I was the man beneath; Tamkin was on MY back, and I thought I was on his. He made me carry him, too, besides Margaret. Like this they ride on me with hoofs1 and claws. Tear me to pieces, stamp on me and break my bones.
Once more the hoary2 old fiddler pointed3 his bow at Wilhelm as he hurried by. Wilhelm rejected his begging and denied the omen4. He dodged5 heavily through traffic and with his quick, small steps ran up the lower stairway of the Gloriana Hotel with its dark-tinted mirrors, kind to people's defects. From the lobby he phoned Tamkin's room, and when no one answered he took the elevator up. A rouged6 woman in her fifties with a mink7 stole led three tiny dogs on a leash8, high-strung creatures with prominent black eyes, like dwarf9 deer, and legs like twigs10. This was the eccentric Estonian lady who had been moved with her pets to the twelfth floor.
She identified Wilhelm. “You are Doctor Adler's son,” she said.
Formally, he nodded.
“I am a dear friend of your father.”
He stood in the comer and would not meet her glance, and she thought he was snubbing her and made a mental note to speak of it to the doctor.
The linen-wagon stood at Tamkin's door, and the chambermaid's key with its big brass11 tongue was in the lock.
Has Doctor Tamkin been here?” he asked her.
“No, I haven't seen him.”
Wilhelm came in, however, to look around. He examined the photos on the desk, trying to connect the faces with the strange people in Tamkin's stories. Big, heavy volumes were stacked under the double-pronged TV aerial. Science and Sanity12, he read, and there were several books of poetry. The Wall Street Journal hung in separate sheets from the bed-table under the weight of the silver water jug13. A bathrobe with lightening streaks15 of red and white was laid across the foot of the bed with a pair of expensive batik pajamas16. It was a box of a room, but from the windows you saw the river as far uptown as the bridge, as far downtown as Hoboken. What lay between was deep, azure17, dirty, complex, crystal, rusty18, with the red bones of new apartments rising on the bluffs19 of New Jersey20, and huge liners in their berths21, the tugs22 with matted beards of cordage. Even the brackish23 tidal river smell rose this high, like the smell of mop water., From every side he heard pianos, and the voices of men and women singing scales and opera, all mixed, and the sounds of pigeons on the ledges24.
Again Wilhelm took the phone. “Can you locate Doctor Tamkin in the lobby for me?” he asked. And when the operator reported that she could not, Wilhelm gave the number of his father's room, but Dr. Adler was not in either. “Well, please give me the masseur. I say the massage25 room. Don't you understand me? The men's health club. Yes, Max Schilper's–how am I supposed to know the name of it?”
There a strange voice said, “Toktor Adler?” It was the old Czech prizefighter with the deformed26 nose and ears who was attendant down there and gave out soap, sheets, and sandals. He went away. A hollow endless silence followed. Wilhelm flickered27 the receiver with his nails, whistled into it, but could not summon either the attendant or the operator.
The maid saw him examining the bottles of pills on Tamkin's table and seemed suspicious of him. He was running low on Phenaphen pills and was looking for something else. But he swallowed one of his own tablets and, went out and rang again for the elevator. He went down to the health club. Through the steamy windows, when he emerged, he saw the reflection of the swimming pool swirling28 green at the bottom of the lowest stairway. He went through the locker-room curtains. Two men wrapped in towels were playing Ping-pong. They were awkward and the ball bounded high. The Negro in the toilet was shining shoes. He did not know Dr. Adler by name, and Wilhelm descended29 to the massage room. On the tables naked men were lying. It was not a brightly lighted place, and it was very hot, and under the white faint moons of the ceiling shone pale skins. Calendar pictures of pretty girls dressed in tiny fringes were pinned on the wall. On the first table, eyes deeply shut in heavy silent luxury lay a man with a full square beard and short legs, stocky and black-haired. He might have been an orthodox Russian. Wrapped in a sheet, waiting, the man beside him was newly shaved and red from the steambath. He had a big happy face and was dreaming. And after him was an athlete, strikingly muscled, powerful and young, with a strong white curve to his genital and a half-angry smile on his mouth. Dr. Adler was on the fourth table, and Wilhelm stood over his father's pale, slight body. His ribs30 were narrow and small, his belly31 round, white, and high. it had its own being, like something separate. His thighs32 were weak, the muscles of his arms had fallen, his throat was creased33.
