Stimulated8 by the change, Judith cleaned house, raked up the yard, and burned the winter accumulation of rubbish, set out her garden and even planted some seed of sweet peas and nasturtiums about the house. The caressing9 spring days filled her with a sense of calmness and passive wellbeing.
She never sang or romped10 any more. She could not rejoice and be glad with these things of nature. But out of her calm torpor11 she looked at them as through a thin mist and they sank upon her spirit like healing on a wound. She grew very fond of sitting on the doorstep.
It was that spring that the United States began to make preparations to send young men to Europe to fight for democracy.
A black wave of fear darkened the sunshine of Scott County when it became known that the United States had entered the war. Gus Dibble's vague apprehensions12 that the trouble might come their way had incredibly been realized. Out of the mouth of a fool the truth had come, and the impossible had happened. The war had crossed the ocean and was among them and was going to take them away from their homes. A few restless and physically13 fit young blades like Ziemer Whitmarsh and Bob Crupper found in the news the glorious promise of adventure. A few hailed it as a hope of deliverance from
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irksome conditions of life. But to most of these simple youths who had never been more than twenty miles away from their own dooryards it brought terror, stark15 and appalling16: terror of the unknown into which they would be dragged from the security of their home cabins and tobacco patches, terror of death and of the unknown after death. In the tired bodies and shrinking minds of these underfed young men there was little to foster a thirst for adventure, still less any feeling of adherence17 to such a middle class luxury as patriotism18. No newspapers nor shouting demagogues came to them with the lies that create and feed an artificial frenzy20. For them there were neither crowds nor music nor public acclaim21: no showy paraphernalia22 to hide the stinking carcass of war; only the naked certainty, faced and pondered upon in solitude23, that inevitably24 that dreaded25 and all-powerful machine known as the law would reach out for them, take them out of their homes, away from the comfort of familiar faces, and place them they knew not where. Knowing nothing of the law and its processes, they feared and respected it beyond all other things. To them it was a god much more real and powerful than the still less known God of the Bible.
It was the most timid among them who developed the boldness of desperation and dared to hide themselves from the recruiting officer. They dropped out of sight, fled away to the hill country. Often they were brought back ignominiously26 and given a year in jail. Sometimes they were never heard of again.
For the most part, the young men shambled mechanically about the barnyard and behind the plow27, trying with indifferent success to cultivate stoicism, afraid of being thought cowards, waiting in cold terror until their time should come.
Fear and hate lay at the hearts of the mothers. And having fewer pretenses28 to keep up than their sons and less respect for vested authority, they gave free voice to their feelings. Mothers whose sons had been caught in the draft said hard and bitter things behind the backs of the more fortunate ones whose offspring had escaped. There was weeping into midnight
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pillows, there was terror and dismay, envy, and hard suspicion.
Elmer, the second oldest Gibbs boy, shot himself in the foot while he was out hunting. Nobody knew why or what he was hunting at that time of year. He was lamed29 for life, so Dr. MacTaggert said; but he didn't have to go.
Marsh14, his elder brother, was all agog19 to get into the fray30. He had been listening to the talk of Bob and Ziemer; and being something of a braggart31 like his father, he had begun to lust32 for military adventures.
One afternoon when he was plowing33 near by, he took refuge in the Blackford kitchen from a heavy thunderstorm. From time to time, as he sat close to the door, he cast a swift glance at Judith who stood by the table ironing a Sunday shirt for Jerry. When she went to the stove to change her iron, he followed her movements with eyes that peered furtively35 from under the brim of his frayed36 straw hat.
"Well, Marsh," she said, "I hear you're a-goin' into the war."
His face brightened.
"You betcha. Me an' Bob an' Ziemer is a-goin' to clean 'em up good."
"An' what you a-goin' to fight for, Marsh?"
"I dun—" He checked the word before it was out of his lips. "What we a-goin' to fight fer? Why, fer our rights, o' course. An' we're a-goin' to lick 'em, too, the hull37 lot of 'em."
"Haow do you mean, the hull lot of 'em? Who all air you a-goin' to lick?"
"Why, all them furriners o' course: the Germans an' the Turks an' the Eyetalians an' the French an' the whole lousy shootin' match."
Among the women a few bright particular spirits like Aunt Eppie, who had no sons of an age to come within the selective draft, burned with righteous zeal38 against the Hun. And as the tigress is more fierce and pitiless than her male companion, so the hatred39 in the hearts of these women burned with a more cruel, intense, and implacable fury than a man's heart is able to sustain. Aunt Eppie, who had gloried in her neutrality
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before the United States went into the war, considering the belligerents40 all equally despicable and trifling41, now could not find enough words of praise for the Allies, nor heap sufficient ignominy on the Germans. When Aunt Eppie spoke42 of the unspeakable Hun and the idolatrous Turk, her cold gray eyes flashed with the steely gleam of a scimiter, her false teeth came together with a fierce click, like a rat trap closing down on an unfortunate lover of cheese, and her imperious, bony knuckles43 rapped the table with a sound as suggestive of finality as the driving of nails into a coffin44.
