Upstairs, in her own room, in the peaceful, convent-like atmosphere she found there, Helene experienced a feeling of suffocation1. Her room astonished her, so calm, so secluded2, so drowsy3 did it seem with its blue velvet4 hangings, while she came to it hotly panting with the emotion which thrilled her. Was this indeed her room, this dreary5, lifeless nook, devoid6 of air? Hastily she threw open a window, and leaned out to gaze on Paris.
The rain had ceased, and the clouds were trooping off like some herd7 of monsters hurrying in disorderly array into the gloom of the horizon. A blue gap, that grew larger by degrees, had opened up above the city. But Helene, her elbows trembling on the window-rail, still breathless from her hasty ascent8, saw nothing, and merely heard her heart beating against her swelling9 breast. She drew a long breath, but it seemed to her that the spreading valley with its river, its two millions of people, its immense city, its distant hills, could not hold air enough to enable her to breathe peacefully and regularly again.
For some minutes she remained there distracted by the fever of passion which possessed10 her. It seemed as though a torrent11 of sensations and confused ideas were pouring down on her, their roar preventing her from hearing her own voice or understanding aught. There was a buzzing in her ears, and large spots of light swam slowly before her eyes. Then she suddenly found herself examining her gloved hands, and remembering that she had omitted to sew on a button that had come off the left-hand glove. And afterwards she spoke13 aloud, repeating several times, in tones that grew fainter and fainter: "I love you! I love you! oh, how I love you!"
Instinctively14 she buried her face in her hands, and pressed her fingers to her eyelids15 as though to intensify16 the darkness in which she sought to plunge17. It was a wish to annihilate18 herself, to see no more, to be utterly19 alone, girt in by the gloom of night. Her breathing grew calmer. Paris blew its mighty20 breath upon her face; she knew it lay before her, and though she had no wish to look on it, she felt full of terror at the thought of leaving the window, and of no longer having beneath her that city whose vastness lulled21 her to rest.
Ere long she grew unmindful of all around her. The love-scene and confession22, despite her efforts, again woke to life in her mind. In the inky darkness Henri appeared to her, every feature so distinct and vivid that she could perceive the nervous twitching23 of his lips. He came nearer and hung over her. And then she wildly darted24 back. But, nevertheless, she felt a burning breath on her shoulders and a voice exclaimed: "I love you! I love you!" With a mighty effort she put the phantom25 to flight, but it again took shape in the distance, and slowly swelled26 to its whilom proportions; it was Henri once more following her into the dining-room, and still murmuring: "I love you! I love you!" These words rang within her breast with the sonorous27 clang of a bell; she no longer heard anything but them, pealing28 their loudest throughout her frame. Nevertheless, she desired to reflect, and again strove to escape from the apparition29. He had spoken; never would she dare to look on his face again. The brutal30 passion of the man had tainted31 the tenderness of their love. She conjured32 up past hours, in which he had loved her without being so cruel as to say it; hours spent in the garden amidst the tranquillity34 of the budding springtime God! he had spoken--the thought clung to her so stubbornly, lowered on her in such immensity and with such weight, that the instant destruction of Paris by a thunderbolt before her eyes would have seemed a trivial matter. Her heart was rent by feelings of indignant protest and haughty36 anger, commingling37 with a secret and unconquerable pleasure, which ascended38 from her inner being and bereft39 her of her senses. He had spoken, and was speaking still, he sprang up unceasingly before her, uttering those passionate40 words: "I love you! I love you!"--words that swept into oblivion all her past life as wife and mother.
In spite of her brooding over this vision, she retained some consciousness of the vast expanse which stretched beneath her, beyond the darkness that curtained her sight. A loud rumbling41 arose, and waves of life seemed to surge up and circle around her. Echoes, odors, and even light streamed against her face, though her hands were still nervously42 pressed to it. At times sudden gleams appeared to pierce her closed eyelids, and amidst the radiance she imagined she saw monuments, steeples, and domes44 standing12 out in the diffuse45 light of dreamland. Then she lowered her hands and, opening her eyes, was dazzled. The vault46 of heaven expanded before her, and Henri had vanished.
