"He left me here to watch you and to render an account to him upon his return of all I should see and hear. I am not ugly;—but after what has passed, you would be foolish to expect the least favor from me. My eyes, ears, and tongue will do their duty. You must know, too, that the barine is in a very gloomy mood to-day. His lips are white, and he frequently passes his left hand over his forehead, a sure sign that a storm is raging within."
"My dear Ivan," answered Gilbert, "I also shall be absent all day; so you see your task of watching will be easy."
Ivan breathed a sigh of relief. It seemed as if a mountain had been taken from his breast.
"I see with pleasure," said he, "that you repent5 of your sin, and that you promise to be wiser in the future; ah, if my young master would only listen to reason, like you."
"Your young master, as you call him, will be as rational as myself.
But do me the favor to tell me—"
"Oh! don't be alarmed; his fainting fit was not long. I had hardly got to him, when he opened his eyes and asked me if you were still alive. On hearing my answer he exclaimed: 'Ah! my God! how happy I am! He lives and loves me!' Then he tried to rise, but was so weak that he fell back. I carried him to his bed and he said to me: 'Ivan, for four nights I have not closed my eyes,' and at these words he smiled and fell asleep, smiling, and he is asleep yet."
"In order to be wise, Stephane must be occupied. She must work with her mind and her hands. Here, take this little white flower," added he, handing him the one he had plucked the day before; "ask her, for me, to paint it in her herbarium to-day."
And as Ivan examined the plant with an air of distrust, he added:
"Go, and fear nothing. I've not hidden a note in it. I am a man of honor, my dear Ivan, and never break my word."
Ivan hid the flower in one of his sleeves and went out muttering to himself:
"How is all this going to end? Ah! may the Holy Trinity look down in pity upon this house. We are all lost!"
Gilbert went out. Leaving upon his right the plateau and its close thickets6, he gained the main road and followed the bank of the Rhine for a long distance. A thousand thoughts crowded in confusion through his mind; but he always came to the same conclusion:
"I will save this child, or lose my life in the attempt."
As the sun began to sink towards the horizon, he returned to the castle. He went in search of Father Alexis and found him in the chapel7. The good father had learned from Ivan what had happened the night before. He reproached Gilbert severely8, but nevertheless, after hearing his explanations, softened10 considerably11, and in a tone of grumbling12 indulgence, repeated the old proverb, "Everyone to his trade." "Oxen," added he, "are born to draw the plow13, birds to fly, bees to make honey, Gilberts to read and make great books, and Father Alexis to edify14 and console his fellow-creatures. You have encroached upon my prerogatives15. You wanted to walk in my shoes. And what has been the result of your efforts? The spoiling of my task! Have you not observed how much better this child has been for the last two months, how much more tranquil16, gentle, and resigned? I had preached so well to her, that she at last listened to reason. And you must come to put in her head a silly love which will cost both of you many tears."
Upon which, seizing him rudely by the arm, he continued:
"And what need had we of your assistance, the good God and I? Have you forgotten? Open your eyes and look! To-day, my child, even to-day I have put the finishing touch to my great work."
Then he pointed17 his finger to two long rows of sallow faces, surmounted18 by golden halos, which two lamps suspended from the ceiling illuminated19 with a mysterious light. Like a general enumerating20 his troops, he said:
"Look at these graybeards. That is Isaac, this Jeremiah, and this Ezekiel. On the other side are the holy warrior21 martyrs22. Then St. Procopius, there St. Theodore, who burnt the temple of Cybele. His torch may yet be relighted. And these archangels, do you think their arms will be forever nerveless and their swords always asleep in their scabbards?"
Then, falling upon his knees, he prayed aloud:
"And thou, holy mother of God, suffer thy unworthy servant to summon thee to keep thy promise. Let thy august power at last be made manifest. At the sight of thy frowning brows let there be accomplished23 a mystery of terror and tears in hardened hearts. Let the neck of the proud be broken, and let his haughty24 head, bent25 down by the breath of thy lips, as by the wind of a tempest, bow to the very earth and its hair sweep the dust of this pavement."
Just then they heard a voice calling:
"Father Alexis, Father Alexis, where are you?"
The priest turned pale and trembled. He tried in vain to rise, his knees seemed nailed to the ground.
"Ah! my child, did you not hear a divine voice answer me?"
"There is nothing divine in that voice. It has a strongly-marked Provencal accent, and if I am not mistaken, it belongs to Jasmin the cook, who is there in the court with a lantern in his hand, and is calling you."
