“I do not want to seem inquisitive11,” I said to the landlord, as he was fastening up the bar, which, by the way, was the salle à manger and general sitting-room—“I do not want to seem inquisitive, but your friend Mr. Jaffrey dropped a remark this morning at breakfast which—which was not altogether clear to me.”
“About Mehetabel?” asked Mr. Sewell, uneasily.
“Yes.”
“Well, I wish he would n't!”
“He was friendly enough in the course of conversation to hint to me that he had not married the young woman, and seemed to regret it.”
“No, he did n't marry Mehetabel.”
“May I inquire why he did n't marry Mehetabel?”
“Never asked her. Might have married the girl forty times. Old Elkins's daughter, over at K———. She 'd have had him quick enough. Seven years, off and on, he kept company with Mehetabel, and then she died.”
“And he never asked her?”
“He shilly-shallied. Perhaps he did n't think of it. When she was dead and gone, then Silas was struck all of a heap—and that's all about it.”
Obviously Mr. Sewell did not intend to tell me anything more, and obviously there was more to tell. The topic was plainly disagreeable to him for some reason or other, and that unknown reason of course piqued12 my curiosity.
As I was absent from dinner and supper that day, I did not meet Mr. Jaffrey again until the following morning at breakfast. He had recovered his bird-like manner, and was full of a mysterious assassination13 that had just taken place in New York, all the thrilling details of which were at his fingers' ends. It was at once comical and sad to see this harmless old gentleman with his naïve, benevolent14 countenance15, and his thin hair flaming up in a semicircle, like the footlights at a theatre, revelling16 in the intricacies of the unmentionable deed.
“You come up to my room to-night,” he cried, with horrid17 glee, “and I 'll give you my theory of the murder. I 'll make it as clear as day to you that it was the detective himself who fired the three pistol-shots.”
It was not so much the desire to have this point elucidated18 as to make a closer study of Mr. Jaffrey that led me to accept his invitation. Mr. Jaffrey's bedroom was in an L of the building, and was in no way noticeable except for the numerous files of newspapers neatly19 arranged against the blank spaces of the walls, and a huge pile of old magazines which stood in one corner, reaching nearly up to the ceiling, and threatening to topple over each instant, like the Leaning Tower at Pisa. There were green paper shades at the windows, some faded chintz valances about the bed, and two or three easy-chairs covered with chintz. On a black-walnut shelf between the windows lay a choice collection of meerschaum and brier-wood pipes.
Filling one of the chocolate-colored bowls for me and another for himself, Mr. Jaffrey began prattling20; but not about the murder, which appeared to have flown out of his mind. In fact, I do not remember that the topic was even touched upon, either then or afterwards.
“Cosey nest this,” said Mr. Jaffrey, glancing complacently21 over the apartment. “What is more cheerful, now, in the fall of the year, than an open wood-fire? Do you hear those little chirps22 and twitters coming out of that piece of apple-wood? Those are the ghosts of the robins23 and bluebirds that sang upon the bough24 when it was in blossom last spring. In summer whole flocks of them come fluttering about the fruit-trees under the window: so I have singing birds all the year round. I take it very easy here, I can tell you, summer and winter. Not much society. Tobias is not, perhaps, what one would term a great intellectual force, but he means well. He 's a realist—believes in coming down to what he calls 'the hard pan;' but his heart is in the right place, and he 's very kind to me. The wisest thing I ever did in my life was to sell out my grain business over at K———, thirteen years ago, and settle down at the Corners. When a man has made a competency, what does he want more? Besides, at that time an event occurred which destroyed any ambition I may have had. Mehetabel died.” “The lady you were engaged to?” “N-o, not precisely25 engaged. I think it was quite understood between us, though nothing had been said on the subject. Typhoid,” added Mr. Jaffrey, in a low voice.
For several minutes he smoked in silence, a vague, troubled look playing over his countenance. Presently this passed away, and he fixed26 his gray eyes speculatively27 upon my face.
