The night-lamp with a bluish shade was burning on the chimney-piece, behind a book, whose shadows plunged1 more than half the chamber2 in darkness. There was a quiet gleam of light cutting across the round table and the couch, streaming over the heavy folds of the velvet3 curtains, and imparting an azure4 hue5 to the mirror of the rosewood wardrobe placed between the two windows. The quiet simplicity6 of the room, the blue tints7 on the hangings, furniture, and carpet, served at this hour of night to invest everything with the delightful8 vagueness of cloudland. Facing the windows, and within sweep of the shadow, loomed9 the velvet-curtained bed, a black mass, relieved only by the white of the sheets. With hands crossed on her bosom10, and breathing lightly, lay Helene, asleep--mother and widow alike personified by the quiet unrestraint of her attitude.
In the midst of the silence one o'clock chimed from the timepiece. The noises of the neighborhood had died away; the dull, distant roar of the city was the only sign of life that disturbed those Trocadero heights. Helene's breathing, so light and gentle, did not ruffle11 the chaste12 repose13 of her bosom. She was in a beauteous sleep, peaceful yet sound, her profile perfect, her nut-brown hair twisted into a knot, and her head leaning forward somewhat, as though she had fallen asleep while eagerly listening. At the farther end of the room the open door of an adjoining closet seemed but a black square in the wall.
Still there was not a sound. The half-hour struck. The pendulum14 gave but a feeble tick-tack amid the general drowsiness15 that brooded over the whole chamber. Everything was sleeping, night-lamp and furniture alike; on the table, near an extinguished lamp, some woman's handiwork was disposed also in slumber16. Helene in her sleep retained her air of gravity and kindliness17.
Two o'clock struck, and the stillness was broken. A deep sigh issued from the darkness of the closet. There was a rustling18 of linen19 sheets, and then silence reigned20 again. Anon labored21 breathing broke through the gloom. Helene had not moved. Suddenly, however, she started up, for the moanings and cries of a child in pain had roused her. Dazed with sleep, she pressed her hands against her temples, but hearing a stifled22 sob23, she leaped from her couch on to the carpet.
"Jeanne! my Jeanne! what ails24 you? tell me, love," she asked; and as the child remained silent, she murmured, while running towards the night-light, "Gracious Heaven! why did I go to bed when she was so ill?"
Quickly she entered the closet, where deep silence had again fallen. The feeble gleam of the lamp threw but a circular patch of light on the ceiling. Bending over the iron cot, she could at first make out nothing, but amidst the bed-clothes, tossed about in disorder25, the dim light soon revealed Jeanne, with limbs quite stiff, her head flung back, the muscles of her neck swollen26 and rigid27. Her sweet face was distorted, her eyes were open and fixed28 on the curtain-rod above.
"My child!" cried Helene. "My God! my God! she is dying."
Setting down the lamp, Helene touched her daughter with trembling hands. The throbbing29 of the pulse and the heart's action seemed to have died away. The child's puny30 arms and legs were stretched out convulsively, and the mother grew frantic31 at the sight.
She wandered back to her room, brushing against the furniture, and unconscious of her movements; then, distracted, she again returned to the little bed, throwing herself on her knees, and ever appealing for help. She took Jeanne in her arms, rained kisses on her hair, and stroked her little body, begging her to answer, and seeking one word --only one word--from her silent lips. Where was the pain? Would she have some of the cooling drink she had liked the other day? Perhaps the fresh air would revive her? So she rattled33 on, bent34 on making the child speak.
Oh, God! and not to know what to do in this sudden terror born of the night! There was no light even. Then her ideas grew confused, though her supplications to the child continued--at one moment she was beseeching36, at another answering in her own person. Thus, the pain gripped her in the stomach; no, no, it must be in the breast. It was nothing at all; she need merely keep quiet. Then Helene tried to collect her scattered38 senses; but as she felt her daughter stark39 and stiff in her embrace, her heart sickened unto death. She tried to reason with herself, and to resist the yearning40 to scream. But all at once, despite herself, her cry rang out
"Rosalie, Rosalie! my child is dying. Quick, hurry for the doctor."