A line of clouds, a seeming mass of crumbling47 chalk-hills, now barred the horizon far away. Across the pure, deep blue heavens overhead, merely a few light, fleecy cloudlets were slowly drifting, like a flotilla of vessels49 with full-blown sails. On the north, above Montmartre, hung a network of extreme delicacy51, fashioned as it were of pale-hued silk, and spread over a patch of sky as though for fishing in those tranquil35 waters. Westward53, however, in the direction of the slopes of Meudon, which Helene could not see, the last drops of the downpour must still have been obscuring the sun, for, though the sky above was clear, Paris remained gloomy, dismal54 beneath the vapor55 of the drying house-roofs. It was a city of uniform hue52--the bluey-grey of slate56, studded with black patches of trees--but withal very distinct, with the sharp outlines and innumberable windows of its houses. The Seine gleamed with the subdued57 brightness of old silver. The edifices58 on either bank looked as though they had been smeared59 with soot60. The Tower of St. Jacques rose up like some rust-eaten museum curio, whilst the Pantheon assumed the aspect of a gigantic catafalque above the darkened district which it overlooked. Gleams of light peeped only from the gilding61 of the dome43 of the Invalides, like lamps burning in the daytime, sad and vague amidst the crepuscular62 veil of mourning in which the city was draped. All the usual effects of distance had vanished; Paris resembled a huge yet minutely executed charcoal63 drawing, showing very vigorously through its cloudy veil, under the limpid64 heavens.
Gazing upon this dismal city, Helene reflected that she really knew nothing of Henri. She felt strong and brave now that his image no longer pursued her. A rebellious65 impulse stirred her soul to reject the mastery which this man had gained over her within a few weeks. No, she did not know him. She knew nothing of him, of his actions or his thoughts; she could not even have determined66 whether he possessed talent. Perhaps he was even more lacking in qualities of the heart than of the mind. And thus she gave way to every imagining, her heart full of bitterness, ever finding herself confronted by her ignorance, that barrier which separated her from Henri, and checked her in her efforts to know him. She knew nothing, she would never know anything. She pictured him, hissing67 out those burning words, and creating within her the one trouble which had, till now, broken in on the quiet happiness of her life. Whence had he sprung to lay her life desolate68 in this fashion? She suddenly thought that but six weeks before she had had no existence for him, and this thought was insufferable. Angels in heaven! to live no more for one another, to pass each other without recognition, perhaps never to meet again! In her despair she clasped her hands, and her eyes filled with tears.
Then Helene gazed fixedly69 on the towers of Notre-Dame in the far distance. A ray of light from between two clouds tinged70 them with gold. Her brain was heavy, as though surcharged with all the tumultuous thoughts hurtling within it. It made her suffer; she would fain have concerned herself with the sight of Paris, and have sought to regain71 her life-peace by turning on that sea of roofs the tranquil glances of past days. To think that at other times, at the same hour, the infinitude of the city--in the stillness of a lovely twilight--had lulled her into tender musing72!
At present Paris was brightening in the sunshine. After the first ray had fallen on Notre-Dame, others had followed, streaming across the city. The luminary73, dipping in the west, rent the clouds asunder74, and the various districts spread out, motly with ever-changing lights and shadows. For a time the whole of the left bank was of a leaden hue, while the right was speckled with spots of light which made the verge75 of the river resemble the skin of some huge beast of prey76. Then these resemblances varied77 and vanished at the mercy of the wind, which drove the clouds before it. Above the burnished78 gold of the housetops dark patches floated, all in the same direction and with the same gentle and silent motion. Some of them were very large, sailing along with all the majestic79 grace of an admiral's ship, and surrounded by smaller ones, preserving the regular order of a squadron in line of battle. Then one vast shadow, with a gap yawning like a serpent's mouth, trailed along, and for a while hid Paris, which it seemed ready to devour80. And when it had reached the far-off horizon, looking no larger than a worm, a gush81 of light streamed from a rift48 in a cloud, and fell into the void which it had left. The golden cascade82 could be seen descending83 first like a thread of fine sand, then swelling into a huge cone85, and raining in a continuous shower on the Champs-Elysees district, which it inundated86 with a splashing, dancing radiance. For a long time did this shower of sparks descend84, spraying continuously like a fusee.