"Perhaps you are right," answered the good father, shaking his head and passing his hand over his forehead, which was bathed in perspiration27. "Let us see what this good Jasmin wants. Perhaps he brings my dinner. I had notified him, however, that I proposed to fast to-day."
Jasmin no sooner saw them come out of the chapel than he ran towards them and said to the priest:
"I don't know, father, what has happened to Ivan, but when I went into his room to carry him his dinner, I found him stretched on his bed. I called him and shook him, but couldn't wake him up."
A shudder28 ran through Gilbert's whole body. Seizing the lantern from Jasmin he darted29 off on a run; in two seconds he was with Ivan. Jasmin had told the truth; the serf slept heavily and profoundly. By dint30 of pulling him by the arm, Gilbert succeeded in making him open his eyes; but he soon closed them again, turned towards the wall, and slept on.
"Someone must have given him a narcotic," said Gilbert, whispering to Father Alexis who had just joined him.
And addressing Jasmin, who had followed the priest.
"Has anyone been here this afternoon?"
"I ask your pardon," said the cook. "Doctor Vladimir returned from his walk at about five o'clock. This surprised me very much, as Count Kostia told me before he left, that M. Stephane would dine here alone to-day."
"The doctor is at the table then, now."
"Pardon, pardon! He didn't wish any dinner. He told me in a joking way, that he would shortly go to a grand dinner in the other world."
"But where is he then? In his study?"
"Two hours afterwards, he went out with M. Stephane."
"Which way did they go?" cried Gilbert, shaking him violently by the arm.
"Ah! pardon, sir, take care, you'll put my arm out of joint," answered the huge Provencal.
"Jasmin, my good Jasmin, answer me: which way did they go?"
"Ah! I remember now, they took the road to the woods."
Gilbert darted off instantly. Father Alexis cried after him in vain:
"Wait for me, my child, I will accompany you. I am a man of good judgment31." As if carried by the wind, Gilbert was already in the woods. His head bare, pale, out of breath, he ran at the top of his speed. Night had come, and the moon began to silver over the foliage32 which quivered at every breath of wind. Gilbert was blind to the moon's brightness, deaf to the sighing of the wind. He heard nothing but the diminishing sound of steps in the distance, he saw nothing but a cloud of blood which floated before his eyes and indicated the path; the sole thought which shed any light upon his mind, filled with gloomiest apprehensions33, was this:
"I did not understand this man! It was an offensive alliance which he proposed to me yesterday. I refused to avenge34 him: he is going to revenge himself, and a Russian serf seeking vengeance35 is capable of anything."
On he ran with unabated speed, and would have run to the end of the world if, in an elbow of the road, some steps before him, he had not suddenly perceived Stephane. Standing36 in the moonlight erect37 and motionless, Gilbert stopped, held out his arms, and uttered a cry. She trembled, turned, and running to him, cried:
"Gilbert, do you love me?"
He answered only by pressing her to his heart; and then perceiving Doctor Vladimir, who was sitting on the edge of a ditch, his head in his hands, he stammered38:
"This man here with you!"
"I do not know," said she in a trembling voice, "whether he is a mad man or a villain39; but it is certain that he is going to die, for he has poisoned himself."
"What have you to say?" said Gilbert, looking wildly at the dejected face of the doctor, upon which the moon was shining full. "Explain I beg of you."
"What do I know?" said she; "I think I have been dreaming since yesterday evening. It seems to me, however, that this man came to my room for me. He had taken the precaution to drug Ivan. I was dying with melancholy40. He persuaded me that you, my Gilbert, were waiting for me in one of the paths of this forest, to fly with me to a distant country. 'Let us go, let us go,' I cried; but on the way I began to think, I grew suspicious, and at this turning of the road I said to my gloomy companion: 'Bring my Gilbert to me here; I will go no further.' Then he looked at me with frightful41 eyes, and I believe said to me: 'What is your Gilbert to me? Follow me or you die;' and then he fumbled42 in his bosom43 as if to find a concealed44 weapon; but if I am not mistaken, I looked at him steadily46, and crossing my arms, said to him: 'Kill me, but you shall not make me take another step.'"
Vladimir raised his head.