Screaming out these words, she ran through dining-room and kitchen to a room in the rear, where the maid started up from sleep, giving vent41 to her surprise. Helene speeded back again. Clad only in her night-dress she moved about, seemingly not feeling the icy cold of the February night. Pah! this maid would loiter, and her child would die! Back again she hurried through the kitchen to the bedroom before a minute had elapsed. Violently, and in the dark, she slipped on a petticoat, and threw a shawl over her shoulders. The furniture in her way was overturned; the room so still and silent was filled with the echoes of her despair. Then leaving the doors open, she rushed down three flights of stairs in her slippers42, consumed with the thought that she alone could bring back a doctor.
After the house-porter had opened the door Helene found herself upon the pavement, with a ringing in her ears and her mind distracted. However, she quickly ran down the Rue43 Vineuse and pulled the door-bell of Doctor Bodin, who had already tended Jeanne; but a servant--after an interval44 which seemed an eternity--informed her that the doctor was attending a woman in childbed. Helene remained stupefied on the footway; she knew no other doctor in Passy. For a few moments she rushed about the streets, gazing at the houses. A slight but keen wind was blowing, and she was walking in slippers through the light snow that had fallen during the evening. Ever before her was her daughter, with the agonizing45 thought that she was killing46 her by not finding a doctor at once. Then, as she retraced47 her steps along the Rue Vineuse, she rang the bell of another house. She would inquire, at all events; some one would perhaps direct her. She gave a second tug48 at the bell; but no one seemed to come. The wind meanwhile played with her petticoat, making it cling to her legs, and tossed her dishevelled hair.
At last a servant answered her summons. "Doctor Deberle was in bed asleep." It was a doctor's house at which she had rung, so Heaven had not abandoned her! Straightway, intent upon entering, she pushed the servant aside, still repeating her prayer:
"My child, my child is dying! Oh, tell him he must come!"
The house was small and seemed full of hangings. She reached the first floor, despite the servant's opposition49, always answering his protest with the words, "My child is dying!" In the apartment she entered she would have been content to wait; but the moment she heard the doctor stirring in the next room she drew near and appealed to him through the doorway50:
When the doctor at last appeared in a short coat and without a neckcloth, she dragged him away without allowing him to finish dressing51. He at once recognized her as a resident in the next-door house, and one of his own tenants52; so when he induced her to cross a garden--to shorten the way by using a side-door between the two houses --memory suddenly awoke within her.
"True, you are a doctor!" she murmured, "and I knew it. But I was distracted. Oh, let us hurry!"
On the staircase she wished him to go first. She could not have admitted the Divinity to her home in a more reverent53 manner. Upstairs Rosalie had remained near the child, and had lit the large lamp on the table. After the doctor had entered the room he took up this lamp and cast its light upon the body of the child, which retained its painful rigidity54; the head, however, had slipped forward, and nervous twitchings were ceaselessly drawing the face. For a minute he looked on in silence, his lips compressed. Helene anxiously watched him, and on noticing the mother's imploring55 glance, he muttered: "It will be nothing. But she must not lie here. She must have air."
Helene grasped her child in a strong embrace, and carried her away on her shoulder. She could have kissed the doctor's hand for his good tidings, and a wave of happiness rippled56 through her. Scarcely, however, had Jeanne been placed in the larger bed than her poor little frame was again seized with violent convulsions. The doctor had removed the shade from the lamp, and a white light was streaming through the room. Then, opening a window, he ordered Rosalie to drag the bed away from the curtains. Helene's heart was again filled with anguish57. "Oh, sir, she is dying," she stammered. "Look! look! Ah! I scarcely recognize her."