Jerry's mother, Aunt Mary Blackford, was another who was consumed with the fires of hate. At any mention of the enemy Aunt Mary's personality changed from kittenish to tigerish. It was an uncanny thing to see this small, frail45 woman, so given over to the service of others, so devoted46 to her husband, her sons, and her grandchildren, so kind and friendly toward her neighbors, turn into a spiteful, vicious virago47 at the mere48 mention of people of whom she knew nothing whatever. As the cat's claws are sharp and pitiless, so something hard, cruel, and implacable stretched itself at this crisis out of Aunt Mary's velvet49 exterior50. Her blue eyes, ordinarily mild and childlike, could flash with as cold a gleam as Aunt Eppie's gray ones. Her mouth could shut in lines as hard and pitiless. Her baby-like hands, fluttering in excited anger, seemed to Judith even more savage51 claws than Aunt Eppie's imperiously tapping knuckles. The younger woman felt something akin52 to hate rise in her own breast as she turned coldly away from Aunt Mary's demonstrations53 of righteous indignation.
"I reckon," she said, looking with coolly level eyes at her mother-in-law, "if you'd been born a German you'd be the fust one to hate us Americans same's you're a-hatin' the Germans naow. An' either way there'd be about as much sense to it."
Aunt Mary bridled54 fiercely under Judith's cold gaze.
"Well, I'm thankful I hain't one o' them that's without no nat'ral human feelin's," she spat55 out, then was silent, unable to find words to express her irritation56 and chagrin57. The
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atmosphere was dense58 with the intensity59 of the two women's dislike for each other.
"When times like these comes, they show up folks in their real nater," sniffed60 Aunt Mary, after an angry pause.
"Yes, they do," answered Judith, with cold incisiveness61.
Jerry, the only true devotee of peace, was made miserable62 when his wife and his mother sparred about the war. He shifted uneasily and looked from one to the other with dumbly beseeching63 eyes, like those of a gentle dog.
One morning when she was churning on the porch, Bob Crupper sauntered around the corner of the house.
For some time he hung about, talking of this and that: last night's rain that would bring the tobacco beds along, the new flagpole that they had just set up in the school yard, the big price that the sheep men were going to get for their wool. As he talked, he sat on the edge of the porch and whittled64 aimlessly at a stick or trundled a toy wagon65 up and down the porch floor with his hand.
At last, after a silence broken only by the thump66 of the dasher in the churn, he roused himself and stood up.
"Well, I must be a-goin'. I'm off to-night for the trainin' camp. So I'll say good-by."
She released the dasher and gave him her hand. He took it in his which was large, firm, and warm. His face twitched67 with embarrassment68.
Suddenly she felt his face close to hers and heard his voice in a quick, hoarse69 whisper.
"Judy, mebbe I won't never see you agin. I'm agoin' to hev one kiss anyway afore I go."
She felt herself melting into his arms as he kissed her on the mouth long and passionately70. The next moment he was gone.
Her hands trembled as she took hold of the dasher again. Had she kissed him back or had she not kissed him back, she wondered. For a long time her lips burned from his kiss, as once before her neck and shoulder had burned from his look.
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In June the neighborhood was thrown into a flutter of excitement by the coming of two evangelists. People said that they were from a little sect71 in the hill country. They stopped with Uncle Joe Patton, who was himself a religious man and a total abstainer72, and they were to hold their meetings in Uncle Joe's house. All the neighbors were urged to attend the meetings.
Jerry was again working beyond his strength. He was determined73 to have a big tobacco crop this year. It was whispered that the price of tobacco would go sky high on account of America being in the war. He was becoming grouchy74 from the strain of overwork. Judith, with three babies to care for, could give no help.
"I hain't a-goin' to be drug to none o' their godforsaken meetin's," he said testily75 to Judith, when she mentioned the evangelists. "I'm too damn tired nights to do anything but turn in. But there hain't nothin' to keep you from goin' if you've a mind. I'll be here in the house with the young uns. All I ast is don't wake me up when you come home."
The thought of the evangelists piqued76 Judith's curiosity. Her life was easier now that summer had come; and her peaceful apathy77 was beginning to be stirred by slight tremors78 of returning interest in things. She had never listened to an evangelist since that half forgotten night when she was ten. She decided79 to go.