“If I had married Mehetabel,” said Mr. Jaffrey, slowly, and then he hesitated. I blew a ring of smoke into the air, and, resting my pipe on my knee, dropped into an attitude of attention. “If I had married Mehetabel, you know, we should have had—ahem!—a family.”
“A Boy!” exclaimed Mr. Jaffrey, explosively.
“By all means, certainly, a son.”
“Great trouble about naming the boy. Mehetabel's family want him named Elkanah Elkins, after her grandfather; I want him named Andrew Jackson. We compromise by christening him Elkanah Elkins Andrew Jackson Jaffrey. Rather a long name for such a short little fellow,” said Mr. Jaffrey, musingly29.
“Andy is n't a bad nickname,” I suggested.
“Not at all. We call him Andy, in the family. Somewhat fractious at first—colic and things. I suppose it is right, or it would n't be so; but the usefulness of measles30, mumps31, croup, whooping-cough, scarlatina, and fits is not clear to the parental32 eye. I wish Andy would be a model infant, and dodge33 the whole lot.”
This supposititious child, born within the last few minutes, was plainly assuming the proportions of a reality to Mr. Jaffrey. I began to feel a little uncomfortable. I am, as I have said, a civil engineer, and it is not strictly34 in my line to assist at the births of infants, imaginary or otherwise. I pulled away vigorously at the pipe, and said nothing.
“What large blue eyes he has,” resumed Mr. Jaffrey, after a pause; “just like Hetty's; and the fair hair, too, like hers. How oddly certain distinctive35 features are handed down in families! Sometimes a mouth, sometimes a turn of the eyebrow36. Wicked little boys over at K——— have now and then derisively37 advised me to follow my nose. It would be an interesting thing to do. I should find my nose flying about the world, turning up unexpectedly here and there, dodging38 this branch of the family and re-appearing in that, now jumping over one greatgrandchild to fasten itself upon another, and never losing its individuality. Look at Andy. There 's Elkanah Elkins's chin to the life. Andy's chin is probably older than the Pyramids. Poor little thing,” he cried, with sudden indescribable tenderness, “to lose his mother so early!” And Mr. Jaf-frey's head sunk upon his breast, and his shoulders slanted39 forward, as if he were actually bending over the cradle of the child. The whole gesture and attitude was so natural that it startled me. The pipe slipped from my fingers and fell to the floor.
“Hush!” whispered Mr. Jaffrey, with a deprecating motion of his hand. “Andy's asleep!”
He rose softly from the chair and, walking across the room on tiptoe, drew down the shade at the window through which the moonlight was streaming. Then he returned to his seat, and remained gazing with half-closed eyes into the dropping embers.
I refilled my pipe and smoked in profound silence, wondering what would come next.
But nothing came next. Mr. Jaffrey had fallen into so brown a study that, a quarter of an hour afterwards, when I wished him good-night and withdrew, I do not think he noticed my departure.
I am not what is called a man of imagination; it is my habit to exclude most things not capable of mathematical demonstration40; but I am not without a certain psychological insight, and I think I understood Mr. Jaffrey's case. I could easily understand how a man with an unhealthy, sensitive nature, overwhelmed by sudden calamity41, might take refuge in some forlorn place like this old tavern42, and dream his life away. To such a man—brooding forever on what might have been and dwelling43 wholly in the realm of his fancies—the actual world might indeed become as a dream, and nothing seem real but his illusions. I dare say that thirteen years of Bayley's Four-Corners would have its effect upon me; though instead of conjuring44 up golden-haired children of the Madonna, I should probably see gnomes45 and kobolds, and goblins engaged in hoisting46 false signals and misplacing switches for midnight express trains.
“No doubt,” I said to myself that night, as I lay in bed, thinking over the matter, “this once possible but now impossible child is a great comfort to the old gentleman—a greater comfort, perhaps, than a real son would be. Maybe Andy will vanish with the shades and mists of night, he's such an unsubstantial infant; but if he does n't, and Mr. Jaffrey finds pleasure in talking to me about his son, I shall humor the old fellow. It would n't be a Christian47 act to knock over his harmless fancy.”