The doctor did not reply, but watched the paroxysm attentively58.
"Step into the alcove," he at last exclaimed. "Hold her hands to prevent her from tearing herself. There now, gently, quietly! Don't make yourself uneasy. The fit must be allowed to run its course."
They both bent over the bed, supporting and holding Jeanne, whose limbs shot out with sudden jerks. The doctor had buttoned up his coat to hide his bare neck, and Helene's shoulders had till now been enveloped59 in her shawl; but Jeanne in her struggles dragged a corner of the shawl away, and unbuttoned the top of the coat. Still they did not notice it; they never even looked at one another.
At last the convulsion ceased, and the little one then appeared to sink into deep prostration60. Doctor Deberle was evidently ill at ease, though he had assured the mother that there was no danger. He kept his gaze fixed on the sufferer, and put some brief questions to Helene as she stood by the bedside.
"How old is the child?"
"Eleven years and six months, sir," was the reply.
Silence again fell between them. He shook his head, and stooped to raise one of Jeanne's lowered eyelids61 and examine the mucus. Then he resumed his questions, but without raising his eyes to Helene.
"Did she have convulsions when she was a baby?"
"Yes, sir; but they left her after she reached her sixth birthday. Ah! she is very delicate. For some days past she had seemed ill at ease. She was at times taken with cramp62, and plunged in a stupor63."
"Do you know of any members of your family that have suffered from nervous affections?"
"I don't know. My mother was carried off by consumption."
Here shame made her pause. She could not confess that she had a grandmother who was an inmate64 of a lunatic asylum65.[*] There was something tragic66 connected with all her ancestry67.
[*] This is Adelaide Fouque, otherwise Aunt Dide, the
ancestress of the Rougon-Macquart family, whose early
career is related in the "Fortune of the Rougons,"
whilst her death is graphically68 described in the pages
of "Dr. Pascal."
"Take care! the convulsions are coming on again!" now hastily exclaimed the doctor.
Jeanne had just opened her eyes, and for a moment she gazed around her with a vacant look, never speaking a word. Her glance then grew fixed, her body was violently thrown backwards69, and her limbs became distended70 and rigid. Her skin, fiery-red, all at once turned livid. Her pallor was the pallor of death; the convulsions began once more.
"Do not loose your hold of her," said the doctor. "Take her other hand!"
He ran to the table, where, on entering, he had placed a small medicine-case. He came back with a bottle, the contents of which he made Jeanne inhale71; but the effect was like that of a terrible lash72; the child gave such a violent jerk that she slipped from her mother's hands.
"No, no, don't give her ether," exclaimed Helene, warned by the odor. "It drives her mad."
The two had now scarcely strength enough to keep the child under control. Her frame was racked and distorted, raised by the heels and the nape of the neck, as if bent in two. But she fell back again and began tossing from one side of the bed to the other. Her fists were clenched73, her thumbs bent against the palms of her hands. At times she would open the latter, and, with fingers wide apart, grasp at phantom74 bodies in the air, as though to twist them. She touched her mother's shawl and fiercely clung to it. But Helene's greatest grief was that she no longer recognized her daughter. The suffering angel, whose face was usually so sweet, was transformed in every feature, while her eyes swam, showing balls of a nacreous blue.
She had just remembered how the child of a neighbor at Marseilles had died of suffocation77 in a similar fit. Perhaps from feelings of pity the doctor was deceiving her. Every moment she believed she felt Jeanne's last breath against her face; for the child's halting respiration78 seemed suddenly to cease. Heartbroken and overwhelmed with terror, Helene then burst into tears, which fell on the body of her child, who had thrown off the bedclothes.
The doctor meantime was gently kneading the base of the neck with his long supple79 fingers. Gradually the fit subsided80, and Jeanne, after a few slight twitches81, lay there motionless. She had fallen back in the middle of the bed, with limbs outstretched, while her head, supported by the pillow, inclined towards her bosom. One might have thought her an infant Jesus. Helene stooped and pressed a long kiss on her brow.