On the way she called for Hat. She knew that Hat would be going. As she expected Hat was preparing to start and had made elaborate toilet preparations. She had frizzed her hair so that it stood out violently on all sides, and she was wearing a stiffly starched80 pink calico dress. Under the dress Judith glimpsed the red petticoat.
Luke, in his sock feet, stretched luxuriously81 in an old rocker.
"I reckon you two is spilin' fer sumpin to do," he said, giving them a swift disdainful glance, as he spat into the woodbox. "An' if them lousy preachers'd foller the plow a spell or do a little wrastlin' on the end of a shovel82 through the day,
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they wouldn't be so spry about draggin' the wimmin out nights."
"Aw, shet up," returned Hat. "I guess seekin' the Lord nights is jes as good as huntin' foxes anyway. You don't need to hand out no lip."
They walked across fields to the Patton home, each carrying a lantern, for there was no moon. The night was warm and sweet with the smells of summer. Blackberry bushes reached sharp tentacles83 out of the dark and made Hat gather her precious dress more closely about her.
"I wisht the meetin's was held anywheres but at Patton's place," she fretted84. "It's so durn hard to git to, an' when you git there it's so lonesome lookin' it seems like it's hanted. The old folks all says it's hanted. It gives me the chills."
They crossed one creek85 on a plank86 and another on a log. Hat's great bulk teetered uneasily on the log and she thought of her clean dress and white stockings.
"Durn hard place to git to," she muttered.
The light wind was balmy and full of woodsy fragrance87. In one place a whiff from a flowering alfalfa field came to them on the warm air heavy and sweet.
In a corner of a pasture their footsteps startled some sheep invisible in the darkness. A shivery sound of the movement of many soft bodies and then the patter of innumerable small feet told them that the sheep had scampered88 away. A few who had become separated from the main flock bleated89 inquiringly. The others answered: "This way, sisters, this way."
Judith felt strangely stirred and elated. It was an adventure, this coming out into the warm, soft, fragrant90 night. She thrilled to hear the sheep pattering away into the darkness calling to each other.
A rough wagon track down the side of a steep hill covered with brush and stunted91 trees brought them to the clearing about the Patton house. It was a tall old house built of heavy logs that had once been whitewashed92. It rose corpselike in the
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dim light of the stars. Small dark windows piercing the thickness of the logs looked out from the pallid93 walls like eyes.
The house was hemmed94 in on every side. On the north, from which they had approached it, the hill rose abruptly95. East and west the woods crept almost to the doors. On the south was Stony96 Creek, a torrent97 in winter, a wide, half dried up river bed in summer. Wagons98 to get to the place must either come down the steep hill or ford34 the river. The house was shaded by aged99 gray willows100. Of evenings it was swathed in vapors101 from the river bed.
There was a vague story whispered about the place: a story of one of those atrocious murders that occur from time to time in out-of-the-way places, where solitude and the emptiness of life teach the mind to brood. Such morbidly102 brooding minds sometimes flare103 out into sudden, grim passions, craving104 the sacrifice of blood.
Such a story was told about the Patton place. Perhaps it had a basis of fact. Perhaps it was only a myth grown out of the sinister105 appearance of the house and the dark-crannied minds of the tobacco growers. It was old and vague and told with many variations.
"Land alive, but it's a pesky, shivery place," complained Hat. "An' it's damp an' dirty, too. I despise sech a place. I wouldn't live here fer no money."
Light shone from one window of the Patton house, and several low-burning lanterns stood by the door. They added their own to the gleaming cluster and pushed open the door.
Uncle Joe Patton was praying. In the half light cast by a tall, thin glass lamp with a tiny wick, a dozen or so women and perhaps half a dozen men knelt upon the floor before planks106 laid from chair to chair. Two dogs sat at respectful attention and one was curled up under the table. A large black cat slept on the flattened107 patchwork108 cushion of the only rocking chair in the room. The heavy beams of the low ceiling, blackened with smoke and hung with cobwebs, seemed to absorb into their gloom the light of the small lamp.
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Uncle Joe's prayer was long and meandering109, like all his talk. He was a very old man, and like many other old men harped110 constantly upon a certain few things, saying them over and over again, each time as impressively as if they were quite new to the patient listener. He addressed the Lord in like manner. His voice rumbling111 along in the level monotone appropriate to prayer was as drowsy112 as the humming of bees over a clover field. Judith, who had been standing113 at the washtub most of the day, caught herself nodding into sleep as she knelt at the end of one of the planks.
She was roused from one of these dozes114 by Uncle Jabez's dog poking115 his moist nose into her face; and she began to peer about from under her sunbonnet in quest of the two strangers. She found them easily enough; but their heads were so devoutly116 bowed in prayer that there was nothing of them to be seen but backs and shoulders. She saw Hat's eyes traveling in the same direction as her own, and encountered the bored gaze of Uncle Jabez and the twinkling gray eyes of Uncle Sam Whitmarsh, who was taking a look around after having consulted his watch.