Ah, well! this love was her fate, and Helene ceased to resist. She could battle no longer against her feelings. And in ceasing to struggle she tasted immeasurable delight. Why should she grudge87 herself happiness any longer? The memory of her past life inspired her with disgust and aversion. How had she been able to drag on that cold, dreary existence, of which she was formerly88 so proud? A vision rose before her of herself as a young girl living in the Rue33 des Petites-Maries, at Marseilles, where she had ever shivered; she saw herself a wife, her heart's blood frozen in the companionship of a big child of a husband, with little to take any interest in, apart from the cares of her household; she saw herself through every hour of her life following the same path with the same even tread, without a trouble to mar50 her peace; and now this monotony in which she had lived, her heart fast asleep, enraged89 her beyond expression. To think that she had fancied herself happy in thus following her path for thirty years, her passions silent, with naught90 but the pride of virtue91 to fill the blank in her existence. How she had cheated herself with her integrity and nice honor, which had girt her round with the empty joys of piety92! No, no; she had had enough of it; she wished to live! And an awful spirit of ridicule93 woke within her as she thought of the behests of reason. Her reason, forsooth! she felt a contemptuous pity for it; during all the years she had lived it had brought her no joy to be compared with that she had tasted during the past hour. She had denied the possibility of stumbling, she had been vain and idiotic94 enough to think that she would go on to the end without her foot once tripping against a stone. Ah, well! to-day she almost longed to fall. Oh that she might disappear, after tasting for one moment the happiness which she had never enjoyed!
Within her soul, however, a great sorrow lingered, a heart-burning and a consciousness of a gloomy blank. Then argument rose to her lips. Was she not free? In her love for Henri she deceived nobody; she could deal as she pleased with her love. Then, did not everything exculpate95 her? What had been her life for nearly two years? Her widowhood, her unrestricted liberty, her loneliness--everything, she realized, had softened96 and prepared her for love. Love must have been smouldering within her during the long evenings spent between her two old friends, the Abbe and his brother, those simple hearts whose serenity97 had lulled it to rest; it had been growing whilst she remained shut up within those narrow walls, far away from the world, and gazed on Paris rumbling noisily on the horizon; it had been growing even when she leaned from that window in the dreamy mood which she had scarce been conscious of, but which little by little had rendered her so weak. And a recollection came to her of that radiant spring morning when Paris had shone out fair and clear, as though in a glass mirror, when it had worn the pure, sunny hue of childhood, as she lazily surveyed it, stretched in her easy-chair with a book upon her knees. That morning love had first awoke--a scarcely perceptible feeling that she had been unable to define, and against which she had believed herself strongly armed. To-day she was in the same place, but devoured98 by overpowering passion, while before her eyes the dying sun illumined the city with flame. It seemed to her that one day had sufficed for all, that this was the ruddy evening following upon that limpid morning; and she imagined she could feel those fiery99 beams scorching100 her heart.
But a change had come over the sky. The sun, in its descent towards the slopes of Meudon, had just burst through the last clouds in all its splendor101. The azure102 vault was illuminated103 with glory; deep on the horizon the crumbling ridge104 of chalk clouds, blotting105 out the distant suburbs of Charenton and Choisy-le-Roi, now reared rocks of a tender pink, outlined with brilliant crimson106; the flotilla of cloudlets drifting slowly through the blue above Paris, was decked with purple sails; while the delicate network, seemingly fashioned of white silk thread, above Montmartre, was suddenly transformed into golden cord, whose meshes107 would snare108 the stars as soon as they should rise.
Beneath the flaming vault of heaven lay Paris, a mass of yellow, striped with huge shadows. On the vast square below Helene, in an orange-tinted haze109, cabs and omnibuses crossed in all directions, amidst a crowd of pedestrians110, whose swarming111 blackness was softened and irradiated by splashes of light. The students of a seminary were hurrying in serried112 ranks along the Quai de Billy, and the trail of cassocks acquired an ochraceous hue in the diffuse light. Farther away, vehicles and foot-passengers faded from view; it was only by their gleaming lamps that you were made aware of the vehicles which, one behind the other, were crossing some distant bridge. On the left the straight, lofty, pink chimneys of the Army Bakehouse were belching113 forth114 whirling clouds of flesh-tinted smoke; whilst, across the river, the beautiful elms of the Quai d'Orsay rose up in a dark mass transpierced by shafts115 of light.