I was very impatient to see if Mr. Jaffrey's illusion would stand the test of daylight. It did. Elkanah Elkins Andrew Jackson Jaffrey was, so to speak, alive and kicking the next morning. On taking his seat at the breakfast-table, Mr. Jaffrey whispered to me that Andy had had a comfortable night.
“Silas!” said Mr. Sewell, sharply, “what are you whispering about?”
Mr. Sewell was in an ill-humor; perhaps he was jealous because I had passed the evening in Mr. Jaffrey's room; but surely Mr. Sewell could not expect his boarders to go to bed at eight o'clock every night, as he did. From time to time during the meal Mr. Sewell regarded me unkindly out of the corner of his eye, and in helping48 me to the parsnips he poniarded them with quite a suggestive air. All this, however, did not prevent me from repairing to the door of Mr. Jaffrey's snuggery when night came.
“Well, Mr. Jaffrey, how 's Andy this evening?”
“Got a tooth!” cried Mr. Jaffrey, vivaciously49.
“No!”
It was on the tip of my tongue to express surprise that an infant a day old should cut a tooth, when I suddenly recollected51 that Richard III. was born with teeth. Feeling myself to be on unfamiliar ground, I suppressed my criticism. It was well I did so, for in the next breath I was advised that half a year had elapsed since the previous evening.
“Andy 's had a hard six months of it,” said Mr. Jaffrey, with the well-known narrative52 air of fathers. “We 've brought him up by hand. His grandfather, by the way, was brought up by the bottle”—and brought down by it, too, I added mentally, recalling Mr. Sewell's account of the old gentleman's tragic53 end.
Mr. Jaffrey then went on to give me a history of Andy's first six months, omitting no detail however insignificant54 or irrelevant55. This history I would in turn inflict56 upon the reader, if I were only certain that he is one of those dreadful parents who, under the aegis57 of friendship, bore you at a streets corner with that remarkable58 thing which Freddy said the other day, and insist on singing to you, at an evening parly, the Iliad of Tommy's woes59.
But to inflict this enfantillage upon the unmarried reader would be an act of wanton cruelty. So I pass over that part of Andy's biography, and, for the same reason, make no record of the next four or five interviews I had with Mr. Jaffrey. It will be sufficient to state that Andy glided60 from extreme infancy61 to early youth with astonishing celerity—at the rate of one year per night, if I remember correctly; and—must I confess it?—before the week came to an end, this invisible hobgoblin of a boy was only little less of a reality to me than to Mr. Jaffrey.
At first I had lent myself to the old dreamer's whim62 with a keen perception of the humor of the thing; but by and by I found that I was talking and thinking of Miss Mehetabel's son as though he were a veritable personage. Mr. Jafifrey spoke63 of the child with such an air of conviction!—as if Andy were playing among his toys in the next room, or making mud-pies down in the yard. In these conversations, it should be observed, the child was never supposed to be present, except on that single occasion when Mr. Jafifrey leaned over the cradle. After one of our séances I would lie awake until the small hours, thinking of the boy, and then fall asleep only to have indigestible dreams about him. Through the day, and sometimes in the midst of complicated calculations, I would catch myself wondering what Andy was up to now! There was no shaking him off; he became an inseparable nightmare to me; and I felt that if I remained much longer at Bayley's Four-Corners I should turn into just such another bald-headed, mild-eyed visionary as Silas Jaffrey.
Then the tavern was a grewsome old shell any way, full of unaccountable noises after dark—rustlings of garments along unfrequented passages, and stealthy footfalls in unoccupied chambers66 overhead. I never knew of an old house without these mysterious noises. Next to my bedroom was a musty, dismantled67 apartment, in one corner of which, leaning against the wainscot, was a crippled mangle68, with its iron crank tilted69 in the air like the elbow of the late Mr. Clem Jaffrey. Sometimes,
“In the dead vast and middle of the night,”
I used to hear sounds as if some one were turning that rusty70 crank on the sly. This occurred only on particularly cold nights, and I conceived the uncomfortable idea that it was the thin family ghosts, from the neglected graveyard71 in the cornfield, keeping themselves warm by running each other through the mangle. There was a haunted air about the whole place that made it easy for me to believe in the existence of a phantasm like Miss Mehetabel's son, who, after all, was less unearthly than Mr. Jaffrey himself, and seemed more properly an inhabitant of this globe than the toothless ogre who kept the inn, not to mention the silent Witch of Endor that cooked our meals for us over the bar-room fire.