"Is it over?" she asked in a whisper. "Do you think she'll have another fit?"
The doctor made an evasive gesture, and then replied:
"In any case the others will be less violent."
He had asked Rosalie for a glass and water-bottle. Half-filling the glass with water, he took up two fresh medicine phials, and counted out a number of drops. Helene assisted in raising the child's head, and the doctor succeeded in pouring a spoonful of the liquid between the clenched teeth. The white flame of the lamp was leaping up high and clear, revealing the disorder of the chamber's furnishings. Helene's garments, thrown on the back of an arm-chair before she slipped into bed, had now fallen, and were littering the carpet. The doctor had trodden on her stays, and had picked them up lest he might again find them in his way. An odor of vervain stole through the room. The doctor himself went for the basin, and soaked a linen cloth in it, which he then pressed to Jeanne's temples.
"Oh, madame, you'll take cold!" expostulated Rosalie as she stood there shivering. "Perhaps the window might be shut? The air is too raw."
"No, no!" cried Helene; "leave the window open. Should it not be so?" she appealed to the doctor.
The wind entered in slight puffs82, rustling the curtains to and fro; but she was quite unconscious of it. Yet the shawl had slipped off her shoulders, and her hair had become unwound, some wanton tresses sweeping83 down to her hips84. She had left her arms free and uncovered, that she might be the more ready; she had forgotten all, absorbed entirely85 in her love for her child. And on his side, the doctor, busy with his work, no longer thought of his unbuttoned coat, or of the shirt-collar that Jeanne's clutch had torn away.
"Raise her up a little," said he to Helene. "No, no, not in that way! Give me your hand."
He took her hand and placed it under the child's head. He wished to give Jeanne another spoonful of the medicine. Then he called Helene close to him, made use of her as his assistant; and she obeyed him reverently86 on seeing that her daughter was already more calm.
"Now, come," he said. "You must let her head lean against your shoulder, while I listen."
Helene did as he bade her, and he bent over her to place his ear against Jeanne's bosom. He touched her bare shoulder with his cheek, and as the pulsation87 of the child's heart struck his ear he could also have heard the throbbing of the mother's breast. As he rose up his breath mingled88 with Helene's.
"There is nothing wrong there," was the quiet remark that filled her with delight. "Lay her down again. We must not worry her more."
However, another, though much less violent, paroxysm followed. From Jeanne's lips burst some broken words. At short intervals89 two fresh attacks seemed about to convulse her, and then a great prostration, which again appeared to alarm the doctor, fell on the child. He had placed her so that her head lay high, with the clothes carefully tucked under her chin; and for nearly an hour he remained there watching her, as though awaiting the return of a healthy respiration. On the other side of the bed Helene also waited, never moving a limb.
Little by little a great calm settled on Jeanne's face. The lamp cast a sunny light upon it, and it regained90 its exquisite91 though somewhat lengthy92 oval. Jeanne's fine eyes, now closed, had large, bluish, transparent93 lids, which veiled--one could divine it--a sombre, flashing glance. A light breathing came from her slender nose, while round her somewhat large mouth played a vague smile. She slept thus, amidst her outspread tresses, which were inky black.
"It has all passed away now," said the doctor in a whisper; and he turned to arrange his medicine bottles prior to leaving.
"Oh, sir!" exclaimed Helene, approaching him, "don't leave me yet; wait a few minutes. Another fit might come on, and you, you alone, have saved her!"
He signed to her that there was nothing to fear; yet he tarried, with the idea of tranquillizing her. She had already sent Rosalie to bed; and now the dawn soon broke, still and grey, over the snow which whitened the housetops. The doctor proceeded to close the window, and in the deep quiet the two exchanged a few whispers.
