Carol grew definitely afraid of Vida as Vida transferred the passion which had been released in marriage to the cause of the war; as she lost all tolerance4. When Carol was touched by the desire for heroism5 in Raymie and tried tactfully to express it, Vida made her feel like an impertinent child.
By enlistment7 and draft, the sons of Lyman Cass, Nat Hicks, Sam Clark joined the army. But most of the soldiers were the sons of German and Swedish farmers unknown to Carol. Dr. Terry Gould and Dr. McGanum became captains in the medical corps9, and were stationed at camps in Iowa and Georgia. They were the only officers, besides Raymie, from the Gopher Prairie district. Kennicott wanted to go with them, but the several doctors of the town forgot medical rivalry10 and, meeting in council, decided11 that he would do better to wait and keep the town well till he should be needed. Kennicott was forty-two now; the only youngish doctor left in a radius12 of eighteen miles. Old Dr. Westlake, who loved comfort like a cat, protestingly rolled out at night for country calls, and hunted through his collar-box for his G. A. R. button.
Carol did not quite know what she thought about Kennicott’s going. Certainly she was no Spartan13 wife. She knew that he wanted to go; she knew that this longing14 was always in him, behind his unchanged trudging15 and remarks about the weather. She felt for him an admiring affection — and she was sorry that she had nothing more than affection.
Cy Bogart was the spectacular warrior16 of the town. Cy was no longer the weedy boy who had sat in the loft17 speculating about Carol’s egotism and the mysteries of generation. He was nineteen now, tall, broad, busy, the “town sport,” famous for his ability to drink beer, to shake dice18, to tell undesirable19 stories, and, from his post in front of Dyer’s drug store, to embarrass the girls by “jollying” them as they passed. His face was at once peach-bloomed and pimply20.
Cy was to be heard publishing it abroad that if he couldn’t get the Widow Bogart’s permission to enlist8, he’d run away and enlist without it. He shouted that he “hated every dirty Hun; by gosh, if he could just poke21 a bayonet into one big fat Heinie and learn him some decency22 and democracy, he’d die happy.” Cy got much reputation by whipping a farmboy named Adolph Pochbauer for being a “damn hyphenated German.” . . . This was the younger Pochbauer, who was killed in the Argonne, while he was trying to bring the body of his Yankee captain back to the lines. At this time Cy Bogart was still dwelling23 in Gopher Prairie and planning to go to war.
II
Everywhere Carol heard that the war was going to bring a basic change in psychology24, to purify and uplift everything from marital25 relations to national politics, and she tried to exult26 in it. Only she did not find it. She saw the women who made bandages for the Red Cross giving up bridge, and laughing at having to do without sugar, but over the surgical- dressings27 they did not speak of God and the souls of men, but of Miles Bjornstam’s impudence28, of Terry Gould’s scandalous carryings-on with a farmer’s daughter four years ago, of cooking cabbage, and of altering blouses. Their references to the war touched atrocities29 only. She herself was punctual, and efficient at making dressings, but she could not, like Mrs. Lyman Cass and Mrs. Bogart, fill the dressings with hate for enemies.
When she protested to Vida, “The young do the work while these old ones sit around and interrupt us and gag with hate because they’re too feeble to do anything but hate,” then Vida turned on her:
“If you can’t be reverent30, at least don’t be so pert and opinionated, now when men and women are dying. Some of us — we have given up so much, and we’re glad to. At least we expect that you others sha’n’t try to be witty31 at our expense.”
There was weeping.
Carol did desire to see the Prussian autocracy32 defeated; she did persuade herself that there were no autocracies33 save that of Prussia; she did thrill to motion-pictures of troops embarking34 in New York; and she was uncomfortable when she met Miles Bjornstam on the street and he croaked35:
“How’s tricks? Things going fine with me; got two new cows. Well, have you become a patriot36? Eh? Sure, they’ll bring democracy — the democracy of death. Yes, sure, in every war since the Garden of Eden the workmen have gone out to fight each other for perfectly37 good reasons — handed to them by their bosses. Now me, I’m wise. I’m so wise that I know I don’t know anything about the war.”