In spite of the scowls72 and winks74 bestowed75 upon me by Mr. Sewell, who let slip no opportunity to testify his disapprobation of the intimacy76, Mr. Jaffrey and I spent all our evenings together—those long autumnal evenings, through the length of which he talked about the boy, laying out his path in life and hedging the path with roses. He should be sent to the High School at Portsmouth, and then to college; he should be educated like a gentleman, Andy.
“When the old man dies,” remarked Mr. Jaffrey one night, rubbing his hands gleefully, as if it were a great joke, “Andy will find that the old man has left him a pretty plum.”
“What do you think of having Andy enter West Point, when he 's old enough?” said Mr. Jaffrey on another occasion. “He need n't necessarily go into the army when he graduates; he can become a civil engineer.”
This was a stroke of flattery so delicate and indirect that I could accept it without immodesty.
There had lately sprung up on the corner of Mr. Jaffrey's bureau a small tin house, Gothic in architecture and pink in color, with a slit77 in the roof, and the word Bank painted on one façade. Several times in the course of an evening Mr. Jaffrey would rise from his chair without interrupting the conversation, and gravely drop a nickel into the scuttle78 of the bank. It was pleasant to observe the solemnity of his countenance as he approached the edifice79, and the air of triumph with which he resumed his seat by the fireplace. One night I missed the tin bank. It had disappeared, deposits and all, like a real bank. Evidently there had been a defalcation80 on rather a large scale. I strongly suspected that Mr. Sewell was at the bottom of it, but my suspicion was not shared by Mr. Jaffrey, who, remarking my glance at the bureau, became suddenly depressed81. “I 'm afraid,” he said, “that I have failed to instil82 into Andrew those principles of integrity which—which”—and the old gentleman quite broke down.
Andy was now eight or nine years old, and for some time past, if the truth must be told, had given Mr. Jaffrey no inconsiderable trouble; what with his impishness and his illnesses, the boy led the pair of us a lively dance. I shall not soon forget the anxiety of Mr. Jaffrey the night Andy had the scarlet-fever—an anxiety which so infected me that I actually returned to the tavern the following afternoon earlier than usual, dreading83 to hear that the little spectre was dead, and greatly relieved on meeting Mr. Jaffrey at the door-step with his face wreathed in smiles. When I spoke to him of Andy, I was made aware that I was inquiring into a case of scarlet-fever that had occurred the year before!
It was at this time, towards the end of my second week at Greenton, that I noticed what was probably not a new trait—Mr. Jaffrey's curious sensitiveness to atmospherical84 changes. He was as sensitive as a barometer85. The approach of a storm sent his mercury down instantly. When the weather was fair he was hopeful and sunny, and Andy's prospects86 were brilliant. When the weather was overcast87 and threatening he grew restless and despondent88, and was afraid that the boy was not going to turn out well.
On the Saturday previous to my departure, which had been fixed for Monday, it rained heavily all the afternoon, and that night Mr. Jaffrey was in an unusually excitable and unhappy frame of mind. His mercury was very low indeed.
“That boy is going to the dogs just as fast as he can go,” said Mr. Jaffrey, with a woful face. “I can't do anything with him.”
“He'll come out all right, Mr. Jaffrey. Boys will be boys. I would not give a snap for a lad without animal spirits.”
“But animal spirits,” said Mr. Jaffrey sententiously, “should n't saw off the legs of the piano in Tobias's best parlor89. I don't know what Tobias will say when he finds it out.”