"How deceptive47 resemblances are," said he in a hollow voice. "I once knew a woman who had the same contour of face, and one evening, by the sole power of my eye, I compelled her to fall at my feet, crying: 'Vladimir Paulitch, do with me what you will.' But your young friend has a soul made of different stuff. You can believe me if you wish, sir; but the fact is that her charming face suddenly struck me with an involuntary respect. It seemed to me that her head was adorned48 with a royal diadem49. Her eyes glowed with a noble pride; anger dilated50 her nostrils51, and while a scornful smile flitted over her lips, her whole face expressed the innocence52 of a soul as pure as the rays of the moon shining upon us. At this sight I thought of the woman of whom I spoke53 to you yesterday, and I felt a sensation of horror at the crime I had premeditated, and I, Doctor Vladimir, I prostrated54 myself at the feet of this child, saying to her: 'Forgive me, I am a wretch55;' after which I swallowed a strong dose of poison of my own composition, whose antidote56 I do not know, and in two hours I shall be no more."
Gilbert looked steadily at him.
"Ah! great God," thought he, "it was not the life but the honor of Stephane which was in danger! But the promised miracle has been wrought57, only this is not the one which Father Alexis expected, since it has been the work of the God of nature."
Stephane approached him, and taking his hands murmured:
"Gilbert, Gilbert, let us fly—let us fly together! There is yet time!"
But he only muttered:
"I see through it all!" Then turning to Vladimir he said in a tone of authority, "Follow me, sir! It is right that Count Kostia should receive your last breath."
Vladimir reflected for a moment, then rising, said:
"You are right. I must see him again before I die; but give me your arm, for the poison begins to work and my legs are very weak."
"To die—to breathe no more—no more to see the sun—no more to remember—to forget all!" And then he added, "One thing disturbs my happiness. I am not sufficiently59 revenged!"
At last his voice died upon his lips and his legs failed him. Gilbert was obliged to carry him on his shoulders, and was nearly giving out under the burden when he saw Father Alexis coming towards them breathless. He gave him no time to recover breath, but cried:
"Take this man by the feet. I will support his shoulders.
Forward! my good father, forward! We have no time to lose."
Father Alexis hastened to comply with Gilbert's request, and they continued on their way with bowed heads and in gloomy silence. Stephane alone, with her cap drawn60 over her eyes, occasionally uttered disconnected words and alternately cast a furtive61 glance at Gilbert, or gazed sadly at the moon. Arriving at the castle, they crossed the court and ascended62 the stairs without meeting anyone; but entering the vestibule of the first story, in which all the lamps were lighted, they heard a noise of steps in the corridor which led to the square tower.
"M. Leminof has returned," said Gilbert, trembling. "Father
Alexis, carry this man to his room. I will go and speak to the
Count, and will bring him to you in a moment."
Then taking Stephane by the arm, he whispered to her:
"In the name of Heaven, keep out of the way. Go down on the terrace and conceal45 yourself. Your father must not see you until he has heard me."
"Do you think I am afraid, then?" she replied, and escaping from him, darted off in the direction of the corridor.
Meanwhile Father Alexis had entered the room of Vladimir Paulitch, whom he sustained with difficulty in his trembling arms. At the moment he laid him upon his bed, a voice, which reached even to them, uttered these terrible words:
"Ah! this is braving me too much! Let her die!" Then a sharp cry pierced the air, followed by the dull noise of a body falling heavily upon the floor.
Father Alexis looked at Vladimir with horror. "The mother was not enough," cried he, "thou hast just killed the daughter!"
And he sprang out of the room distracted.
Vladimir sat up. An atrocious joy gleamed in his face; and recovering the use of his speech, he murmured, "My vengeance is complete!"
But at these words a groan63 escaped him—the poison began to burn his vitals. Nevertheless he forgot his sufferings when he saw the Count appear, followed by the priest, and holding in his hand a sword, which he threw in the corner.
"Count Kostia," cried the dying man, "what have you done with your daughter?"
"I have killed her," answered he sternly, questioning him with his eyes.
Vladimir remained silent a moment.
"My good master," resumed he, "do you remember that Pauline whom I loved? Do you also remember having seen me crouched64 at your feet crying, 'Mercy! Mercy! for her and for me'? My good master, have you forgotten that corner of the street where you said to me one day: 'This woman is charming; but if your marriage is not broken off before evening, to-morrow she will learn from me who you are'? That day, Count Kostia Petrovitch, you had a happy and smiling air. Say, Kostia Petrovitch, do you recollect65 it?"
The Count answered only by a disdainful smile.
"Oh! most simple and most credulous66 of men," continued Vladimir, "how could you think that I would empty the cup of sorrow and of shame to the very dregs, and not revenge myself upon him who smiled as he made me drink it."
"Six months later, you saved my life," said the Count, slightly shrugging his shoulders.