"There is nothing seriously wrong with her, I assure you," said he; "only with one so young great care must be taken. You must see that her days are spent quietly and happily, and without shocks of any kind."
"She is so delicate and nervous," replied Helene after a moment's pause. "I cannot always control her. For the most trifling94 reasons she is so overcome by joy or sorrow that I grow alarmed. She loves me with a passion, a jealousy95, which makes her burst into tears when I caress96 another child."
"So, so--delicate, nervous, and jealous," repeated the doctor as he shook his head. "Doctor Bodin has attended her, has he not? I'll have a talk with him about her. We shall have to adopt energetic treatment. She has reached an age that is critical in one of her sex."
Recognizing the interest he displayed, Helene gave vent to her gratitude97. "How I must thank you, sir, for the great trouble you have taken!"
The loudness of her tones frightened her, however; she might have woke Jeanne, and she bent down over the bed. But no; the child was sound asleep, with rosy98 cheeks, and a vague smile playing round her lips. The air of the quiet chamber was charged with languor99. The whilom drowsiness, as if born again of relief, once more seized upon the curtains, furniture, and littered garments. Everything was steeped restfully in the early morning light as it entered through the two windows.
Helene again stood up close to the bed; on the other side was the doctor, and between them lay Jeanne, lightly sleeping.
"Her father was frequently ill," remarked Helene softly, continuing her answer to his previous question. "I myself enjoy the best of health."
The doctor, who had not yet looked at her, raised his eyes, and could scarcely refrain from smiling, so hale and hearty100 was she in every way. She greeted his gaze with her own sweet and quiet smile. Her happiness lay in her good health.
However, his looks were still bent on her. Never had he seen such classical beauty. Tall and commanding, she was a nut-brown Juno, of a nut-brown sunny with gleams of gold. When she slowly turned her head, its profile showed the severe purity of a statue. Her grey eyes and pearly teeth lit up her whole face. Her chin, rounded and somewhat pronounced, proved her to be possessed101 of commonsense102 and firmness. But what astonished the doctor was the superbness of her whole figure. She stood there, a model of queenliness, chastity, and modesty103.
On her side also she scanned him for a moment. Doctor Deberle's years were thirty-five; his face was clean-shaven and a little long; he had keen eyes and thin lips. As she gazed on him she noticed for the first time that his neck was bare. Thus they remained face to face, with Jeanne asleep between them. The distance which but a short time before had appeared immense, now seemed to be dwindling104 away. Then Helene slowly wrapped the shawl about her shoulders again, while the doctor hastened to button his coat at the neck.
"Mamma! mamma!" Jeanne stammered in her sleep. She was waking, and on opening her eyes she saw the doctor and became uneasy.
"Mamma, who's that?" was her instant question; but her mother kissed her, and replied: "Go to sleep, darling, you haven't been well. It's only a friend."
The child seemed surprised; she did not remember anything. Drowsiness was coming over her once more, and she fell asleep again, murmuring tenderly: "I'm going to by-by. Good-night, mamma, dear. If he is your friend he will be mine."
The doctor had removed his medicine-case, and, with a silent bow, he left the room. Helene listened for a while to the child's breathing, and then, seated on the edge of the bed, she became oblivious105 to everything around her; her looks and thoughts wandering far away. The lamp, still burning, was paling in the growing sunlight.