“What! has Andy sawed off the legs of the old spinet91?” I returned, laughing. “Worse than that.” “Played upon it, then!” “No, sir. He has lied to me!” “I can't believe that of Andy.” “Lied to me, sir,” repeated Mr. Jaffrey, severely92. “He pledged me his word of honor that he would give over his climbing. The way that boy climbs sends a chill down my spine90. This morning, notwithstanding his solemn promise, he shinned up the lightning-rod attached to the extension, and sat astride the ridge-pole. I saw him, and he denied it! When a boy you have caressed93 and indulged and lavished94 pocket-money on lies to you and will climb, then there's nothing more to be said. He's a lost child.” “You take too dark a view of it, Mr. Jaffrey. Training and education are bound to tell in the end, and he has been well brought up.”
“But I did n't bring him up on a lightning-rod, did I? If he is ever going to know how to behave, he ought to know now. To-morrow he will be eleven years old.”
The reflection came to me that if Andy had not been brought up by the rod, he had certainly been brought up by the lightning. He was eleven years old in two weeks!
I essayed, with that perspicacious95 wisdom which seems to be the peculiar96 property of bachelors and elderly maiden97 ladies, to tranquillize Mr. Jaffrey's mind, and to give him some practical hints on the management of youth.
“Spank him,” I suggested at last.
“I will!” said the old gentleman.
“And you 'd better do it at once!” I added, as it flashed upon me that in six months Andy would be a hundred and forty-three years old!—an age at which parental discipline would have to be relaxed.
The next morning. Sunday, the rain came down as if determined99 to drive the quicksilver entirely100 out of my poor friend. Mr. Jaffrey sat bolt upright at the breakfast-table, looking as woe-begone as a bust101 of Dante, and retired102 to his chamber65 the moment the meal was finished. As the day advanced, the wind veered103 round to the northeast, and settled itself down to work. It was not pleasant to think, and I tried not to think, what Mr. Jaffrey's condition would be if the weather did not mend its manners by noon; but so far from clearing off at noon, the storm increased in violence, and as night set in the wind whistled in a spiteful falsetto key, and the rain lashed98 the old tavern as if it were a balky horse that refused to move on. The windows rattled104 in the worm-eaten frames, and the doors of remote rooms, where nobody ever went, slammed to in the maddest way. Now and then the tornado105, sweeping106 down the side of Mount Agamenticus, bowled across the open country, and struck the ancient hostelry point-blank.
Mr. Jaffrey did not appear at supper. I knew that he was expecting me to come to his room as usual, and I turned over in my mind a dozen plans to evade107 seeing him that night. The landlord sat at the opposite side of the chimney-place, with his eye upon me. I fancy he was aware of the effect of this storm on his other boarder, for at intervals, as the wind hurled108 itself against the exposed gable, threatening to burst in the windows, Mr. Sewell tipped me an atrocious wink73, and displayed his gums in a way he had not done since the morning after my arrival at Greenton. I wondered if he suspected anything about Andy. There had been odd times during the past week when I felt convinced that the existence of Miss Mehetabel's son was no secret to Mr. Sewell.
In deference109 to the gale110, the landlord sat up half an hour later than was his custom. At half-past eight he went to bed, remarking that he thought the old pile would stand till morning.
He had been absent only a few minutes when I heard a rustling64 at the door. I looked up, and beheld111 Mr. Jaffrey standing on the threshold, with his dress in disorder112, his scant113 hair flying, and the wildest expression on his face.
“He's gone!” cried Mr. Jaffrey.
“Who? Sewell? Yes, he just went to bed.”
“No, not Tobias—the boy!”
“What, run away?”
“No—he is dead! He has fallen from a step-ladder in the red chamber and broken his neck!”
Mr. Jaffrey threw up his hands with a gesture of despair, and disappeared. I followed him through the hall, saw him go into his own apartment, and heard the bolt of the door drawn114 to. Then I returned to the bar-room, and sat for an hour or two in the ruddy glow of the fire, brooding over the strange experience of the last fortnight.
On my way to bed I paused at Mr. Jaf-frey's door, and, in a lull115 of the storm, the measured respiration116 within told me that the old gentleman was sleeping peacefully.