"Because your days were dear to me. You do not know then the tenderness of hatred67! I wished you to live, and that your life should be a hell."
And then he added, panting:
"The lover of the Countess Olga, . . . was I."
The Count staggered as if struck by lightning. He supported himself by the back of a chair, to avoid falling; then springing to the table, he seized a carafe68 full of water and emptied it in a single draught69. Then in a convulsed voice, he exclaimed:
"You lie! The Countess Olga could never have given herself to a serf!"
"Refer to your memory once more, Kostia Petrovitch. You forget that in her eyes I was not a serf, but an illustrious physician, a sort of great man. However, I will console you. The Countess Olga loved me no more than I loved her. My magnetic eyes, my threats had, as it were, bewitched her poor head; in my arms she was dying with fear, and when at the end of one of these sweet interviews, she heard me cry out, 'Olga Vassilievna, your lover is a serf,' she nearly perished of shame and horror."
The Count cast upon his serf a look of indescribable disgust, and, making a superhuman effort to speak, once more exclaimed: "Impossible! That letter which you addressed to me at Paris—"
"I feared that your dishonor might be concealed from you, and what would life have been to me then?"
M. Leminof turned to the priest who remained standing at the other end of the room. "Father Alexis, is what this man says true?"
The priest silently bowed.
"And was it for this, foolish priest, that you have endured death and martyrdom—to prolong the days of a worm of the earth?"
"I cared little for his life," answered the priest, with dignity, "but much for my conscience, and for the inviolable secrecy70 of the confessional."
"And for two years in succession you have suffered my mortal enemy to lodge71 under my roof without warning me?"
"I was ignorant of his history and of the fact that he had reasons for hating you. I fancied that a mad passion had made him a traitor72 to friendship, and that in repentance73 he sought to expiate74 his fault, by the assiduous attentions which he lavished75 upon you."
"Poor fellow!" said the Count, crushing him with a look of pity.
Then Vladimir resumed in a voice growing more and more feeble:
"Since that cursed hour, when I crawled at your feet, without being able to soften9 your stony76 heart with my tears, I became disgusted with life. To feel that I belonged to you was every instant a torment77. But if you ask me why I have deferred78 my death so long, I answer that while you had a daughter living my vengeance was not complete. I let this child grow up; but when the clock of fate struck the hour I waited for, courage suddenly failed me, and I was seized with scruples79, which still astonish me. But what am I saying? I bless my weakness, since I brought home a victim pure and without stain, and since her virginal innocence adds to the horror of your crime. Ah! tell me, was the steel which pierced her heart the same that silenced Morlof's? Oh, sword, thou art predestinated!"
Count Kostia's eyes brightened. He had something like a presentiment80 that he was about to be delivered from that fatal doubt which for so many years had poisoned his life, and he fixed81 his vulture-like eyes upon Vladimir.
"That child," said he, "was not my daughter."
Vladimir opened his vest, tore the lining82 with his nails and drew out a folded paper, which he threw at the Count's feet:
"Pick up that letter!" cried he, "the writing is known to you. I meant to have sent it to you by your dishonored daughter. Go and read it near your dead child."
M. Leminof picked up the letter, unfolded it, and read it to the end with bearing calm and firm. The first lines ran thus: "Vile83 Moujik. Thou hast made me a mother. Be happy and proud. Thou hast revealed to me that maternity84 can be a torture. In my ignorant simplicity85, I did not know until now it could be aught else than an intoxication86, a pride, a virtue87, which God and the church regard with favor, and the angels shelter with their white wings. When for the first time I felt my Stephan and my Stephane stir within me, my heart leaped for joy, and I could not find words enough to bless Heaven which at last rewarded six years of expectation; but now it is not a child I carry in bosom, it is a crime. . . ."
This letter of four pages shed light, and carried conviction into the mind of Count Kostia.
"She was really my daughter," said he, coolly. . . "Fortunately I have not killed her."
He left the room, and an instant after re-appeared, accompanied by
Gilbert, and carrying in his arms his daughter, pale and
disheveled, but living. He advanced into the middle of the room.
There, as if speaking to himself, he said:
"This young man is my good genius. He tore my sword from me. God be praised! he has saved her and me. This dear child was frightened, she fell, but she is unhurt. You see her, she is alive, her eyes are open, she hears, she breathes. To-morrow she shall smile, to-morrow we shall all be happy.
Then drawing her to the head of the bed and calling Gilbert to him, he placed his hands together, and standing behind them, embracing their shoulders in his powerful arms, and thrusting his head between theirs, he forced them, in spite of themselves, to bend with him over the dying man.