The Seine, whose banks the oblique116 rays were enfilading, was rolling dancing wavelets, streaked117 with scattered118 splashes of blue, green, and yellow; but farther up the river, in lieu of this blotchy120 coloring, suggestive of an Eastern sea, the waters assumed a uniform golden hue, which became more and more dazzling. You might have thought that some ingot were pouring forth from an invisible crucible121 on the horizon, broadening out with a coruscation122 of bright colors as it gradually grew colder. And at intervals123 over this brilliant stream, the bridges, with curves growing ever more slender and delicate, threw, as it were, grey bars, till there came at last a fiery jumble124 of houses, above which rose the towers of Notre-Dame, flaring125 red like torches. Right and left alike the edifices were all aflame. The glass roof of the Palais de l'Industrie appeared like a bed of glowing embers amidst the Champs-Elysees groves126. Farther on, behind the roof of the Madeline, the huge pile of the Opera House shone out like a mass of burnished copper127; and the summits of other buildings, cupolas, and towers, the Vendome column, the church of Saint-Vincent de Paul, the tower of Saint-Jacques, and, nearer in, the pavilions of the new Louvre and the Tuileries, were crowned by a blaze, which lent them the aspect of sacrificial pyres. The dome of the Invalides was flaring with such brilliancy that you instinctively feared lest it should suddenly topple down and scatter119 burning flakes128 over the neighborhood. Beyond the irregular towers of Saint-Sulpice, the Pantheon stood out against the sky in dull splendor, like some royal palace of conflagration129 reduced to embers. Then, as the sun declined, the pyre-like edifices gradually set the whole of Paris on fire. Flashes sped over the housetops, while black smoke lingered in the valleys. Every frontage turned towards the Trocadero seemed to be red-hot, the glass of the windows glittering and emitting a shower of sparks, which darted upwards130 as though some invisible bellows131 were ever urging the huge conflagration into greater activity. Sheaves of flame were also ever rising afresh from the adjacent districts, where the streets opened, now dark and now all ablaze132. Even far over the plain, from a ruddy ember-like glow suffusing133 the destroyed faubourgs, occasional flashes of flame shot up as from some fire struggling again into life. Ere long a furnace seemed raging, all Paris burned, the heavens became yet more empurpled, and the clouds hung like so much blood over the vast city, colored red and gold.
With the ruddy tints134 falling upon her, yielding to the passion which was devouring135 her, Helene was still gazing upon Paris all ablaze, when a little hand was placed on her shoulder, and she gave a start. It was Jeanne, calling her. "Mamma! mamma!"
She turned her head, and the child went on: "At last! Didn't you hear me before? I have called you at least a dozen times."
The little girl, still in her Japanese costume, had sparkling eyes, and cheeks flushed with pleasure. She gave her mother no time for answer.
"You ran away from me nicely! Do you know, they were hunting for you everywhere? Had it not been for Pauline, who came with me to the bottom of the staircase, I shouldn't have dared to cross the road."
With a pretty gesture, she brought her face close to her mother's lips, and, without pausing, whispered the question: "Do you love me?"
Helene kissed her somewhat absently. She was amazed and impatient at her early return. Had an hour really gone by since she had fled from the ball-room? However, to satisfy the child, who seemed uneasy, she told her that she had felt rather unwell. The fresh air was doing her good; she only needed a little quietness.
"Oh! don't fear; I'm too tired," murmured Jeanne. "I am going to stop here, and be very, very good. But, mamma dear, I may talk, mayn't I?"
She nestled close to Helene, full of joy at the prospect136 of not being undressed at once. She was in ecstasies137 over her embroidered138 purple gown and green silk petticoat; and she shook her head to rattle139 the pendants hanging from the long pins thrust through her hair. At last there burst from her lips a rush of hasty words. Despite her seeming demureness140, she had seen everything, heard everything, and remembered everything; and she now made ample amends141 for her former assumed dignity, silence, and indifference142.
"Do you know, mamma, it was an old fellow with a grey beard who made Punch move his arms and legs? I saw him well enough when the curtain was drawn143 aside. Yes, and the little boy Guiraud began to cry. How stupid of him, wasn't it? They told him the policeman would come and put some water in his soup; and at last they had to carry him off, for he wouldn't stop crying. And at lunch, too, Marguerite stained her milkmaid's dress all over with jam. Her mamma wiped it off and said to her: 'Oh, you dirty girl!' She even had a lot of it in her hair. I never opened my mouth, but it did amuse me to see them all rush at the cakes! Were they not bad-mannered, mamma dear?"
She paused for a few seconds, absorbed in some reminiscence, and then asked, with a thoughtful air: "I say, mamma, did you eat any of those yellow cakes with white cream inside? Oh! they were nice! they were nice! I kept the dish beside me the whole time."