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1
plunged
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| v.颠簸( plunge的过去式和过去分词 )；暴跌；骤降；突降 | |
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chamber
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| n.房间，寝室；会议厅；议院；会所 | |
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3
velvet
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| n.丝绒，天鹅绒；adj.丝绒制的，柔软的 | |
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4
azure
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| adj.天蓝色的，蔚蓝色的 | |
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5
hue
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| n.色度；色调；样子 | |
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6
simplicity
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| n.简单，简易；朴素；直率，单纯 | |
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7
tints
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| 色彩( tint的名词复数 )； 带白的颜色； （淡色）染发剂； 痕迹 | |
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8
delightful
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| adj.令人高兴的，使人快乐的 | |
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9
loomed
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| v.隐约出现，阴森地逼近( loom的过去式和过去分词 )；隐约出现，阴森地逼近 | |
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10
bosom
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| n.胸，胸部；胸怀；内心；adj.亲密的 | |
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11
ruffle
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| v.弄皱，弄乱；激怒，扰乱；n.褶裥饰边 | |
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12
chaste
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| adj.贞洁的；有道德的；善良的；简朴的 | |
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13
repose
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| v.(使)休息；n.安息 | |
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pendulum
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| n.摆，钟摆 | |
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15
drowsiness
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| n.睡意；嗜睡 | |
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16
slumber
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| n.睡眠，沉睡状态 | |
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17
kindliness
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| n.厚道，亲切，友好的行为 | |
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18
rustling
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| n. 瑟瑟声，沙沙声 adj. 发沙沙声的 | |
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19
linen
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| n.亚麻布，亚麻线，亚麻制品；adj.亚麻布制的，亚麻的 | |
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20
reigned
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| vi.当政，统治（reign的过去式形式） | |
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21
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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22
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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23
sob
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| n.空间轨道的轰炸机；呜咽，哭泣 | |
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24
ails
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| v.生病( ail的第三人称单数 )；感到不舒服；处境困难；境况不佳 | |
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25
disorder
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| n.紊乱，混乱；骚动，骚乱；疾病，失调 | |
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26
swollen
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| adj.肿大的，水涨的；v.使变大，肿胀 | |
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rigid
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| adj.严格的，死板的；刚硬的，僵硬的 | |
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28
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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29
throbbing
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| a. 跳动的,悸动的 | |
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30
puny
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| adj.微不足道的，弱小的 | |
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frantic
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| adj.狂乱的，错乱的，激昂的 | |
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32
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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rattled
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| 慌乱的，恼火的 | |
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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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35
entreat
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| v.恳求，恳请 | |
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36
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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beseech
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| v.祈求，恳求 | |
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38
scattered
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| adj.分散的，稀疏的；散步的；疏疏落落的 | |
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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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40
yearning
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| a.渴望的；向往的；怀念的 | |
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41
vent
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| n.通风口，排放口；开衩；vt.表达，发泄 | |
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42
slippers
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| n. 拖鞋 | |
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43
rue
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| n.懊悔，芸香，后悔；v.后悔，悲伤，懊悔 | |
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44
interval
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| n.间隔，间距；幕间休息，中场休息 | |
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45
agonizing
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| adj.痛苦难忍的；使人苦恼的v.使极度痛苦；折磨(agonize的ing形式) | |
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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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retraced
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| v.折回( retrace的过去式和过去分词 )；回忆；回顾；追溯 | |
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tug
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| v.用力拖(或拉)；苦干；n.拖；苦干；拖船 | |
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opposition
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| n.反对，敌对 | |
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50
doorway
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| n.门口，(喻)入门；门路，途径 | |
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51
dressing
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| n.(食物)调料；包扎伤口的用品，敷料 | |
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52
tenants
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| n.房客( tenant的名词复数 )；佃户；占用者；占有者 | |
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reverent
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| adj.恭敬的，虔诚的 | |
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54
rigidity
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| adj.钢性，坚硬 | |
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imploring
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| 恳求的，哀求的 | |