Gilbert and Stephane closed their eyes.
The Count's and Vladimir's were wide open devouring88 each other. The master's flamed like torches; the serf's were sunken, glassy, and filled with the fear and horror of death. He seemed almost petrified89, and murmured in a failing voice:
One last look, full of hatred, flashed from his eyes, over which the eternal shadow was creeping, his features contracted, his mouth became distorted, and, uttering a frightful cry, he rendered up his soul.
Then the Count slowly raised himself. His arms, in which he held the two young people as in a living vice91, relaxed, and Stephane fell upon Gilbert's breast. Confused, colorless, wild-eyed, intoxicated92 with joy and terror at the same time, clinging to her friend as the sailor to his plank93 of safety, she said in an indistinct voice:
The Count said to Gilbert:
"Console her, calm her emotion. She is yours. I have given her to you. Do not fear that I shall take her back again." Then, turning again to the bed, he exclaimed: "What a terrible thorn death has just drawn from my heart!"
In the midst of so many tragic95 sensations, who was happy? Father Alexis was, and he had no desire to hide it. He went and came, moved the furniture, passed his hand over his beard, struck his chest with all his might, and presently in his excess of joy threw himself upon Stephane and then upon Gilbert, caressing96 and embracing them. At last, kneeling down by the bed of death, under the eyes of the Count, he took the head of the dead man between his hands and kissed him upon the mouth and cheeks, saying:
"My poor brother, thou hast perhaps been more unfortunate than guilty. May God, in the unfathomable mystery of his infinite mercy, give thee one day, as I have, the kiss of peace! Then raising his clasped hands, he said: "Holy mother of God: blessed be thy name. Thou hast done more than I dared to ask."
At that moment Ivan, roused at last from his long lethargy, appeared at the threshold of the door. For some minutes he remained paralyzed by astonishment97, and looked around distractedly; then, throwing himself at his master's feet and tearing his hair, he cried:
"Seigneur Pere, I am not a traitor! That man mixed some drug in my tea which put me to sleep. Seigneur Pere, kill me, but do not say that I am a traitor."
"Rise," returned the Count gayly, "rise, I say. I shall not kill thee. I am not going to kill anybody. My son, thou'rt a rusty98 old tool. Dost know what I shall do with thee? I shall slip thee in among the wedding presents of Madame Gilbert Saville."
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distressing
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| a.使人痛苦的 | |
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swollen
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| adj.肿大的，水涨的；v.使变大，肿胀 | |
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bloody
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| adj.非常的的；流血的；残忍的；adv.很；vt.血染 | |
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furrowed
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repent
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| v.悔悟，悔改，忏悔，后悔 | |
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thickets
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chapel
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| n.小教堂，殡仪馆 | |
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severely
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| adv.严格地；严厉地；非常恶劣地 | |
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soften
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| v.(使)变柔软；(使)变柔和 | |
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softened
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| （使）变软( soften的过去式和过去分词 )； 缓解打击； 缓和； 安慰 | |
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considerably
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grumbling
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| adj. 喃喃鸣不平的, 出怨言的 | |
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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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edify
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| v.陶冶；教化；启发 | |
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prerogatives
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| n.权利( prerogative的名词复数 )；特权；大主教法庭；总督委任组成的法庭 | |
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tranquil
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pointed
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surmounted
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| 战胜( surmount的过去式和过去分词 )； 克服（困难）； 居于…之上； 在…顶上 | |
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illuminated
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enumerating
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warrior
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martyrs
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| n.martyr的复数形式；烈士( martyr的名词复数 )；殉道者；殉教者；乞怜者（向人诉苦以博取同情） | |
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accomplished
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haughty
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bent
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helping
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perspiration
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shudder
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darted
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dint
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judgment
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foliage
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apprehensions
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avenge
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vengeance
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standing
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erect
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| n./v.树立，建立，使竖立；adj.直立的，垂直的 | |
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stammered
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| v.结巴地说出( stammer的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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villain
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| n.反派演员，反面人物；恶棍；问题的起因 | |
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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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frightful
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| adj.可怕的；讨厌的 | |
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fumbled
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| （笨拙地）摸索或处理（某事物）( fumble的过去式和过去分词 )； 乱摸，笨拙地弄； 使落下 | |
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43
bosom
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| n.胸，胸部；胸怀；内心；adj.亲密的 | |
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concealed
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| a.隐藏的，隐蔽的 | |
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45
conceal
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| v.隐藏，隐瞒，隐蔽 | |
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steadily
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| adv.稳定地；不变地；持续地 | |
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deceptive
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| adj.骗人的，造成假象的，靠不住的 | |