The masseur in his undershirt bent34 and whispered in his ear, “It’s your son,” and Dr. Adler opened his eyes into Wilhelm’s face. At once he saw the trouble it, and by an instantaneous reflex he removed himself from the danger of contagion35, and he said serenely36, “Well, have you taken my advice, Wilky?”
“Oh, Dad,” said Wilhelm.
“To take a swim and get a massage?”
“Did you get my note?” said Wilhelm.
“Yes, but I'm afraid you'll have to ask somebody else, because I can't. I had no idea you were so low on funds. How did you let it happen? Didn't you lay anything aside?”
“Oh, please, Dad,” said Wilhelm, almost bringing his hands together in a clasp.
“I'm sorry,” said the doctor. “I really am. But I have set up a rule. I've thought about it, I believe it is a good rule, and I don't want to change it. You haven’t acted wisely. What's the matter?”
“Everything. Just everything. What isn't? I did have a little, but I haven't been very smart.”
'You took some gamble? You lost it? Was it Tamkin? I told you, Wilky, not to build on that Tamkin. Did you? I suspect—”
“Yes, Dad, I'm afraid I trusted him.”
Dr. Adler surrendered his arm to the masseur, who was using wintergreen oil.
“Trusted! And got taken?”
“I'm afraid I kind of–” Wilhelm glanced at the masseur but he was absorbed in his work. He probably did not listen to conversations. “I did. I might as well say it. I should have listened to you.”
“Well, I won't remind you how often I warned you. It must be very painful.”
“Yes, Father, it is.”
“I don't know how many times you have to be burned in order to learn something. The same mistakes, over and over.”
“'I couldn't agree with you more,” said Wilhelm with a face of despair.. “You're so right, Father. It's the same mistakes, and I get burned again and again. I can't seem to–I'm stupid, Dad, I just can't breathe. My chest is all up–I feel choked. I just simply can't catch my breath ' “
He stared at his father's nakedness. Presently he became aware that Dr. Adler was making an effort to keep his temper. He was on the verge37 of an explosion. Wilhelm hung his face and said, “Nobody likes bad luck, eh Dad?”
“So! It's bad luck, now. A minute ago it was stupidity.”
“It is stupidity–it's some of both. It's true that I can't learn. But I–”
“I don't want to listen to the details,” said his father. “And I want you to understand that I'm too old to take on new burdens. I'm just too old to do it. And people who will just wait for help–must wait for help. They have got to stop waiting.”
“It isn't all a question of money–there are other things a father can give to a son.” He lifted up his gray eyes and his nostrils38 grew wide with a look of suffering appeal that stirred his father even more deeply against him.
He warningly said to him, “Look out, Wilky, you're tiring my patience very much.”
“I try not to. But one word from you, just a word, would go a long way. I've never asked you for very much. But you are not a kind man, Father. You don't give the little bit I beg you for.”
He recognized that his father was now furiously angry. Dr. Adler started to say something, and then raised himself and gathered the sheet over him as he did so. His mouth opened, wide, dark, twisted, and he said to Wilhelm, “You want to make yourself into my cross. But I am not going to pick up a cross. I'll see you dead, Wilky, by Christ, before I let you do that to me.”
“Father, listen! Listen!”
“Go away from me now. It’s torture for me to look at you, you slob!” cried Dr. Adler.
Wilhelm's blood rose up madly, in anger equal to his father's, but then it sank down and left him helplessly captive to misery39. He said stiffly, and with a strange sort of formality, “Okay, Dad. That'll be enough. That's about all we should say.” And he stalked out heavily by the door adjacent to the swimming pool and the steam room, and labored41 up two long flights from the basement. Once more he took the elevator to the lobby on the mezzanine. He inquired at the desk for Dr. Tamkin.
The clerk said, “No, I haven't seen him. But I think there's something in the box for you.”