She dozed117 a little; and when she roused herself and fell to peeping again she caught an exchange of looks between Abbie Gibbs and Ziemer Whitmarsh.
Aunt Jenny Patton, who suddenly remembered that she had forgotten to put the yeast118 into the rising of bread, rose at this moment and slipped unobtrusively into the back kitchen. The cat in the rocking chair yawned and stretched, then curled again deliciously. Still Uncle Joe droned along. The kneelers stirred more and more uneasily trying to relieve their cramped119 legs and aching knees.
At last, when they had almost lost hope, Uncle Joe droned to an end; and they all stood up with sighs of relief and were led into a hymn120. The two evangelists and Jabez Moorhouse were the only ones who really sang. The others made vague, inarticulate sounds, took breath gaspingly and quavered uneasily into silence. Uncle Joe, in an aged tremolo, tried hard to follow, but was like a dog that has lost the scent121.
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When the harvest is past and the summer is gone,
And summons and prayers shall be o'er;
When the harvest is past and the summer is gone,
And Jesus invites us no more.
The evangelists were both rather good singers, and Jabez had a sonorous122 bass123. The tune124 went wailing125 to the smoky rafters, wistful and melancholy127.
During the hymn Judith and everybody else gazed curiously128 at the evangelists.
They were farmer folk like herself she knew by the sure intuition with which people know their own kind. One was tall and flimsy of body, with a receding129 chin, bulging130 eyes light blue in color, prominent teeth and a large Adam's apple. She seemed to have seen him before or somebody like him. He made her think of a fish. He looked innocent, kindly131, and stupid.
The other was shorter and more compactly built. There was nothing remarkable132 about his face or figure except that he had strange, arresting eyes that seemed to smolder133 with a dark, inward flame. The eyes fascinated her. Again and again she felt her own drawn134 toward them. Twice during the singing she met his gaze and turned away her own abashed135 and in confusion.
When the singing was over, the evangelist with the strange eyes began to preach a sermon, taking as his text the words, "Repent136 ye, for the Kingdom of Heaven is at hand." As soon as he began to speak, she knew that his voice matched his eyes. It was glowing, fiery137, and under the fire rich with tenebrous depth. He talked about sin and the wrath138 to come, the raging fires of eternal damnation and the worm that never dieth. As he talked the smoldering139 glow of his strange eyes burst into flame. The familiar cant140 phrases of revivalist exhortation141 falling glibly142 from his tongue took strength and color from the fire of his dark fanaticism143. In the dim light he seemed to grow larger. A potent144 magnetism145 issued from him and held the listeners spellbound.
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At the end of his discourse146 he swept them into a hymn.
Almost persuaded. Summer is past.
Almost persuaded. Doom147 comes at last.
Almost can not avail.
Sad, sad the bitter wail126.
Almost is but to fail.
Almost—but lost.
The music, lovingly hugging the words, combined with the rankling148 pain of remorse149 and the bitterness of despair the iron clang of inevitable150 doom. Of its kind the hymn was a masterpiece. During the singing the simple tobacco growers and their wives, not used to spiritual stimulation151, looked vaguely152 troubled, flustered153 and ill at ease.
When the hymn was over and the preacher sat down the spell was broken. Virtue154 seemed to have gone out of him. With all his fervor155 he had uttered nothing but strings156 of stock phrases used by every ranter about hell fire. They had heard it all before. When the glow of his personality no longer enfolded them, his listeners were left empty-minded and their thoughts reverted157 instantly to their own affairs, to the kitchen, the barn, and the tobacco field.
Judith did not ponder upon what the preacher had said. For her hell fire had no terrors. Her spirit was of a pagan soundness that shed such tainted158 superstitions159 as a duck's down sheds water. But she could not forget the man's darkly glowing eyes and darkly vibrant160 voice. Through the thick gloom as she walked home she saw the eyes burning before her, heard the voice vibrating through the fragrance of the summer night.
"Ouch!" exclaimed Hat, "if I hain't done gone an' stuck my foot into a mud hole. An' me with white stockin's on, too. Drat the durn lantern, it don't give light enough fer a flea161 to go to bed by."
In the same spot where it had greeted them before came a whiff from a flowering alfalfa field, not clover nor heliotrope162,
[Pg 263]
but a mixture of the intensest sweetness of both, subtle, and disquieting163.
"Say, Judy, don't you think the short feller was good lookin'? An' what was it about his eyes—an' his voice, too? I dunno—sumpin."