It was not a thought of the war that remained with her after Miles’s declamation38 but a perception that she and Vida and all of the good-intentioners who wanted to “do something for the common people” were insignificant39, because the “common people” were able to do things for themselves, and highly likely to, as soon as they learned the fact. The conception of millions of workmen like Miles taking control frightened her, and she scuttled40 rapidly away from the thought of a time when she might no longer retain the position of Lady Bountiful to the Bjornstams and Beas and Oscarinas whom she loved — and patronized.
III
It was in June, two months after America’s entrance into the war, that the momentous41 event happened — the visit of the great Percy Bresnahan, the millionaire president of the Velvet42 Motor Car Company of Boston, the one native son who was always to be mentioned to strangers.
For two weeks there were rumors43. Sam Clark cried to Kennicott, “Say, I hear Perce Bresnahan is coming! By golly it’ll be great to see the old scout44, eh?” Finally the Dauntless printed, on the front page with a No. 1 head, a letter from Bresnahan to Jackson Elder:
DEAR JACK45:
Well, Jack, I find I can make it. I’m to go to Washington as a dollar a year man for the government, in the aviation motor section, and tell them how much I don’t know about carburetors. But before I start in being a hero I want to shoot out and catch me a big black bass46 and cuss out you and Sam Clark and Harry47 Haydock and Will Kennicott and the rest of you pirates. I’ll land in G. P. on June 7, on No. 7 from Mpls. Shake a day-day. Tell Bert Tybee to save me a glass of beer.
Sincerely yours,
Perce.
All members of the social, financial, scientific, literary, and sporting sets were at No. 7 to meet Bresnahan; Mrs. Lyman Cass was beside Del Snafflin the barber, and Juanita Haydock almost cordial to Miss Villets the librarian. Carol saw Bresnahan laughing down at them from the train vestibule — big, immaculate, overjawed, with the eye of an executive. In the voice of the professional Good Fellow he bellowed48, “Howdy, folks!” As she was introduced to him (not he to her) Bresnahan looked into her eyes, and his hand-shake was warm, unhurried.
He declined the offers of motors; he walked off, his arm about the shoulder of Nat Hicks the sporting tailor, with the elegant Harry Haydock carrying one of his enormous pale leather bags, Del Snafflin the other, Jack Elder bearing an overcoat, and Julius Flickerbaugh the fishing-tackle. Carol noted49 that though Bresnahan wore spats50 and a stick, no small boy jeered51. She decided, “I must have Will get a double- breasted blue coat and a wing collar and a dotted bow-tie like his.”
That evening, when Kennicott was trimming the grass along the walk with sheep-shears, Bresnahan rolled up, alone. He was now in corduroy trousers, khaki shirt open at the throat, a white boating hat, and marvelous canvas-and-leather shoes “On the job there, old Will! Say, my Lord, this is living, to come back and get into a regular man-sized pair of pants. They can talk all they want to about the city, but my idea of a good time is to loaf around and see you boys and catch a gamey bass!”
He hustled53 up the walk and blared at Carol, “Where’s that little fellow? I hear you’ve got one fine big he-boy that you’re holding out on me!”
“He’s gone to bed,” rather briefly54.
“I know. And rules are rules, these days. Kids get routed through the shop like a motor. But look here, sister; I’m one great hand at busting55 rules. Come on now, let Uncle Perce have a look at him. Please now, sister?”
He put his arm about her waist; it was a large, strong, sophisticated arm, and very agreeable; he grinned at her with a devastating56 knowingness, while Kennicott glowed inanely58. She flushed; she was alarmed by the ease with which the big-city man invaded her guarded personality. She was glad, in retreat, to scamper59 ahead of the two men up-stairs to the hall-room in which Hugh slept. All the way Kennicott muttered, “Well, well, say, gee60 whittakers but it’s good to have you back, certainly is good to see you!”
Hugh lay on his stomach, making an earnest business of sleeping. He burrowed61 his eyes in the dwarf62 blue pillow to escape the electric light, then sat up abruptly63, small and frail64 in his woolly nightdrawers, his floss of brown hair wild, the pillow clutched to his breast. He wailed65. He stared at the stranger, in a manner of patient dismissal. He explained confidentially68 to Carol, “Daddy wouldn’t let it be morning yet. What does the pillow say?”