“Me? Give it here,” said Wilhelm and opened a telephone message from his wife. It read, “Please phone Mrs. Wilhelm on return. Urgent.”
Whenever he received an urgent message from his wife he was always thrown into a great fear for the children' He ran to the phone booth, spilled out the change from his pockets onto the little curved steel shelf under the telephone, and dialed the Digby number.
“Yes?” said his wife. Scissors barked in the parlor42.
“Margaret?”
“Yes, hello.” They never exchanged any other greeting. She instantly knew his voice.
“The boys all right?”
“They're out on their bicycles. Why shouldn't they be all right? Scissors, quiet!”
“Your message scared me,” he said. “I wish you wouldn't make 'urgent' so common.”
“I had something to tell you.”
Her familiar unbending voice awakened43 in him a kind of hungry longing44, not for Margaret but for the peace he had once known.
“You sent me a postdated check,” she said. “I can allow that. It's already five days past the first. You dated your check for the twelfth.”
“Well, I have no money. I haven't got it. You can't send me to prison for that. I'll be lucky if I can raise it by the twelfth.”
She answered, “You better get it, Tommy.”
“Yes? What for?” he said. “Tell me. For the sake of what? To tell lies about me to everyone? You–”
She cut him off. “You know what for. I've got the boys to bring up.”
Wilhelm in the narrow booth broke into a heavy sweat. He dropped his head and shrugged45 while with his fingers, he arranged nickels, dimes46, and quarters in rows. “I'm doing my best,” he said. “I've had some bad luck. As a matter of fact, it's been so bad that I don't know where. I am. I couldn't tell you what day of the week this is. I can’t think straight. I'd better not even try. This has been one of those days, Margaret. May I never live to go through another like it. I mean that with all my heart. So I'm not going to try to do any thinking today. Tomorrow I'm going to see some guys. One is a sales manager. The other is in television. But not to act,” he hastily added. “On the business end.”
“That's just some more of your talk, Tommy,” she said. “You ought to patch things up with Rojax Corporation. They'd take you back. You've got to stop thinking like a youngster.”
“What do you mean?”
“Well,” she said, measured and unbending, remorselessly unbending, “you still think like a youngster. But you can't do that any more. Every other day you want to make a new start. But in eighteen years you'll be eligible47 for retirement48. Nobody wants to hire a new man of your age.”
“I know. But listen, you don't have to sound so hard I can't get on my knees to them. And really you don’t have to sound so hard. I haven't done you so harm.”
“Tommy, I have to chase you and ask you for money that you owe us, and I hate it.”
She hated also to be told that her voice was hard.
“I’m making an effort to control myself,” she told him.
He could picture her, her graying bangs cut with strict fixity above her pretty, decisive face. She prided herself on being fair-minded. We could not bear, he thou to know what we do. Even though blood is spilled. though the breath of life is taken from someone's nostrils. This is the way of the weak; quiet and fair. And then smash! They smash!
“Rojax take me back? I'd have to crawl back. They don't need me. After so many years I should have got stock in the firm. How can I support the three of you, and live myself, on half the territory? And why I even try when you won't lift a finger to help? I sent you back to school, didn't I? At that time you said–”
His voice was rising. She did not like that and intercepted49 him. “You misunderstood me,” she said.
“You must realize you're killing50 me. You can't be as blind as all that. Thou shalt not kill! Don't you remember that?”
She said, “You're just raving51 now. When you calm down it'll be different. I have great confidence in your earning ability.”
“Margaret, you don't grasp the situation. You'll have to get a job.
“Absolutely not. I'm not going to have two young children running loose.”
“They're not babies,” Wilhelm said. “Tommy is fourteen. Paulie is going to be ten.”
“Look,” Margaret said in her deliberate manner. “We can't continue this conversation if you're going to yell so, Tommy. They're at a dangerous age. There are teen-aged gangs–the parents working, or the families broken up.”
Once again she was reminding him that it was he who had left her. She had the bringing up of the children as her burden, while he must expect to pay the price of his freedom.
Freedom! he thought with consuming bitterness. Ashes in his mouth, not freedom. Give me my children. For they are mine too.