All the way home Hat talked about the preacher's good looks, about Luke's slovenliness164, a new dress that she was making, and a sunbonnet pattern that she had made up herself out of her own head. Through her unheeded patter of talk Judith saw the strange eyes looking at her out of the darkness, heard the dark voice vibrating in the fragrance of the summer night.
On the way home Amos Crupper said to Sam Whitmarsh in his deep chest tones:
"Waal, that there was a fine sermon the young feller preached—a strong, powerful sermon. I like to listen to a good sermon an' read the news about the war. It makes a man feel like life hain't all but jes plantin' an' diggin' taters an' hoein' terbaccer."
"Yaas," agreed Uncle Sam, "sech things livens a feller up a bit an' makes him realize this life hain't all. I hearn you was needin' a buggy hoss, Amos. I got the finest little mare165—dark bay—awful purty color—six year old no more, an' I'd—"
"No, Sam, she hain't fer me," Uncle Amos interrupted him smiling genially166. "I knowed that there little mare when Pete Akers had her, an' I know she's twelve if she's a day an' she's had the heaves since she was little more'n a colt. You fix her up with a little dose o' birdshot to cover up them heaves an' take her to Georgetown on Court Day. You'll be able to trade her good an' mebbe put a little piece o' money in yer pocket."
On the way home Jabez Moorhouse, walking somberly alone, thought how his life had been wasted.
"I cud a made a preacher," he said to himself, "or a congressman167 or a jedge or learnt to play the fiddle168 good if I'd on'y had a chanct. But all my life I hain't done nothin' but dig
[Pg 264]
in dirt. An' all the rest o' my life I'm a-goin' to keep right on a-diggin' in dirt."
He spat tobacco juice into the grass and uttered his favorite exclamation169 of disgust. It was a phrase of his own contriving170, a rich verbal arabesque171 of profanity and obscenity cunningly inwrought.
Having thus partly relieved his feelings, he took a long pull from a bottle that he always carried in his pocket.
After several long pulls he felt much better and sang into the night a ballad172 with the oft-recurring refrain:
"You can't have my daughter without the gray mare."
On the way home Ziemer Whitmarsh overtook Abbie Gibbs, who had purposely hung behind the other members of her family, wound his arm about her slim, consumptive waist and drew her aside from the path.
On the way home Joe Barnaby and young Marsh Gibbs hesitated where a road making gang who were widening the pike to Georgetown had left their roller and other tools by the side of the road.
"D'yuh know what I spied Gus Dibble a-doin' the other day?" said Joe in a tone of infinite disgust. "I seen him a-stealin' a log chain out o' these here fixin's. What d'yuh think of a feller'd steal a log chain, hey?"
Joe himself had for many years eked173 out his small means by doing jobs of lumber174 hauling and was hence amply provided with log chains.
"I dunno," mused175 Marsh. "Mebbe he needed the log chain. I know I need a new shovel awful bad, an' they've riz up awful high in price since the war come on. That there long-handled one over there is jes the kind I was a-wantin'."
He looked wistfully at the shovel.
"Oh, well, of course a shovel's diff'rent," Joe hastened to assure him. "If I wanted the shovel I'd take it along 'f I'z you. The dod gasted road comp'ny kin6 buy more. 'Tain't like takin' anythin' off'n a neighbor."
"That's so," agreed Marsh, taking loving hold upon the handle of the shovel.
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"The young uns lost my last pair o' pliers yestiddy," confided176 Joe. "I made the little buggers look everywhere fer 'em, but o' course they didn't find 'em. Hardware's awful high these days. I never knowed hardware to be so high. I reckon I'll jes slip this pair into my pocket, an' nobody'll know where they went to 'cep you an' me, hey, Marsh?"
"Sure," agreed Marsh heartily177, as he shouldered the shovel. "You might's well have 'em as any other night walker. Durn careless of 'em to leave these small things lyin' about anyway. Serve 'em right if they hain't here when they come back."
When Judith crept into bed beside Jerry and closed her eyes inviting178 sleep, she saw the burning eyes of the evangelist looking at her out of the darkness.
