scattered141 over the floor, scintillating142 in the gloom.
I turned again to renew my warfare—but the specter was nowhere to be seen. I stood bewildered awaiting its return; but it came no more, and with a shiver—half of fright, half of cold—I closed the window and crept into bed; as I pulled the blankets about me, and snuggled down into the pillows, I felt a comforting sense of having defeated my adversary143; from that beatific144 state I fell to musing145 upon the many contradictory146 teachings of this life, and idly wondering which was right, or if all were in error, and thus I drifted into slumber147.
Grandma Yoeman was in a state of terrible excitement the next morning over the devastation148 of the storm.
“To think, I’ve had that looking-glass ever since I was married! I do hope it won’t bring you any bad luck, Miss Eda!” said she plaintively149.
“Oh, nonsense, grandma! From this hour my better health and my happiness are assured,” I replied gayly. I had such perfect confidence that I should no more be troubled by the uncanny vision that it made me very happy.
As I was lazily putting on my clothing, grandma’s lamentations broke out afresh: “There’s 166that picture that my niece Mandy painted, broke all to bits!”
“I wonder that I never saw the picture,” said I, more to comfort grandma by an interest in her misfortune than for any other reason.
“Oh, I covered it up to keep the dust from it; it was real purty, jest shone at night like anything,” she concluded regretfully.
From that time on, I danced about the old house, and dreamed under the gnarled apple trees, or among the sweet-scented clover, as happy as it is possible to be—except for one longing150 pain.
I seemed to see that I might, and ought to be, uplifted, exalted151 above all evil; thus gaining the right from that elevation152 of purity, to pity and forgive the soul so warped153 as to prefer evil to good. I now understood that it was like crossing a bridge spanning a foul154 stream; one might shudder155 at the offensive sight, but no soil or attaint could touch even the outer garments. I let the sweet air of heaven blow all my bitterness away; the birds and flowers spoke156 only of love and harmony, and their sweet language taught me that I too had sinned, although I had transgressed157 simply because I did not understand that I need neither fraternize nor hold aloof158, but walk my way in peace and quietude; inasmuch as it lies not in the power of any person to wound my feelings, or to injure me beyond the material; that within me, only, lies the weakness which makes that possible.
As I sat watching the great, lumbering159 bumble-bees crawl in and out of the hollyhocks, 167thinking what fortunate fellows they were, to taste only the sweets of life, there came a quiet step behind me, and a hand was laid upon my shoulder which thrilled me from head to foot; I essayed to rise, but my traitor160 limbs refused their support; the well-remembered voice sounded afar off, but—oh, so sweet!
“I have come to ask your forgiveness, and to acknowledge my wrong; little woman, will you be merciful?”
I cried out sharply: “But how can I trust you? You promised before, and deceived me so bitterly!” the pent-up agony vibrating through my voice.
Very gently he answered me: “I acknowledge that I did; but give me one more trial—a chance to prove my better self to you—you shall never regret it. Oh, Eda! Look at this tree upon which you are sitting; through some mishap161 it grew warped and unsightly; but see! it has changed its course, and is growing steadily162 upward, bearing an abundance of wholesome163 fruit. Can’t you believe that I, too, will mend my course, and that the fruit of my future life will be good?”
The earnest, thrilling voice was as sweetest music to my ear; my heart was so hungry, but—a memory—“But, oh, that woman!” I cried.
“My wife, let us never again mention her! At last I see——”
Manlike, he wished no mention made of his wrongdoing—that he put it behind him he considered sufficient. A sharp pain went through my heart, that all my agony was to be put aside 168so lightly; but—he was my husband. I sat a moment irresolute164, then placed my hands in his, and replied, “As you wish; but let there be no looking backward, let us both live aright each day, and we shall not fail of being happy.”
I made instant resolve to put those higher and better thoughts into practical use, and I have never had cause to regret so doing. Neither the ghost of my enemy, nor the wraith165 of a regret have since visited me.