Slumber117 was coy with me that night. I lay listening to the soughing of the wind, and thinking of Mr. Jaffrey's illusion. It had amused me at first with its grotesqueness118; but now the poor little phantom119 was dead, I was conscious that there had been something pathetic in it all along. Shortly after midnight the wind sunk down, coming and going fainter and fainter, floating around the eaves of the tavern with an undulating, murmurous120 sound, as if it were turning itself into soft wings to bear away the spirit of a little child.
Perhaps nothing that happened during my stay at Bayley's Four-Corners took me so completely by surprise as Mr. Jaffrey's radiant countenance the next morning. The morning itself was not fresher or sunnier. His round face literally121 shone with geniality122 and happiness. His eyes twinkled like diamonds, and the magnetic light of his hair was turned on full. He came into my room while I was packing my valise. He chirped123, and prattled124, and carolled, and was sorry I was going away—but never a word about Andy. However, the boy had probably been dead several years then!
The open wagon125 that was to carry me to the station stood at the door; Mr. Sewell was placing my case of instruments under the seat, and Mr. Jaffrey had gone up to his room to get me a certain newspaper containing an account of a remarkable shipwreck126 on the Auckland Islands. I took the opportunity to thank Mr. Sewell for his courtesies to me, and to express my regret at leaving him and Mr. Jaffrey.
“I have become very much attached to Mr. Jaffrey,” I said; “he is a most interesting person; but that hypothetical boy of his, that son of Miss Mehetabel's”—
“Yes, I know!” interrupted Mr. Sewell, testily127. “Fell off a step-ladder and broke his dratted neck. Eleven year old, was n't he? Always does, jest at that point. Next week Silas will begin the whole thing over again, if he can get anybody to listen to him.”
Mr. Sewell glanced cautiously over his shoulder, and, tapping himself significantly on the forehead, said in a low voice,
“Room To Let—Unfurnished!”
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1
mosaics
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| n.马赛克( mosaic的名词复数 )；镶嵌；镶嵌工艺；镶嵌图案 | |
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daggers
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| 匕首，短剑( dagger的名词复数 ) | |
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bibliophile
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| n.爱书者；藏书家 | |
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numismatist
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| n.钱币收藏家 | |
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forth
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| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
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unearthed
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| 出土的（考古） | |
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specimens
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| n.样品( specimen的名词复数 )；范例；（化验的）抽样；某种类型的人 | |
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instinctively
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| adv.本能地 | |
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unfamiliar
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| adj.陌生的，不熟悉的 | |
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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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inquisitive
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| adj.求知欲强的，好奇的，好寻根究底的 | |
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piqued
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| v.伤害…的自尊心( pique的过去式和过去分词 )；激起（好奇心） | |
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assassination
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| n.暗杀；暗杀事件 | |
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benevolent
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| adj.仁慈的，乐善好施的 | |
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countenance
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| n.脸色，面容；面部表情；vt.支持，赞同 | |
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revelling
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| v.作乐( revel的现在分词 )；狂欢；着迷；陶醉 | |
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horrid
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| adj.可怕的；令人惊恐的；恐怖的；极讨厌的 | |
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elucidated
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| v.阐明，解释( elucidate的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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neatly
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| adv.整洁地，干净地，灵巧地，熟练地 | |
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prattling
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| v.（小孩般）天真无邪地说话( prattle的现在分词 )；发出连续而无意义的声音；闲扯；东拉西扯 | |
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complacently
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| adv. 满足地, 自满地, 沾沾自喜地 | |
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chirps
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| 鸟叫，虫鸣( chirp的第三人称单数 )； 啾； 啾啾 | |
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robins
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| n.知更鸟，鸫( robin的名词复数 )；（签名者不分先后，以避免受责的）圆形签名抗议书（或请愿书） | |
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bough
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| n.大树枝，主枝 | |
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precisely
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| adv.恰好，正好，精确地，细致地 | |
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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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speculatively
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| adv.思考地，思索地；投机地 | |
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assented
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| 同意，赞成( assent的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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musingly
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| adv.沉思地，冥想地 | |
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measles
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| n.麻疹，风疹，包虫病，痧子 | |
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mumps
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| n.腮腺炎 | |
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32
parental
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| adj.父母的；父的；母的 | |
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33
dodge
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| v.闪开，躲开，避开；n.妙计，诡计 | |