Helene was not listening to this childish chatter144. But Jeanne talked to relieve her excited brain. She launched out again, giving the minutest details about the ball, and investing each little incident with the greatest importance.
"You did not see that my waistband came undone145 just as we began dancing. A lady, whose name I don't know, pinned it up for me. So I said to her: 'Madame, I thank you very much.' But while I was dancing with Lucien the pin ran into him, and he asked me: 'What have you got in front of you that pricks147 me so?' Of course I knew nothing about it, and told him I had nothing there to prick146 him. However, Pauline came and put the pin in its proper place. Ah! but you've no idea how they pushed each other about; and one great stupid of a boy gave Sophie a blow on the back which made her fall. The Levasseur girls jumped about with their feet close together. I am pretty certain that isn't the way to dance. But the best of it all came at the end. You weren't there; so you can't know. We all took one another by the arms, and then whirled round; it was comical enough to make one die laughing. Besides, some of the big gentlemen were whirling around as well. It's true; I am not telling fibs. Why, don't you believe me, mamma dear?"
Helene's continued silence was beginning to vex148 Jeanne. She nestled closer, and gave her mother's hand a shake. But, perceiving that she drew only a few words from her, she herself, by degrees, lapsed149 into silence, into thought of the incidents of that ball of which her heart was full. Both mother and daughter now sat mutely gazing on Paris all aflame. It seemed to them yet more mysterious than ever, as it lay there illumined by blood-red clouds, like some city of an old-world tale expiating150 its lusts151 under a rain of fire.
"Did you have any round dances?" all at once asked Helene, as if wakening with a start.
"And the doctor--did he dance!"
"I should think so; he had a turn with me. He lift me up and asked me: 'Where is your mamma? where is your mamma?' and then he kissed me."
Helene unconsciously smiled. What need had she of knowing Henri well? It appeared sweeter to her not to know him--ay, never to know him well --and to greet him simply as the one whose coming she had awaited so long. Why should she feel astonished or disquieted153? At the fated hour he had met her on her life-journey. Her frank nature accepted whatever might be in store; and quietude, born of the knowledge that she loved and was beloved, fell on her mind. She told her heart that she would prove strong enough to prevent her happiness from being marred154.
But night was coming on and a chilly155 breeze arose. Jeanne, still plunged156 in reverie, began to shiver. She reclined her head on her mother's bosom157, and, as though the question were inseparably connected with her deep meditation158, she murmured a second time: "Do you love me?"
Then Helene, her face still glad with smiles, took her head within her hands and for a moment examined her face closely. Next she pressed a long kiss near her mouth, over a ruddy spot on her skin. It was there, she could divine it, that Henri had kissed the child!
The gloomy ridge of the Meudon hills was already partially159 concealing160 the disc of the sun. Over Paris the slanting161 beams of light had yet lengthened162. The shadow cast by the dome of the Invalides--increased to stupendous proportions--covered the whole of the Saint-Germain district; while the Opera-House, the Saint-Jacques tower, the columns and the steeples, threw streaks163 of darkness over the right bank dwellings164. The lines of house-fronts, the yawning streets, the islands of roofs, were burning with a more sullen165 glow. The flashes of fire died away in the darkening windows, as though the houses were reduced to embers. Distant bells rang out; a rumbling noise fell on the ears, and then subsided166. With the approach of night the expanse of sky grew more vast, spreading a vault of violet, streaked with gold and purple, above the ruddy city. But all at once the conflagration flared167 afresh with formidable intensity168, a last great flame shot up from Paris, illumining its entire expanse, and even its hitherto hidden suburbs. Then it seemed as if a grey, ashy dust were falling; and though the clustering districts remained erect169, they wore the gloomy, unsubstantial aspect of coals which had ceased to burn.