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adorned
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| [计]被修饰的 | |
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diadem
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| n.王冠，冕 | |
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dilated
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| adj.加宽的，扩大的v.（使某物）扩大，膨胀，张大( dilate的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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51
nostrils
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| 鼻孔( nostril的名词复数 ) | |
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52
innocence
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| n.无罪；天真；无害 | |
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spoke
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| n.（车轮的）辐条；轮辐；破坏某人的计划；阻挠某人的行动 v.讲，谈（speak的过去式）；说；演说；从某种观点来说 | |
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54
prostrated
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| v.使俯伏，使拜倒( prostrate的过去式和过去分词 )；（指疾病、天气等）使某人无能为力 | |
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wretch
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| n.可怜的人，不幸的人；卑鄙的人 | |
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antidote
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| n.解毒药，解毒剂 | |
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wrought
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| v.引起；以…原料制作；运转；adj.制造的 | |
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intervals
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| n.[军事]间隔( interval的名词复数 )；间隔时间；[数学]区间；（戏剧、电影或音乐会的）幕间休息 | |
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sufficiently
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| adv.足够地，充分地 | |
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drawn
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| v.拖，拉，拔出；adj.憔悴的，紧张的 | |
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furtive
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| adj.鬼鬼崇崇的，偷偷摸摸的 | |
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ascended
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| v.上升，攀登( ascend的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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groan
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| vi./n.呻吟，抱怨；(发出)呻吟般的声音 | |
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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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recollect
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| v.回忆，想起，记起，忆起，记得 | |
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credulous
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| adj.轻信的，易信的 | |
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hatred
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| n.憎恶，憎恨，仇恨 | |
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carafe
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| n.玻璃水瓶 | |
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draught
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| n.拉，牵引，拖；一网（饮，吸，阵)；顿服药量，通风；v.起草，设计 | |
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secrecy
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| n.秘密，保密，隐蔽 | |
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71
lodge
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| v.临时住宿，寄宿，寄存，容纳；n.传达室，小旅馆 | |
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traitor
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| n.叛徒，卖国贼 | |
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repentance
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| n.懊悔 | |
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expiate
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| v.抵补，赎罪 | |
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lavished
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| v.过分给予，滥施( lavish的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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stony
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| adj.石头的，多石头的，冷酷的，无情的 | |
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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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deferred
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| adj.延期的，缓召的v.拖延，延缓，推迟( defer的过去式和过去分词 )；服从某人的意愿，遵从 | |
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scruples
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| n.良心上的不安( scruple的名词复数 )；顾虑，顾忌v.感到于心不安，有顾忌( scruple的第三人称单数 ) | |
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presentiment
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| n.预感，预觉 | |
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81
fixed
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| adj.固定的，不变的，准备好的；(计算机)固定的 | |
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lining
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| n.衬里，衬料 | |
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83
vile
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| adj.卑鄙的，可耻的，邪恶的；坏透的 | |
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84
maternity
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| n.母性，母道，妇产科病房；adj.孕妇的，母性的 | |
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85
simplicity
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| n.简单，简易；朴素；直率，单纯 | |
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86
intoxication
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| n.wild excitement;drunkenness；poisoning | |
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87
virtue
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| n.德行，美德；贞操；优点；功效，效力 | |
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88
devouring
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| 吞没( devour的现在分词 )； 耗尽； 津津有味地看； 狼吞虎咽地吃光 | |
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89
petrified
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| adj.惊呆的；目瞪口呆的v.使吓呆，使惊呆；变僵硬；使石化(petrify的过去式和过去分词) | |
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undone
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| a.未做完的，未完成的 | |
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91
vice
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| n.坏事；恶习；[pl.]台钳，老虎钳；adj.副的 | |
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intoxicated
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| 喝醉的，极其兴奋的 | |
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93
plank
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| n.板条，木板，政策要点，政纲条目 | |
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94
condemn
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| vt.谴责，指责；宣判(罪犯)，判刑 | |
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95
tragic
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| adj.悲剧的，悲剧性的，悲惨的 | |
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96
caressing
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| 爱抚的，表现爱情的，亲切的 | |
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97
astonishment
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| n.惊奇，惊异 | |
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98
rusty
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| adj.生锈的；锈色的；荒废了的 | |
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