Can you be the woman I lived with? he started to say. Have you forgotten that we slept so long together? Must you now deal with me like this, and have no mercy?
He would be better off with Margaret again than he was today. This was what she wanted to make him feel, and she drove it home. “Are you in misery?” she was saying. “But you have deserved it.” And he could not return to her any more than he could beg Rojax to him back. If it cost him his life, he could not. Margaret had ruined him with Olive. She hit him and hit him, beat him, battered52 him, wanted to beat the very life out of him.
“Margaret, I want you please to reconsider about work. You have that degree now. Why did I pay your tuition?”
“Because it seemed practical. But it isn't. Growing boys need parental53 authority and a home.”
He begged her, “Margaret, go easy on me. You ought to. I'm at the end of my rope and feel that I'm suffocating54. You don't want to be responsible for a person's destruction. You've got to let up. I feel I'm about to burst.” His face had expanded. He struck a blow upon the tin and wood and nails of the wall of the booth. “You've got to let me breathe. If I should keel over, what then? And it's something I can never understand about you. How you can treat someone like this whom you lived with so long. Who gave you the best of himself. Who tried. Who loved you.” Merely to pronounce the word “love” made him tremble.
“Ah,” she said with a sharp breath. “Now we're coming to it. How did you imagine it was going to be–big shot? Everything made smooth for you? I thought you were leading up to this.”
She had not, perhaps, intended to reply as harshly as she did, but she brooded a great deal and now she could not forbear to punish him and make him feel pains like those she had to undergo.
He struck the wall again, this time with his knuckles55, and he had scarcely enough air in his lungs to speak in a whisper, because his heart pushed upward with a frightful56 pressure. He got up and stamped his feet in the narrow enclosure.
“Haven't I always done my best?” he yelled, though his voice sounded weak and thin to his own ears. “Everything comes from me and nothing back again to me. There's no law that'll punish this, but you are committing a crime against me. Before God–and that's no joke. I mean that. Before God! Sooner or later the boys will know it.”
In a firm tone, levelly, Margaret said to him, “I won't stand to be howled at. When you can speak normally and have something sensible to say I'll listen. But not to this.” She hung up.
Wilhelm tried to tear the apparatus57 from the wall. He ground his teeth and seized the black box with insane digging fingers and made a stifled58 cry and pulled. Then he saw an elderly lady staring through the glass door, utterly59 appalled60 by him, and he ran from the booth, leaving a large amount of change on the shelf. He hurried down the stairs and into the street.
On Broadway it was still bright afternoon and the gassy air was almost motionless under the leaden spokes61 of sunlight. and sawdust footprints lay about the doorways62 of butcher shops and fruit stores. And the great, great crowd, the inexhaustible current of millions of every race and kind pouring out, pressing round, of every age, of every genius, possessors of every human secret, antique and future, in every face the refinement63 of one particular motive64 or essence–I labor40, I spend, I strive, I design, I love, I cling, I uphold, I give way, I envy, I long, scam, I die, I hide, I want. Faster, much faster than any man could make the tally65. The sidewalks were wider than any causeway; the street itself was immense, and it quaked and gleamed and it seemed to Wilhelm to throb14 at the last limit of endurance. And although the sunlight appeared like a broad tissue, its actual weight made him feel like a drunkard.
“I'll get a divorce if it's the last thing I do,” he swore. “As for Dad– As for Dad– I'll have to sell the car for junk and pay the hotel. I'll have to go on my knees to Olive and say, 'Stand by me a while' Don't let her win. Olive!” And he thought, I'll try to start again with Olive. In fact, I must. Olive loves me. Olive—
Beside a row of limousines66 near the curb67 he thought he saw Dr. Tamkin. Of course he had been mistaken before about the hat with the cocoa-colored band and didn't want to make the same mistake mice. But wasn't that Tamkin who was speaking so earnestly, with pointed shoulders, to someone under the canopy68 of the funeral parlor? For this was a huge funeral. He looked for the singular face under the dark gray, fashionable hatbrim. There were two open cars filled with flowers, and a policeman tried to keep a path open to pedestrians69. Right at the canopy-pole, now wasn't that that damned Tamkin talking away with a solemn face, gesticulating with an open hand?