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1
suffocation
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| n.窒息 | |
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2
secluded
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| adj.与世隔绝的；隐退的；偏僻的v.使隔开，使隐退( seclude的过去式和过去分词) | |
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3
drowsy
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| adj.昏昏欲睡的，令人发困的 | |
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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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5
dreary
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| adj.令人沮丧的，沉闷的，单调乏味的 | |
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6
devoid
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| adj.全无的，缺乏的 | |
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7
herd
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| n.兽群，牧群；vt.使集中，把…赶在一起 | |
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8
ascent
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| n.(声望或地位)提高；上升，升高；登高 | |
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swelling
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| n.肿胀 | |
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10
possessed
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| adj.疯狂的；拥有的，占有的 | |
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torrent
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| n.激流，洪流；爆发，(话语等的)连发 | |
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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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13
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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14
instinctively
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| adv.本能地 | |
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15
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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16
intensify
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| vt.加强；变强；加剧 | |
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17
plunge
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| v.跳入，(使)投入，(使)陷入；猛冲 | |
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18
annihilate
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| v.使无效；毁灭；取消 | |
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utterly
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| adv.完全地，绝对地 | |
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mighty
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| adj.强有力的；巨大的 | |
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21
lulled
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| vt.使镇静，使安静（lull的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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22
confession
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| n.自白，供认，承认 | |
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twitching
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| n.颤搐 | |
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darted
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| v.投掷，投射( dart的过去式和过去分词 )；向前冲，飞奔 | |
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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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26
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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27
sonorous
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| adj.响亮的，回响的；adv.圆润低沉地；感人地；n.感人，堂皇 | |
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28
pealing
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| v.（使）（钟等）鸣响，（雷等）发出隆隆声( peal的现在分词 ) | |
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apparition
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| n.幽灵，神奇的现象 | |
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brutal
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| adj.残忍的，野蛮的，不讲理的 | |
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31
tainted
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| adj.腐坏的；污染的；沾污的；感染的v.使变质( taint的过去式和过去分词 )；使污染；败坏；被污染，腐坏，败坏 | |
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32
conjured
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| 用魔术变出( conjure的过去式和过去分词 )； 祈求，恳求； 变戏法； （变魔术般地） 使…出现 | |
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33
rue
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| n.懊悔，芸香，后悔；v.后悔，悲伤，懊悔 | |
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tranquillity
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| n. 平静, 安静 | |
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tranquil
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| adj. 安静的, 宁静的, 稳定的, 不变的 | |
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36
haughty
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| adj.傲慢的，高傲的 | |
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37
commingling
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| v.混合，掺和，合并( commingle的现在分词 ) | |
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38
ascended
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| v.上升，攀登( ascend的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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39
bereft
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| adj.被剥夺的 | |
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40
passionate
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| adj.热情的，热烈的，激昂的，易动情的，易怒的，性情暴躁的 | |
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41
rumbling
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| n. 隆隆声, 辘辘声 adj. 隆隆响的 动词rumble的现在分词 | |
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42
nervously
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| adv.神情激动地，不安地 | |
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43
dome
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| n.圆屋顶，拱顶 | |
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44
domes
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| n.圆屋顶( dome的名词复数 )；像圆屋顶一样的东西；圆顶体育场 | |
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45
diffuse
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| v.扩散；传播；adj.冗长的；四散的，弥漫的 | |
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46
vault
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| n.拱形圆顶，地窖，地下室 | |
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47
crumbling
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| adj.摇摇欲坠的 | |
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48
rift
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| n.裂口，隙缝，切口；v.裂开，割开，渗入 | |
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49
vessels
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| n.血管( vessel的名词复数 )；船；容器；（具有特殊品质或接受特殊品质的）人 | |
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50
mar
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| vt.破坏，毁坏，弄糟 | |
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51
delicacy
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| n.精致，细微，微妙，精良；美味，佳肴 | |
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52
hue
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| n.色度；色调；样子 | |
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53
westward
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| n.西方，西部；adj.西方的，向西的；adv.向西 | |
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54
dismal
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| adj.阴沉的，凄凉的，令人忧郁的，差劲的 | |
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55
vapor
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| n.蒸汽，雾气 | |
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56
slate
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| n.板岩，石板，石片，石板色，候选人名单；adj.暗蓝灰色的，含板岩的；vt.用石板覆盖，痛打，提名，预订 | |
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57
subdued
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| adj. 屈服的，柔和的，减弱的 动词subdue的过去式和过去分词 | |
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58