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34
strictly
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| adv.严厉地，严格地；严密地 | |
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35
distinctive
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| adj.特别的，有特色的，与众不同的 | |
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36
eyebrow
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| n.眉毛，眉 | |
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37
derisively
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| adv. 嘲笑地，嘲弄地 | |
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38
dodging
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| n.避开，闪过，音调改变v.闪躲( dodge的现在分词 )；回避 | |
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39
slanted
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| 有偏见的； 倾斜的 | |
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40
demonstration
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| n.表明，示范，论证，示威 | |
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41
calamity
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| n.灾害，祸患，不幸事件 | |
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42
tavern
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| n.小旅馆，客栈；小酒店 | |
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43
dwelling
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| n.住宅，住所，寓所 | |
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44
conjuring
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| n.魔术 | |
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45
gnomes
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| n.矮子( gnome的名词复数 )；侏儒；（尤指金融市场上搞投机的）银行家；守护神 | |
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46
hoisting
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| 起重，提升 | |
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47
Christian
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| adj.基督教徒的；n.基督教徒 | |
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48
helping
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| n.食物的一份&adj.帮助人的，辅助的 | |
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49
vivaciously
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| adv.快活地；活泼地；愉快地 | |
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50
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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51
recollected
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| adj.冷静的；镇定的；被回忆起的；沉思默想的v.记起，想起( recollect的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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52
narrative
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| n.叙述，故事；adj.叙事的，故事体的 | |
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53
tragic
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| adj.悲剧的，悲剧性的，悲惨的 | |
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54
insignificant
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| adj.无关紧要的，可忽略的，无意义的 | |
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55
irrelevant
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| adj.不恰当的，无关系的，不相干的 | |
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56
inflict
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| vt.(on)把…强加给，使遭受，使承担 | |
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57
aegis
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| n.盾；保护，庇护 | |
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58
remarkable
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| adj.显著的，异常的，非凡的，值得注意的 | |
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59
woes
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| 困境( woe的名词复数 )； 悲伤； 我好苦哇； 某人就要倒霉 | |
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60
glided
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| v.滑动( glide的过去式和过去分词 )；掠过；（鸟或飞机 ） 滑翔 | |
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61
infancy
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| n.婴儿期；幼年期；初期 | |
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62
whim
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| n.一时的兴致，突然的念头；奇想，幻想 | |
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63
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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64
rustling
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| n. 瑟瑟声，沙沙声 adj. 发沙沙声的 | |
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65
chamber
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| n.房间，寝室；会议厅；议院；会所 | |
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66
chambers
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| n.房间( chamber的名词复数 )；（议会的）议院；卧室；会议厅 | |
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67
dismantled
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| 拆开( dismantle的过去式和过去分词 )； 拆卸； 废除； 取消 | |
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68
mangle
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| vt.乱砍，撕裂，破坏，毁损，损坏，轧布 | |
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69
tilted
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| v. 倾斜的 | |
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70
rusty
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| adj.生锈的；锈色的；荒废了的 | |
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71
graveyard
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| n.坟场 | |
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72
scowls
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| 不悦之色，怒容( scowl的名词复数 ) | |
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73
wink
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| n.眨眼，使眼色，瞬间；v.眨眼，使眼色，闪烁 | |
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74
winks
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| v.使眼色( wink的第三人称单数 )；递眼色（表示友好或高兴等）；（指光）闪烁；闪亮 | |
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75
bestowed
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| 赠给，授予( bestow的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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76
intimacy
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| n.熟悉，亲密，密切关系，亲昵的言行 | |
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77
slit
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| n.狭长的切口；裂缝；vt.切开，撕裂 | |
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78
scuttle
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| v.急赶，疾走，逃避；n.天窗；舷窗 | |
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79
edifice
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| n.宏伟的建筑物(如宫殿，教室) | |
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80
defalcation
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| n.盗用公款，挪用公款，贪污 | |
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81
depressed