“Tamkin!” shouted Wilhelm, going forward. But he was pushed to the side by a policeman clutching his nightstick at both ends, like a rolling pin. Wilhelm was even farther from Tamkin now, and swore under his breath at the cop who continued to press him back, back, belly and ribs, saying,, “Keep it moving there, please,” his face red with impatient sweat, his brows like red fur. Wilhelm said to him haughtily70, “You shouldn't push people like this.”
The policeman, however, was not really to blame. He had been ordered to keep a way clear. Wilhelm was moved forward by the pressure of the crowd.
He cried, “Tamkin!”
But Tamkin was gone. Or rather, it was he himself who was carried from the street into the chapel71. The pressure ended inside, where it was dark and cool. The flow of fan-driven air dried his face, which he wiped hard with his handkerchief to stop the slight salt itch72. He gave, a sigh when he heard the organ notes that stirred and breathed from the pipes and he saw people in the pews. Men in formal clothes and black Homburgs strode softly back and forth73 on the cork74 floor, up and down the center aisle75. The white of the stained glass was like mother-of-pearl, the blue of the Star of David like velvet76 ribbon.
Well, thought Wilhelm, if that was Tamkin outside I might as well wait for him here where it's cool. Funny, he never mentioned he had a funeral to go to today. But that's just like the guy.
But within a few minutes he had forgotten Tamkin. He stood along the wall with others and looked toward, the coffin77 and the slow line that was moving past it, gazing at the face of the dead. Presently he too was in this, line, and slowly, slowly, foot by foot, the beating of his heart anxious, thick, frightening, but somehow also rich, he neared the coffin and paused for his turn, and gazed down. He caught his breath when he looked at the corpse78, and his face swelled79, his eyes shone hugely with instant tears.
The dead man was gray-haired. He had two large waves of gray hair at the front. But he was not old. face was long, and he had a bony nose, slightly, delicate twisted. His brows were raised as though he had sunk in to the final thought. Now at last he was with it, after the end of all distractions80, and when his flesh was no longer flesh. And by this meditative81 look Wilhelm was so struck that he could not go away. In spite of the tinge82 of horror, and then the splash of heartsickness that he felt, he could not go. He stepped out of line and remained beside the coffin; his eyes filled silently and through his still tears he studied the man as the line of visitors moved with veiled looks past the satin coffin toward the standing83 bank of lilies, lilacs, roses. With great stifling84 sorrow, almost admiration85, Wilhelm nodded and nodded. On the surface, the dead man with his formal shirt and his tie and silk lapels and his powdered skin looked so proper; only a little beneath so–black, Wilhelm thought, so fallen in the eyes.
Standing a little apart, Wilhelm began to cry. He cried at first softly and from sentiment, but soon from deeper feeling. He sobbed86 loudly and his face grew distorted and hot, and the tears stung his skin. A man—another human creature, was what first went through his thoughts, but other and different things were torn from him. “What'll I do? I'm stripped and kicked out. . . . Oh, Father, what do I ask of you? What'll I do about the kids —Tommy, Paul? My children. And Olive? My dear! Why, why, why—you must protect me against that devil who wants my life. If you want it, then kill me. Take, take it, take it from me.
Soon he was past words, past reason, coherence87. He could not stop. The source of all tears had suddenly sprung open within him, black, deep, and hot and they were pouring out and convulsed his body, bending his stubborn head, bowing his shoulders, twisting his face, crippling the very hands with which he held the handkerchief. His efforts to collect himself were useless. The great knot of ill and grief in his throat swelled upward and he gave in utterly and held his face and wept. He cried with all his heart.
He, alone of all the people in the chapel, was sobbing88. No one knew who he was.
One woman said, “Is that perhaps the cousin from New Orleans they were expecting?”
“It must be somebody real close to carry on so.”
“Oh my, oh my! To be mourned like that,” said one man and looked at Wilhelm's heavy shaken shoulders, his clutched face and whitened fair hair, with wide, glinting, jealous eyes.