edifices
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| n.大建筑物( edifice的名词复数 ) | |
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59
smeared
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| 弄脏； 玷污； 涂抹； 擦上 | |
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60
soot
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| n.煤烟，烟尘；vt.熏以煤烟 | |
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61
gilding
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| n.贴金箔，镀金 | |
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62
crepuscular
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| adj.晨曦的；黄昏的；昏暗的 | |
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63
charcoal
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| n.炭，木炭，生物炭 | |
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64
limpid
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| adj.清澈的，透明的 | |
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65
rebellious
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| adj.造反的，反抗的，难控制的 | |
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66
determined
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| adj.坚定的；有决心的 | |
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67
hissing
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| n. 发嘶嘶声, 蔑视 动词hiss的现在分词形式 | |
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68
desolate
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| adj.荒凉的，荒芜的；孤独的，凄凉的；v.使荒芜，使孤寂 | |
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69
fixedly
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| adv.固定地；不屈地，坚定不移地 | |
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70
tinged
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| v.（使）发丁丁声( ting的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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71
regain
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| vt.重新获得，收复，恢复 | |
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72
musing
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| n. 沉思，冥想 adj. 沉思的, 冥想的 动词muse的现在分词形式 | |
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73
luminary
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| n.名人，天体 | |
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74
asunder
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| adj.分离的，化为碎片 | |
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75
verge
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| n.边，边缘；v.接近，濒临 | |
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76
prey
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| n.被掠食者，牺牲者，掠食；v.捕食，掠夺，折磨 | |
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77
varied
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| adj.多样的，多变化的 | |
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78
burnished
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| adj.抛光的，光亮的v.擦亮（金属等），磨光( burnish的过去式和过去分词 )；被擦亮，磨光 | |
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79
majestic
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| adj.雄伟的，壮丽的，庄严的，威严的，崇高的 | |
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80
devour
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| v.吞没；贪婪地注视或谛听，贪读；使着迷 | |
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81
gush
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| v.喷，涌；滔滔不绝(说话)；n.喷，涌流；迸发 | |
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82
cascade
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| n.小瀑布，喷流；层叠；vi.成瀑布落下 | |
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83
descending
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| n. 下行 adj. 下降的 | |
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84
descend
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| vt./vi.传下来，下来，下降 | |
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85
cone
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| n.圆锥体，圆锥形东西，球果 | |
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86
inundated
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| v.淹没( inundate的过去式和过去分词 )；（洪水般地）涌来；充满；给予或交予（太多事物）使难以应付 | |
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87
grudge
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| n.不满，怨恨，妒嫉；vt.勉强给，不情愿做 | |
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88
formerly
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| adv.从前，以前 | |
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89
enraged
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| 使暴怒( enrage的过去式和过去分词 )； 歜； 激愤 | |
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90
naught
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| n.无，零 [=nought] | |
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91
virtue
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| n.德行，美德；贞操；优点；功效，效力 | |
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92
piety
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| n.虔诚，虔敬 | |
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93
ridicule
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| v.讥讽，挖苦；n.嘲弄 | |
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94
idiotic
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| adj.白痴的 | |
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95
exculpate
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| v.开脱，使无罪 | |
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96
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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97
serenity
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| n.宁静，沉着，晴朗 | |
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98
devoured
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| 吞没( devour的过去式和过去分词 )； 耗尽； 津津有味地看； 狼吞虎咽地吃光 | |
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99
fiery
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| adj.燃烧着的，火红的；暴躁的；激烈的 | |
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100
scorching
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| adj. 灼热的 | |
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101
splendor
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| n.光彩；壮丽，华丽；显赫，辉煌 | |
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102
azure
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| adj.天蓝色的，蔚蓝色的 | |
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103
illuminated
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| adj.被照明的；受启迪的 | |
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104
ridge
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| n.山脊；鼻梁；分水岭 | |
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105
blotting
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| 吸墨水纸 | |
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106
crimson
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| n./adj.深(绯)红色(的)；vi.脸变绯红色 | |
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107
meshes
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| 网孔( mesh的名词复数 )； 网状物； 陷阱； 困境 | |
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108
snare
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| n.陷阱，诱惑，圈套；（去除息肉或者肿瘤的）勒除器；响弦，小军鼓；vt.以陷阱捕获，诱惑 | |
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109
haze
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| n.霾，烟雾；懵懂，迷糊；vi.(over)变模糊 | |
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110
pedestrians
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| n.步行者( pedestrian的名词复数 ) | |
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111
swarming
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| 密集( swarm的现在分词 )； 云集； 成群地移动； 蜜蜂或其他飞行昆虫成群地飞来飞去 | |
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112
serried
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| adj.拥挤的；密集的 | |
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113
belching
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| n. 喷出，打嗝 动词belch的现在分词形式 | |
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114
forth