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1
insufficient
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| adj.(for，of)不足的，不够的 | |
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transgressing
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| v.超越( transgress的现在分词 )；越过；违反；违背 | |
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exhausted
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| adj.极其疲惫的，精疲力尽的 | |
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gust
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| n.阵风，突然一阵（雨、烟等），（感情的）迸发 | |
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limpid
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| adj.清澈的，透明的 | |
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dense
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| a.密集的，稠密的，浓密的；密度大的 | |
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touching
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| adj.动人的，使人感伤的 | |
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glossy
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| adj.平滑的；有光泽的 | |
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scarlet
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| n.深红色，绯红色，红衣；adj.绯红色的 | |
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quaint
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| adj.古雅的，离奇有趣的，奇怪的 | |
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quaintest
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| adj.古色古香的( quaint的最高级 )；少见的，古怪的 | |
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pointed
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| adj.尖的，直截了当的 | |
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pane
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| n.窗格玻璃，长方块 | |
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dawdled
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| v.混（时间）( dawdle的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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flickering
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| adj.闪烁的，摇曳的，一闪一闪的 | |
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inquisitiveness
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| 好奇，求知欲 | |
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dismal
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| adj.阴沉的，凄凉的，令人忧郁的，差劲的 | |
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kerosene
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| n.(kerosine)煤油，火油 | |
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moths
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| n.蛾( moth的名词复数 ) | |
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singed
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| v.浅表烧焦( singe的过去式和过去分词 )；（毛发）燎，烧焦尖端[边儿] | |
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growl
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| v.（狗等）嗥叫，（炮等）轰鸣；n.嗥叫，轰鸣 | |
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growling
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| n.吠声, 咆哮声 v.怒吠, 咆哮, 吼 | |
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depressed
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| adj.沮丧的，抑郁的，不景气的，萧条的 | |
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unbearable
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| adj.不能容忍的；忍受不住的 | |
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suffocating
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lurking
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| 潜在 | |
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crouch
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| v.蹲伏，蜷缩，低头弯腰；n.蹲伏 | |
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crouched
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| v.屈膝，蹲伏( crouch的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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thoroughly
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| adv.完全地，彻底地，十足地 | |
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gathering
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| n.集会，聚会，聚集 | |
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nervously
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| adv.神情激动地，不安地 | |
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elusive
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| adj.难以表达(捉摸)的；令人困惑的；逃避的 | |
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tantalizing
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| 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 ) | |
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incompetent
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| adj.无能力的，不能胜任的 | |
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docile
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| adj.驯服的，易控制的，容易教的 | |
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exasperating
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| adj. 激怒的 动词exasperate的现在分词形式 | |
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fatigued
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| adj. 疲乏的 | |
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momentary
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| adj.片刻的，瞬息的；短暂的 | |
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inferno
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| n.火海；地狱般的场所 | |
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growled
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| v.（动物）发狺狺声， （雷）作隆隆声( growl的过去式和过去分词 )；低声咆哮着说 | |
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discomfited
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| v.使为难( discomfit的过去式和过去分词)；使狼狈；使挫折；挫败 | |
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42
shutters
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| 百叶窗( shutter的名词复数 )； （照相机的）快门 | |
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43
shutter
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| n.百叶窗；(照相机)快门；关闭装置 | |
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44
outright
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| adv.坦率地；彻底地；立即；adj.无疑的；彻底的 | |
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subsided
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| v.（土地）下陷（因在地下采矿）( subside的过去式和过去分词 )；减弱；下降至较低或正常水平；一下子坐在椅子等上 | |
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46
shrilly
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| 尖声的； 光亮的，耀眼的 | |
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47
horrified
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| a.(表现出)恐惧的 | |
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48
constriction
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| 压缩； 紧压的感觉； 束紧； 压缩物 | |
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49
receding
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| v.逐渐远离( recede的现在分词 )；向后倾斜；自原处后退或避开别人的注视；尤指问题 | |
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50
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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51
likeness
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| n.相像，相似（之处） | |
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52
wrath
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| n.愤怒，愤慨，暴怒 | |
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53
pangs
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| 突然的剧痛( pang的名词复数 )； 悲痛 | |
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54
rend
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| vt.把…撕开，割裂；把…揪下来，强行夺取 | |
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55
perspiration
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| n.汗水；出汗 | |
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56
exhaustion