“The man's brother, maybe?”
“Oh, I doubt that very much,” said another bystander. “They're not alike at all. Night and day.”
The flowers and lights fused ecstatically in Wilhelm's blind, wet eyes; the heavy sea-like music came up to his ears. It poured into him where he had hidden himself in the center of a crowd by the great and happy oblivion of tears. He heard it and sank deeper than sorrow, through torn sobs89 and cries toward the consummation of his heart's ultimate need.
The End
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hoofs
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| n.（兽的）蹄，马蹄( hoof的名词复数 )v.（兽的）蹄，马蹄( hoof的第三人称单数 ) | |
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hoary
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| adj.古老的；鬓发斑白的 | |
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pointed
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| adj.尖的，直截了当的 | |
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omen
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| n.征兆，预兆；vt.预示 | |
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dodged
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| v.闪躲( dodge的过去式和过去分词 )；回避 | |
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rouged
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| 胭脂，口红( rouge的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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mink
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| n.貂，貂皮 | |
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leash
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| n.牵狗的皮带，束缚；v.用皮带系住 | |
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dwarf
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| n.矮子，侏儒，矮小的动植物；vt.使…矮小 | |
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twigs
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| 细枝，嫩枝( twig的名词复数 ) | |
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brass
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| n.黄铜；黄铜器，铜管乐器 | |
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sanity
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| n.心智健全，神智正常，判断正确 | |
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jug
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| n.(有柄，小口，可盛水等的)大壶，罐，盂 | |
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throb
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| v.震颤，颤动；(急速强烈地)跳动，搏动 | |
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streaks
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| n.（与周围有所不同的）条纹( streak的名词复数 )；（通常指不好的）特征（倾向）；（不断经历成功或失败的）一段时期v.快速移动( streak的第三人称单数 )；使布满条纹 | |
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pajamas
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| n.睡衣裤 | |
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azure
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| adj.天蓝色的，蔚蓝色的 | |
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rusty
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| adj.生锈的；锈色的；荒废了的 | |
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bluffs
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| 恐吓( bluff的名词复数 )； 悬崖； 峭壁 | |
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jersey
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| n.运动衫 | |
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berths
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| n.（船、列车等的）卧铺( berth的名词复数 )；（船舶的）停泊位或锚位；差事；船台vt.v.停泊( berth的第三人称单数 )；占铺位 | |
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tugs
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| n.猛拉( tug的名词复数 )；猛拖；拖船v.用力拉，使劲拉，猛扯( tug的第三人称单数 ) | |
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brackish
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| adj.混有盐的；咸的 | |
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ledges
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| n.（墙壁，悬崖等）突出的狭长部分( ledge的名词复数 )；（平窄的）壁架；横档；（尤指）窗台 | |
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massage
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| n.按摩，揉；vt.按摩，揉，美化，奉承，篡改数据 | |
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deformed
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| adj.畸形的；变形的；丑的，破相了的 | |
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flickered
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| （通常指灯光）闪烁，摇曳( flicker的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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swirling
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| v.旋转，打旋( swirl的现在分词 ) | |
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descended
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| a.为...后裔的，出身于...的 | |
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ribs
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| n.肋骨( rib的名词复数 )；（船或屋顶等的）肋拱；肋骨状的东西；（织物的）凸条花纹 | |
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belly
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| n.肚子，腹部；(像肚子一样)鼓起的部分，膛 | |
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thighs
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| n.股，大腿( thigh的名词复数 )；食用的鸡（等的）腿 | |
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creased
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| （使…）起折痕，弄皱( crease的过去式和过去分词 )； （皮肤）皱起，使起皱纹； 皱皱巴巴 | |
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bent
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| n.爱好，癖好；adj.弯的；决心的，一心的 | |
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contagion
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| n.(通过接触的疾病)传染；蔓延 | |
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serenely
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| adv.安详地，宁静地，平静地 | |
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verge
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| n.边，边缘；v.接近，濒临 | |
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nostrils
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| 鼻孔( nostril的名词复数 ) | |
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misery
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| n.痛苦，苦恼，苦难；悲惨的境遇，贫苦 | |
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labor
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| n.劳动，努力，工作，劳工；分娩；vi.劳动，努力，苦干；vt.详细分析；麻烦 | |
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labored
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| adj.吃力的，谨慎的v.努力争取(for)( labor的过去式和过去分词 )；苦干；详细分析；（指引擎）缓慢而困难地运转 | |
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parlor
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| n.店铺，营业室；会客室，客厅 | |