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| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
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115
shafts
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| n.轴( shaft的名词复数 )；（箭、高尔夫球棒等的）杆；通风井；一阵（疼痛、害怕等） | |
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116
oblique
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| adj.斜的，倾斜的，无诚意的，不坦率的 | |
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117
streaked
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| adj.有条斑纹的，不安的v.快速移动( streak的过去式和过去分词 )；使布满条纹 | |
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118
scattered
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| adj.分散的，稀疏的；散步的；疏疏落落的 | |
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119
scatter
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| vt.撒，驱散，散开；散布/播；vi.分散，消散 | |
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120
blotchy
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| adj.有斑点的，有污渍的；斑污 | |
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121
crucible
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| n.坩锅，严酷的考验 | |
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122
coruscation
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| n.闪光，焕发 | |
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123
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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124
jumble
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| vt.使混乱，混杂；n.混乱；杂乱的一堆 | |
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125
flaring
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| a.火焰摇曳的，过份艳丽的 | |
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126
groves
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| 树丛，小树林( grove的名词复数 ) | |
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127
copper
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| n.铜；铜币；铜器；adj.铜(制)的；(紫)铜色的 | |
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128
flakes
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| 小薄片( flake的名词复数 )； （尤指）碎片； 雪花； 古怪的人 | |
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129
conflagration
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| n.建筑物或森林大火 | |
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130
upwards
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| adv.向上，在更高处...以上 | |
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131
bellows
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| n.风箱；发出吼叫声，咆哮（尤指因痛苦）( bellow的名词复数 )；（愤怒地）说出（某事），大叫v.发出吼叫声，咆哮（尤指因痛苦）( bellow的第三人称单数 )；（愤怒地）说出（某事），大叫 | |
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132
ablaze
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| adj.着火的，燃烧的；闪耀的，灯火辉煌的 | |
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133
suffusing
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| v.（指颜色、水气等）弥漫于，布满( suffuse的现在分词 ) | |
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134
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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135
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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136
prospect
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| n.前景，前途；景色，视野 | |
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137
ecstasies
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| 狂喜( ecstasy的名词复数 )； 出神； 入迷； 迷幻药 | |
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138
embroidered
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| adj．绣花的 | |
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139
rattle
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| v.飞奔，碰响；激怒；n.碰撞声；拨浪鼓 | |
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140
demureness
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| n.demure（拘谨的，端庄的）的变形 | |
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141
amends
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| n. 赔偿 | |
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142
indifference
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| n.不感兴趣，不关心，冷淡，不在乎 | |
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143
drawn
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| v.拖，拉，拔出；adj.憔悴的，紧张的 | |
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144
chatter
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| vi.／n.喋喋不休；短促尖叫；(牙齿)打战 | |
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145
undone
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| a.未做完的，未完成的 | |
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146
prick
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| v.刺伤，刺痛，刺孔；n.刺伤，刺痛 | |
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147
pricks
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| 刺痛( prick的名词复数 )； 刺孔； 刺痕； 植物的刺 | |
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148
vex
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| vt.使烦恼，使苦恼 | |
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149
lapsed
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| adj.流失的，堕落的v.退步( lapse的过去式和过去分词 )；陷入；倒退；丧失 | |
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150
expiating
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| v.为（所犯罪过）接受惩罚，赎（罪）( expiate的现在分词 ) | |
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151
lusts
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| 贪求（lust的第三人称单数形式） | |
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152
engrossed
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| adj.全神贯注的 | |
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153
disquieted
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| v.使不安，使忧虑，使烦恼( disquiet的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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154
marred
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| adj. 被损毁, 污损的 | |
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155
chilly
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| adj.凉快的，寒冷的 | |
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156
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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157
bosom
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| n.胸，胸部；胸怀；内心；adj.亲密的 | |
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158
meditation
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| n.熟虑，（尤指宗教的）默想，沉思，（pl.）冥想录 | |
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159
partially
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| adv.部分地，从某些方面讲 | |
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160
concealing
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| v.隐藏，隐瞒，遮住( conceal的现在分词 ) | |
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161
slanting
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| 倾斜的，歪斜的 | |
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162
lengthened
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| （时间或空间）延长，伸长( lengthen的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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163
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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164
dwellings
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| n.住处，处所( dwelling的名词复数 ) | |
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165
sullen
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| adj.愠怒的，闷闷不乐的，(天气等)阴沉的 | |
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166
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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167
Flared
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| adj. 端部张开的, 爆发的, 加宽的, 漏斗式的 动词flare的过去式和过去分词 | |
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168
intensity
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| n.强烈，剧烈；强度；烈度 | |
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169
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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