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| n.耗尽枯竭，疲惫，筋疲力尽，竭尽，详尽无遗的论述 | |
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57
stupor
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| v.昏迷；不省人事 | |
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58
countless
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| adj.无数的，多得不计其数的 | |
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59
wafted
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| v.吹送，飘送，（使）浮动( waft的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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60
lark
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| n.云雀，百灵鸟；n.嬉戏，玩笑；vi.嬉戏 | |
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61
awfully
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| adv.可怕地，非常地，极端地 | |
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62
pretense
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| n.矫饰，做作，借口 | |
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63
apprehensively
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| adv.担心地 | |
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64
caressingly
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| 爱抚地，亲切地 | |
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65
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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66
scurried
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| v.急匆匆地走( scurry的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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67
gnawed
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| 咬( gnaw的过去式和过去分词 )； （长时间） 折磨某人； （使）苦恼； （长时间）危害某事物 | |
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68
industriously
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69
creek
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| n.小溪，小河，小湾 | |
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70
retired
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| adj.隐退的，退休的，退役的 | |
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71
commotion
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| n.骚动，动乱 | |
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72
bent
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| n.爱好，癖好；adj.弯的；决心的，一心的 | |
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73
bouquet
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| n.花束，酒香 | |
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74
demurely
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| adv.装成端庄地，认真地 | |
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75
recede
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| vi.退(去)，渐渐远去；向后倾斜，缩进 | |
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76
derisively
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| adv. 嘲笑地，嘲弄地 | |
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77
semblance
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| n.外貌，外表 | |
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78
loathed
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| v.憎恨，厌恶( loathe的过去式和过去分词 )；极不喜欢 | |
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79
hatred
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| n.憎恶，憎恨，仇恨 | |
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80
spine
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| n.脊柱，脊椎；(动植物的)刺；书脊 | |
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81
recipient
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| a.接受的,感受性强的 n.接受者,感受者,容器 | |
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82
recurred
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| 再发生，复发( recur的过去式和过去分词 )； 治愈 | |
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83
sleepless
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| adj.不睡眠的，睡不著的，不休息的 | |
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84
dread
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| vt.担忧，忧虑；惧怕，不敢；n.担忧，畏惧 | |
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85
capabilities
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| n.能力( capability的名词复数 )；可能；容量；[复数]潜在能力 | |
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86
proclivities
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| n.倾向，癖性( proclivity的名词复数 ) | |
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87
fiery
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| adj.燃烧着的，火红的；暴躁的；激烈的 | |
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88
tribulation
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| n.苦难，灾难 | |
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89
torment
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| n.折磨；令人痛苦的东西(人)；vt.折磨；纠缠 | |
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90
wrecking
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| 破坏 | |
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91
tormenting
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| 使痛苦的，使苦恼的 | |
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92
rattled
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| 慌乱的，恼火的 | |
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93
groaned
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| v.呻吟( groan的过去式和过去分词 )；发牢骚；抱怨；受苦 | |
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94
dismally
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| adv.阴暗地，沉闷地 | |
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95
doomed
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| 命定的 | |
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96
demise
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| n.死亡；v.让渡，遗赠，转让 | |
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97
profess
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| v.声称，冒称，以...为业，正式接受入教，表明信仰 | |
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98
thereby
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| adv.因此，从而 | |
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99
inevitable
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| adj.不可避免的，必然发生的 | |
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100
vengeance
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| n.报复，报仇，复仇 | |
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101
providence
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| n.深谋远虑，天道，天意；远见；节约；上帝 | |
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102
condoning
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| v.容忍，宽恕，原谅( condone的现在分词 ) | |
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103
offense
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| n.犯规，违法行为；冒犯，得罪 | |
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104
incessant
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| adj.不停的，连续的 | |
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105
receded
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| v.逐渐远离( recede的过去式和过去分词 )；向后倾斜；自原处后退或避开别人的注视；尤指问题 | |
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106
forth
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| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
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107
repent
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| v.悔悟，悔改，忏悔，后悔 | |
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108
savage
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| adj.野蛮的；凶恶的，残暴的；n.未开化的人 | |
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109
tormented
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| 饱受折磨的 | |
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110
omission
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| n.省略，删节；遗漏或省略的事物，冗长 | |
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111
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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112