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suavely
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benignly
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| adv.仁慈地，亲切地 | |
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locusts
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| n.蝗虫( locust的名词复数 )；贪吃的人；破坏者；槐树 | |
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cluttered
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| v.杂物，零乱的东西零乱vt.( clutter的过去式和过去分词 )；乱糟糟地堆满，把…弄得很乱；（以…） 塞满… | |
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stinking
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| adj.臭的，烂醉的，讨厌的v.散发出恶臭( stink的现在分词 )；发臭味；名声臭；糟透 | |
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kin
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| n.家族，亲属，血缘关系；adj.亲属关系的，同类的 | |
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spacious
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stimulated
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caressing
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| 爱抚的，表现爱情的，亲切的 | |
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romped
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| v.嬉笑玩闹( romp的过去式和过去分词 )；（尤指在赛跑或竞选等中）轻易获胜 | |
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torpor
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apprehensions
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| 疑惧 | |
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physically
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| adj.物质上，体格上，身体上，按自然规律 | |
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marsh
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| n.沼泽，湿地 | |
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stark
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| adj.荒凉的；严酷的；完全的；adv.完全地 | |
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appalling
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adherence
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patriotism
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| n.爱国精神，爱国心，爱国主义 | |
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agog
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frenzy
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acclaim
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paraphernalia
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solitude
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inevitably
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dreaded
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| adj.令人畏惧的；害怕的v.害怕，恐惧，担心( dread的过去式和过去分词) | |
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26
ignominiously
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| adv.耻辱地，屈辱地，丢脸地 | |
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27
plow
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| n.犁，耕地，犁过的地；v.犁，费力地前进[英]plough | |
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28
pretenses
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| n.借口（pretense的复数形式） | |
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29
lamed
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| 希伯莱语第十二个字母 | |
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30
fray
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| v.争吵；打斗；磨损，磨破；n.吵架；打斗 | |
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31
braggart
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| n.吹牛者；adj.吹牛的，自夸的 | |
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32
lust
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| n.性(淫)欲；渴(欲)望；vi.对…有强烈的欲望 | |
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33
plowing
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| v.耕( plow的现在分词 )；犁耕；费力穿过 | |
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34
Ford
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| n.浅滩，水浅可涉处；v.涉水，涉过 | |
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35
furtively
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| adv. 偷偷地, 暗中地 | |
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36
frayed
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| adj.磨损的v.（使布、绳等）磨损，磨破( fray的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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37
hull
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| n.船身；(果、实等的)外壳；vt.去(谷物等)壳 | |
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38
zeal
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| n.热心，热情，热忱 | |
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39
hatred
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| n.憎恶，憎恨，仇恨 | |
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40
belligerents
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| n.交战的一方（指国家、集团或个人）( belligerent的名词复数 ) | |
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41
trifling
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| adj.微不足道的；没什么价值的 | |
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42
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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43
knuckles
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| n.（指人）指关节( knuckle的名词复数 )；（指动物）膝关节，踝v.（指人）指关节( knuckle的第三人称单数 )；（指动物）膝关节，踝 | |
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44
coffin
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| n.棺材，灵柩 | |
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45
frail
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| adj.身体虚弱的；易损坏的 | |
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46
devoted
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| adj.忠诚的，忠实的，热心的，献身于...的 | |
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47
virago
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| n.悍妇 | |
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48
mere
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| adj.纯粹的；仅仅，只不过 | |
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49
velvet
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| n.丝绒，天鹅绒；adj.丝绒制的，柔软的 | |
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50
exterior
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| adj.外部的，外在的；表面的 | |
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51
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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52
akin
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| adj.同族的，类似的 | |
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53
demonstrations
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| 证明( demonstration的名词复数 )； 表明； 表达； 游行示威 | |
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54
bridled
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| 给…套龙头( bridle的过去式和过去分词 )； 控制； 昂首表示轻蔑（或怨忿等）； 动怒，生气 | |
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55
spat
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| n.口角，掌击；v.发出呼噜呼噜声 | |
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56
irritation
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| n.激怒，恼怒，生气 | |
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57
chagrin
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|
| n.懊恼；气愤；委屈 | |
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58
dense
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| a.密集的，稠密的，浓密的；密度大的 | |
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59
intensity
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| n.强烈，剧烈；强度；烈度 | |
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60
sniffed
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| v.以鼻吸气，嗅，闻( sniff的过去式和过去分词 )；抽鼻子（尤指哭泣、患感冒等时出声地用鼻子吸气）；抱怨，不以为然地说 | |
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61
incisiveness
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| n.敏锐，深刻 | |
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62
miserable
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| adj.悲惨的，痛苦的；可怜的，糟糕的 | |
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63
beseeching
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| adj.恳求似的v.恳求，乞求（某事物）( beseech的现在分词 ) | |
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64
whittled
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| v.切，削（木头），使逐渐变小( whittle的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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65