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| adj.沮丧的，抑郁的，不景气的，萧条的 | |
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82
instil
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| v.逐渐灌输 | |
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83
dreading
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| v.害怕，恐惧，担心( dread的现在分词 ) | |
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84
atmospherical
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| adj.空气的，气压的 | |
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85
barometer
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| n.气压表，睛雨表，反应指标 | |
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86
prospects
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| n.希望，前途(恒为复数) | |
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87
overcast
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| adj.阴天的，阴暗的，愁闷的；v.遮盖，（使）变暗，包边缝；n.覆盖，阴天 | |
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88
despondent
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| adj.失望的，沮丧的，泄气的 | |
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89
parlor
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| n.店铺，营业室；会客室，客厅 | |
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90
spine
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| n.脊柱，脊椎；(动植物的)刺；书脊 | |
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91
spinet
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| n.小型立式钢琴 | |
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92
severely
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| adv.严格地；严厉地；非常恶劣地 | |
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93
caressed
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| 爱抚或抚摸…( caress的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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94
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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95
perspicacious
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| adj.聪颖的，敏锐的 | |
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96
peculiar
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| adj.古怪的，异常的；特殊的，特有的 | |
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97
maiden
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| n.少女，处女；adj.未婚的，纯洁的，无经验的 | |
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98
lashed
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| adj.具睫毛的v.鞭打( lash的过去式和过去分词 )；煽动；紧系；怒斥 | |
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99
determined
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| adj.坚定的；有决心的 | |
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100
entirely
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| ad.全部地，完整地；完全地，彻底地 | |
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101
bust
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| vt.打破；vi.爆裂；n.半身像；胸部 | |
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102
retired
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| adj.隐退的，退休的，退役的 | |
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103
veered
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| v.（尤指交通工具）改变方向或路线( veer的过去式和过去分词 )；（指谈话内容、人的行为或观点）突然改变；（指风） （在北半球按顺时针方向、在南半球按逆时针方向）逐渐转向；风向顺时针转 | |
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104
rattled
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| 慌乱的，恼火的 | |
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105
tornado
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| n.飓风，龙卷风 | |
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106
sweeping
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| adj.范围广大的，一扫无遗的 | |
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107
evade
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| vt.逃避，回避；避开，躲避 | |
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108
hurled
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| v.猛投，用力掷( hurl的过去式和过去分词 )；大声叫骂 | |
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109
deference
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| n.尊重，顺从；敬意 | |
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110
gale
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| n.大风，强风，一阵闹声（尤指笑声等） | |
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111
beheld
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| v.看，注视( behold的过去式和过去分词 )；瞧；看呀；（叙述中用于引出某人意外的出现）哎哟 | |
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112
disorder
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| n.紊乱，混乱；骚动，骚乱；疾病，失调 | |
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113
scant
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| adj.不充分的，不足的；v.减缩，限制，忽略 | |
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114
drawn
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| v.拖，拉，拔出；adj.憔悴的，紧张的 | |
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115
lull
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| v.使安静，使入睡，缓和，哄骗；n.暂停，间歇 | |
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116
respiration
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| n.呼吸作用；一次呼吸；植物光合作用 | |
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117
slumber
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| n.睡眠，沉睡状态 | |
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118
grotesqueness
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119
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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120
murmurous
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| adj.低声的 | |
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121
literally
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| adv.照字面意义，逐字地；确实 | |
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122
geniality
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| n.和蔼，诚恳；愉快 | |
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123
chirped
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| 鸟叫，虫鸣( chirp的过去式 ) | |
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124
prattled
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| v.（小孩般）天真无邪地说话( prattle的过去式和过去分词 )；发出连续而无意义的声音；闲扯；东拉西扯 | |
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125
wagon
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| n.四轮马车，手推车，面包车；无盖运货列车 | |
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126
shipwreck
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| n.船舶失事，海难 | |
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127
testily
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| adv. 易怒地, 暴躁地 | |
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128
amiable
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| adj.和蔼可亲的，友善的，亲切的 | |
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