detested
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| v.憎恶，嫌恶，痛恨( detest的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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113
solace
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| n.安慰；v.使快乐；vt.安慰(物)，缓和 | |
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114
harassing
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| v.侵扰，骚扰( harass的现在分词 )；不断攻击（敌人） | |
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115
irritably
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| ad.易生气地 | |
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116
lengthened
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| （时间或空间）延长，伸长( lengthen的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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117
petals
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| n.花瓣( petal的名词复数 ) | |
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118
fragrant
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| adj.芬香的，馥郁的，愉快的 | |
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119
boughs
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| 大树枝( bough的名词复数 ) | |
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120
anticipation
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| n.预期，预料，期望 | |
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121
morbid
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| adj.病的；致病的；病态的；可怕的 | |
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122
mattress
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| n.床垫，床褥 | |
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123
drowsily
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| adv.睡地，懒洋洋地，昏昏欲睡地 | |
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124
lighting
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| n.照明，光线的明暗，舞台灯光 | |
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125
vaguely
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| adv.含糊地，暖昧地 | |
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126
darted
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| v.投掷，投射( dart的过去式和过去分词 )；向前冲，飞奔 | |
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127
inertly
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| adv.不活泼地，无生气地 | |
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128
coalition
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| n.结合体，同盟，结合，联合 | |
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129
assailed
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| v.攻击( assail的过去式和过去分词 )；困扰；质问；毅然应对 | |
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130
wrecked
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| adj.失事的，遇难的 | |
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131
smite
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| v.重击；彻底击败；n.打；尝试；一点儿 | |
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132
parody
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| n.打油诗文，诙谐的改编诗文，拙劣的模仿；v.拙劣模仿，作模仿诗文 | |
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133
demonstration
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| n.表明，示范，论证，示威 | |
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134
devastating
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| adj.毁灭性的，令人震惊的，强有力的 | |
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135
succumb
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| v.屈服，屈从；死 | |
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136
diabolical
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| adj.恶魔似的，凶暴的 | |
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137
poise
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| vt./vi. 平衡，保持平衡；n.泰然自若，自信 | |
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138
insolent
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| adj.傲慢的，无理的 | |
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139
evaded
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| 逃避( evade的过去式和过去分词 )； 避开； 回避； 想不出 | |
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140
appalled
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| 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 | |
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141
scattered
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| adj.分散的，稀疏的；散步的；疏疏落落的 | |
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142
scintillating
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| adj．才气横溢的,闪闪发光的; 闪烁的 | |
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143
adversary
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| adj.敌手，对手 | |
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144
beatific
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| adj.快乐的，有福的 | |
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145
musing
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| n. 沉思，冥想 adj. 沉思的, 冥想的 动词muse的现在分词形式 | |
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146
contradictory
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| adj.反驳的，反对的，抗辩的；n.正反对，矛盾对立 | |
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147
slumber
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| n.睡眠，沉睡状态 | |
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148
devastation
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| n.毁坏；荒废；极度震惊或悲伤 | |
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149
plaintively
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| adv.悲哀地，哀怨地 | |
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150
longing
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| n.（for）渴望 | |
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151
exalted
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| adj.(地位等)高的，崇高的；尊贵的，高尚的 | |
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152
elevation
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| n.高度；海拔；高地；上升；提高 | |
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153
warped
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| adj.反常的；乖戾的；（变）弯曲的；变形的v.弄弯，变歪( warp的过去式和过去分词 )；使（行为等）不合情理，使乖戾， | |
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154
foul
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| adj.污秽的；邪恶的；v.弄脏；妨害；犯规；n.犯规 | |
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155
shudder
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| v.战粟，震动，剧烈地摇晃；n.战粟，抖动 | |
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156
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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157
transgressed
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| v.超越( transgress的过去式和过去分词 )；越过；违反；违背 | |
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158
aloof
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| adj.远离的；冷淡的，漠不关心的 | |
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159
lumbering
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| n.采伐林木 | |
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160
traitor
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| n.叛徒，卖国贼 | |
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161
mishap
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| n.不幸的事，不幸；灾祸 | |
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162
steadily
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| adv.稳定地；不变地；持续地 | |
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163
wholesome
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| adj.适合；卫生的；有益健康的；显示身心健康的 | |
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164
irresolute
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| adj.无决断的，优柔寡断的，踌躇不定的 | |
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165
wraith
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| n.幽灵；骨瘦如柴的人 | |
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