wagon
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| n.四轮马车，手推车，面包车；无盖运货列车 | |
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66
thump
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| v.重击，砰然地响；n.重击，重击声 | |
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67
twitched
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| vt.& vi.（使）抽动，（使）颤动（twitch的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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68
embarrassment
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| n.尴尬；使人为难的人(事物)；障碍；窘迫 | |
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69
hoarse
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| adj.嘶哑的，沙哑的 | |
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70
passionately
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| ad.热烈地，激烈地 | |
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71
sect
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| n.派别，宗教，学派，派系 | |
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72
abstainer
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| 节制者，戒酒者，弃权者 | |
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73
determined
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| adj.坚定的；有决心的 | |
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74
grouchy
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| adj.好抱怨的；愠怒的 | |
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75
testily
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| adv. 易怒地, 暴躁地 | |
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76
piqued
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| v.伤害…的自尊心( pique的过去式和过去分词 )；激起（好奇心） | |
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77
apathy
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| n.漠不关心，无动于衷；冷淡 | |
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78
tremors
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| 震颤( tremor的名词复数 )； 战栗； 震颤声； 大地的轻微震动 | |
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79
decided
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| adj.决定了的，坚决的；明显的，明确的 | |
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80
starched
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| adj.浆硬的，硬挺的，拘泥刻板的v.把（衣服、床单等）浆一浆( starch的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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81
luxuriously
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| adv.奢侈地，豪华地 | |
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82
shovel
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| n.铁锨，铲子，一铲之量；v.铲，铲出 | |
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83
tentacles
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| n.触手( tentacle的名词复数 )；触角；触须；触毛 | |
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84
fretted
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| 焦躁的，附有弦马的，腐蚀的 | |
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85
creek
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| n.小溪，小河，小湾 | |
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86
plank
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| n.板条，木板，政策要点，政纲条目 | |
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87
fragrance
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| n.芬芳，香味，香气 | |
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88
scampered
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| v.蹦蹦跳跳地跑，惊惶奔跑( scamper的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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89
bleated
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| v.（羊，小牛）叫( bleat的过去式和过去分词 )；哭诉；发出羊叫似的声音；轻声诉说 | |
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90
fragrant
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|
| adj.芬香的，馥郁的，愉快的 | |
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91
stunted
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| adj.矮小的；发育迟缓的 | |
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92
whitewashed
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| 粉饰，美化，掩饰( whitewash的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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93
pallid
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|
| adj.苍白的，呆板的 | |
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94
hemmed
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| 缝…的褶边( hem的过去式和过去分词 )； 包围 | |
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95
abruptly
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| adv.突然地，出其不意地 | |
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96
stony
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| adj.石头的，多石头的，冷酷的，无情的 | |
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97
torrent
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| n.激流，洪流；爆发，(话语等的)连发 | |
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98
wagons
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| n.四轮的运货马车( wagon的名词复数 )；铁路货车；小手推车 | |
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99
aged
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| adj.年老的，陈年的 | |
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100
willows
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| n.柳树( willow的名词复数 )；柳木 | |
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101
vapors
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| n.水汽，水蒸气，无实质之物( vapor的名词复数 )；自夸者；幻想 [药]吸入剂 [古]忧郁（症）v.自夸，（使）蒸发( vapor的第三人称单数 ) | |
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102
morbidly
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| adv.病态地 | |
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103
flare
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| v.闪耀，闪烁；n.潮红；突发 | |
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104
craving
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| n.渴望,热望 | |
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105
sinister
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| adj.不吉利的，凶恶的，左边的 | |
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106
planks
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| （厚）木板( plank的名词复数 )； 政纲条目，政策要点 | |
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107
flattened
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| [医]（水）平扁的，弄平的 | |
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108
patchwork
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| n.混杂物；拼缝物 | |
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109
meandering
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| 蜿蜒的河流，漫步，聊天 | |
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110
harped
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| vi.弹竖琴（harp的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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111
rumbling
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| n. 隆隆声, 辘辘声 adj. 隆隆响的 动词rumble的现在分词 | |
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112
drowsy
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| adj.昏昏欲睡的，令人发困的 | |
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113
standing
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| n.持续，地位；adj.永久的，不动的，直立的，不流动的 | |
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114
dozes
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| n.打盹儿，打瞌睡( doze的名词复数 )v.打盹儿，打瞌睡( doze的第三人称单数 ) | |
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115
poking
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| n. 刺，戳，袋 vt. 拨开，刺，戳 vi. 戳，刺，捅，搜索，伸出，行动散慢 | |
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116
devoutly
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| adv.虔诚地，虔敬地，衷心地 | |
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117
dozed
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| v.打盹儿，打瞌睡( doze的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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118
yeast
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| n.酵母；酵母片；泡沫；v.发酵；起泡沫 | |
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119
cramped
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| a.狭窄的 | |
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120
hymn
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| n.赞美诗，圣歌，颂歌 | |
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121
scent