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awakened
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| v.（使）醒( awaken的过去式和过去分词 )；（使）觉醒；弄醒；（使）意识到 | |
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longing
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| n.（for）渴望 | |
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shrugged
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| vt.耸肩（shrug的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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dimes
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| n.（美国、加拿大的）10分铸币( dime的名词复数 ) | |
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eligible
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| adj.有条件被选中的；(尤指婚姻等)合适(意)的 | |
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retirement
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| n.退休，退职 | |
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intercepted
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| 拦截( intercept的过去式和过去分词 )； 截住； 截击； 拦阻 | |
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killing
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| n.巨额利润；突然赚大钱，发大财 | |
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raving
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| adj.说胡话的；疯狂的，怒吼的；非常漂亮的；令人醉心[痴心]的v.胡言乱语(rave的现在分词)n.胡话；疯话adv.胡言乱语地；疯狂地 | |
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battered
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| adj.磨损的；v.连续猛击；磨损 | |
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parental
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| adj.父母的；父的；母的 | |
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suffocating
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| a.使人窒息的 | |
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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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frightful
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| adj.可怕的；讨厌的 | |
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apparatus
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| n.装置，器械；器具，设备 | |
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stifled
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| （使）窒息， （使）窒闷( stifle的过去式和过去分词 )； 镇压，遏制； 堵 | |
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utterly
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| adv.完全地，绝对地 | |
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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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spokes
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| n.（车轮的）辐条( spoke的名词复数 )；轮辐；破坏某人的计划；阻挠某人的行动 | |
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doorways
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| n.门口，门道( doorway的名词复数 ) | |
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refinement
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| n.文雅；高尚；精美；精制；精炼 | |
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motive
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| n.动机，目的；adv.发动的，运动的 | |
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tally
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| n.计数器，记分，一致，测量；vt.计算，记录，使一致；vi.计算，记分，一致 | |
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limousines
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| n.豪华轿车( limousine的名词复数 )；（往返机场接送旅客的）中型客车，小型公共汽车 | |
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curb
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| n.场外证券市场，场外交易；vt.制止，抑制 | |
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canopy
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| n.天篷，遮篷 | |
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pedestrians
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| n.步行者( pedestrian的名词复数 ) | |
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haughtily
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| adv. 傲慢地, 高傲地 | |
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chapel
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| n.小教堂，殡仪馆 | |
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itch
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| n.痒，渴望，疥癣；vi.发痒，渴望 | |
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forth
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| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
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cork
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| n.软木，软木塞 | |
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aisle
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| n.（教堂、教室、戏院等里的）过道，通道 | |
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velvet
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| n.丝绒，天鹅绒；adj.丝绒制的，柔软的 | |
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coffin
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| n.棺材，灵柩 | |
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corpse
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| n.尸体，死尸 | |
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swelled
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| 增强( swell的过去式和过去分词 )； 肿胀； （使）凸出； 充满（激情） | |
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distractions
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| n.使人分心的事[人]( distraction的名词复数 )；娱乐，消遣；心烦意乱；精神错乱 | |
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meditative
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| adj.沉思的，冥想的 | |
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tinge
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| vt.(较淡)着色于，染色；使带有…气息；n.淡淡色彩，些微的气息 | |
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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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stifling
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| a.令人窒息的 | |
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admiration
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| n.钦佩，赞美，羡慕 | |
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sobbed
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| 哭泣，啜泣( sob的过去式和过去分词 )； 哭诉，呜咽地说 | |
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coherence
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| n.紧凑；连贯；一致性 | |
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sobbing
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| <主方>Ⅰ adj.湿透的 | |
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sobs
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| 啜泣（声），呜咽（声）( sob的名词复数 ) | |
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