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rippled
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| 使泛起涟漪（ripple的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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anguish
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| n.(尤指心灵上的)极度痛苦，烦恼 | |
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attentively
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| adv.聚精会神地；周到地；谛；凝神 | |
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enveloped
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| v.包围，笼罩，包住( envelop的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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prostration
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| n. 平伏, 跪倒, 疲劳 | |
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eyelids
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| n.眼睑( eyelid的名词复数 )；眼睛也不眨一下；不露声色；面不改色 | |
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cramp
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| n.痉挛；[pl.](腹)绞痛；vt.限制，束缚 | |
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stupor
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| v.昏迷；不省人事 | |
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inmate
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| n.被收容者；(房屋等的)居住人；住院人 | |
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asylum
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| n.避难所，庇护所，避难 | |
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tragic
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| adj.悲剧的，悲剧性的，悲惨的 | |
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ancestry
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| n.祖先，家世 | |
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graphically
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| adv.通过图表；生动地，轮廓分明地 | |
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backwards
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| adv.往回地，向原处，倒，相反，前后倒置地 | |
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distended
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| v.（使）膨胀，肿胀( distend的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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inhale
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| v.吸入(气体等)，吸(烟) | |
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lash
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| v.系牢；鞭打；猛烈抨击；n.鞭打；眼睫毛 | |
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clenched
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| v.紧握，抓紧，咬紧( clench的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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phantom
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| n.幻影，虚位，幽灵；adj.错觉的，幻影的，幽灵的 | |
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implore
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| vt.乞求，恳求，哀求 | |
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exhausted
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| adj.极其疲惫的，精疲力尽的 | |
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suffocation
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| n.窒息 | |
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respiration
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| n.呼吸作用；一次呼吸；植物光合作用 | |
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supple
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| adj.柔软的，易弯的，逢迎的，顺从的，灵活的；vt.使柔软，使柔顺，使顺从；vi.变柔软，变柔顺 | |
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subsided
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| v.（土地）下陷（因在地下采矿）( subside的过去式和过去分词 )；减弱；下降至较低或正常水平；一下子坐在椅子等上 | |
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twitches
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| n.（使）抽动， （使）颤动， （使）抽搐( twitch的名词复数 ) | |
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puffs
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| n.吸( puff的名词复数 )；（烟斗或香烟的）一吸；一缕（烟、蒸汽等）；（呼吸或风的）呼v.使喷出( puff的第三人称单数 )；喷着汽（或烟）移动；吹嘘；吹捧 | |
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sweeping
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| adj.范围广大的，一扫无遗的 | |
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hips
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| abbr.high impact polystyrene 高冲击强度聚苯乙烯，耐冲性聚苯乙烯n.臀部( hip的名词复数 )；[建筑学]屋脊；臀围（尺寸）；臀部…的 | |
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entirely
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| ad.全部地，完整地；完全地，彻底地 | |
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reverently
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| adv.虔诚地 | |
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pulsation
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| n.脉搏，悸动，脉动；搏动性 | |
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mingled
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| 混合，混入( mingle的过去式和过去分词 )； 混进，与…交往[联系] | |
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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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regained
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| 复得( regain的过去式和过去分词 )； 赢回； 重回； 复至某地 | |
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exquisite
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| adj.精美的；敏锐的；剧烈的，感觉强烈的 | |
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lengthy
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| adj.漫长的，冗长的 | |
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transparent
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| adj.明显的，无疑的；透明的 | |
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94
trifling
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| adj.微不足道的；没什么价值的 | |
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jealousy
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| n.妒忌，嫉妒，猜忌 | |
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caress
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| vt./n.爱抚，抚摸 | |
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gratitude
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| adj.感激，感谢 | |
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rosy
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| adj.美好的，乐观的，玫瑰色的 | |
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99
languor
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| n.无精力，倦怠 | |
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100
hearty
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| adj.热情友好的；衷心的；尽情的，纵情的 | |
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101
possessed
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| adj.疯狂的；拥有的，占有的 | |
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102
commonsense
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| adj.有常识的；明白事理的；注重实际的 | |
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103
modesty
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| n.谦逊，虚心，端庄，稳重，羞怯，朴素 | |
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104
dwindling
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| adj.逐渐减少的v.逐渐变少或变小( dwindle的现在分词 ) | |
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105
oblivious
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| adj.易忘的，遗忘的，忘却的，健忘的 | |
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