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| n.气味，香味，香水，线索，嗅觉；v.嗅，发觉 | |
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122
sonorous
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| adj.响亮的，回响的；adv.圆润低沉地；感人地；n.感人，堂皇 | |
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123
bass
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| n.男低音(歌手)；低音乐器；低音大提琴 | |
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124
tune
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| n.调子；和谐，协调；v.调音，调节，调整 | |
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125
wailing
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| v.哭叫，哀号( wail的现在分词 )；沱 | |
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126
wail
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| vt./vi.大声哀号，恸哭；呼啸，尖啸 | |
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127
melancholy
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| n.忧郁，愁思；adj.令人感伤（沮丧）的，忧郁的 | |
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128
curiously
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| adv.有求知欲地；好问地；奇特地 | |
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129
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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130
bulging
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| 膨胀； 凸出（部）； 打气； 折皱 | |
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131
kindly
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| adj.和蔼的，温和的，爽快的；adv.温和地，亲切地 | |
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132
remarkable
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| adj.显著的，异常的，非凡的，值得注意的 | |
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133
smolder
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| v.无火焰地闷烧；n.焖烧，文火 | |
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134
drawn
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| v.拖，拉，拔出；adj.憔悴的，紧张的 | |
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135
abashed
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| adj.窘迫的，尴尬的v.使羞愧，使局促，使窘迫( abash的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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136
repent
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| v.悔悟，悔改，忏悔，后悔 | |
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137
fiery
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| adj.燃烧着的，火红的；暴躁的；激烈的 | |
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138
wrath
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| n.愤怒，愤慨，暴怒 | |
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139
smoldering
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| v.用文火焖烧，熏烧，慢燃( smolder的现在分词 ) | |
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140
cant
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| n.斜穿，黑话，猛扔 | |
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141
exhortation
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| n.劝告，规劝 | |
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142
glibly
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| adv.流利地，流畅地；满口 | |
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143
fanaticism
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| n.狂热，盲信 | |
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144
potent
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| adj.强有力的，有权势的；有效力的 | |
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145
magnetism
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| n.磁性，吸引力，磁学 | |
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146
discourse
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| n.论文，演说；谈话；话语；vi.讲述，著述 | |
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147
doom
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| n.厄运，劫数；v.注定，命定 | |
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148
rankling
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| v.（使）痛苦不已，（使）怨恨不已( rankle的现在分词 ) | |
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149
remorse
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| n.痛恨，悔恨，自责 | |
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150
inevitable
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| adj.不可避免的，必然发生的 | |
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151
stimulation
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| n.刺激，激励，鼓舞 | |
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152
vaguely
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| adv.含糊地，暖昧地 | |
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153
flustered
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| adj.慌张的；激动不安的v.使慌乱，使不安( fluster的过去式和过去分词) | |
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154
virtue
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| n.德行，美德；贞操；优点；功效，效力 | |
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155
fervor
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| n.热诚；热心；炽热 | |
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156
strings
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| n.弦 | |
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157
reverted
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| 恢复( revert的过去式和过去分词 )； 重提； 回到…上； 归还 | |
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158
tainted
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| adj.腐坏的；污染的；沾污的；感染的v.使变质( taint的过去式和过去分词 )；使污染；败坏；被污染，腐坏，败坏 | |
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159
superstitions
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| 迷信，迷信行为( superstition的名词复数 ) | |
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160
vibrant
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| adj.震颤的，响亮的，充满活力的，精力充沛的，(色彩)鲜明的 | |
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161
flea
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| n.跳蚤 | |
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162
heliotrope
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| n.天芥菜；淡紫色 | |
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163
disquieting
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| adj.令人不安的，令人不平静的v.使不安，使忧虑，使烦恼( disquiet的现在分词 ) | |
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164
slovenliness
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165
mare
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| n.母马，母驴 | |
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166
genially
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| adv.亲切地，和蔼地；快活地 | |
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167
Congressman
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| n.（美）国会议员 | |
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168
fiddle
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| n.小提琴；vi.拉提琴；不停拨弄，乱动 | |
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169
exclamation
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| n.感叹号，惊呼，惊叹词 | |
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170
contriving
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| （不顾困难地）促成某事( contrive的现在分词 )； 巧妙地策划，精巧地制造（如机器）； 设法做到 | |
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171
arabesque
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| n.阿拉伯式花饰；adj.阿拉伯式图案的 | |
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172
ballad
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| n.歌谣，民谣，流行爱情歌曲 | |
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173
eked
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| v.（靠节省用量）使…的供应持久( eke的过去式和过去分词 )；节约使用；竭力维持生计；勉强度日 | |
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174
lumber
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| n.木材，木料；v.以破旧东西堆满；伐木；笨重移动 | |
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175
mused
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| v.沉思，冥想( muse的过去式和过去分词 )；沉思自语说（某事） | |
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176
confided
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| v.吐露（秘密，心事等）( confide的过去式和过去分词 )；（向某人）吐露（隐私、秘密等） | |
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177
heartily
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| adv.衷心地，诚恳地，十分，很 | |
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178
inviting
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| adj.诱人的，引人注目的 | |
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