Bresnahan dropped his arm caressingly69 on Carol’s shoulder; he pronounced, “My Lord, you’re a lucky girl to have a fine young husk like that. I figure Will knew what he was doing when he persuaded you to take a chance on an old bum70 like him! They tell me you come from St. Paul. We’re going to get you to come to Boston some day.” He leaned over the bed. “Young man, you’re the slickest sight I’ve seen this side of Boston. With your permission, may we present you with a slight token of our regard and appreciation71 of your long service?”
He held out a red rubber Pierrot. Hugh remarked, “Gimme it,” hid it under the bedclothes, and stared at Bresnahan as though he had never seen the man before.
For once Carol permitted herself the spiritual luxury of not asking “Why, Hugh dear, what do you say when some one gives you a present?” The great man was apparently72 waiting. They stood in inane57 suspense73 till Bresnahan led them out, rumbling74, “How about planning a fishing-trip, Will?”
He remained for half an hour. Always he told Carol what a charming person she was; always he looked at her knowingly.
“Yes. He probably would make a woman fall in love with him. But it wouldn’t last a week. I’d get tired of his confounded buoyancy. His hypocrisy75. He’s a spiritual bully76. He makes me rude to him in self-defense. Oh yes, he is glad to be here. He does like us. He’s so good an actor that he convinces his own self. . . . I’d HATE him in Boston. He’d have all the obvious big-city things. Limousines77. Discreet78 evening-clothes. Order a clever dinner at a smart restaurant. Drawing-room decorated by the best firm — but the pictures giving him away. I’d rather talk to Guy Pollock in his dusty office. . . . How I lie! His arm coaxed79 my shoulder and his eyes dared me not to admire him. I’d be afraid of him. I hate him! . . . Oh, the inconceivable egotistic imagination of women! All this stew80 of analysss. about a man, a good, decent, friendly, efficient man, because he was kind to me, as Will’s wife!”
IV
The Kennicotts, the Elders, the Clarks, and Bresnahan went fishing at Red Squaw Lake. They drove forty miles to the lake in Elder’s new Cadillac. There was much laughter and bustle81 at the start, much storing of lunch-baskets and jointed82 poles, much inquiry83 as to whether it would really bother Carol to sit with her feet up on a roll of shawls. When they were ready to go Mrs. Clark lamented84, “Oh, Sam, I forgot my magazine,” and Bresnahan bullied85, “Come on now, if you women think you’re going to be literary, you can’t go with us tough guys!” Every one laughed a great deal, and as they drove on Mrs. Clark explained that though probably she would not have read it, still, she might have wanted to, while the other girls had a nap in the afternoon, and she was right in the middle of a serial86 — it was an awfully87 exciting story — it seems that this girl was a Turkish dancer (only she was really the daughter of an American lady and a Russian prince) and men kept running after her, just disgustingly, but she remained pure, and there was a scene ——
While the men floated on the lake, casting for black bass, the women prepared lunch and yawned. Carol was a little resentful of the manner in which the men assumed that they did not care to fish. “I don’t want to go with them, but I would like the privilege of refusing.”
The lunch was long and pleasant. It was a background for the talk of the great man come home, hints of cities and large imperative88 affairs and famous people, jocosely89 modest admissions that, yes, their friend Perce was doing about as well as most of these “Boston swells90 that think so much of themselves because they come from rich old families and went to college and everything. Believe me, it’s us new business men that are running Beantown today, and not a lot of fussy91 old bucks92 snoozing in their clubs!”
Carol realized that he was not one of the sons of Gopher Prairie who, if they do not actually starve in the East, are invariably spoken of as “highly successful”; and she found behind his too incessant93 flattery a genuine affection for his mates. It was in the matter of the war that he most favored and thrilled them. Dropping his voice while they bent94 nearer (there was no one within two miles to overhear), he disclosed the fact that in both Boston and Washington he’d been getting a lot of inside stuff on the war — right straight from headquarters — he was in touch with some men — couldn’t name them but they were darn high up in both the War and State Departments — and he would say — only for Pete’s sake they mustn’t breathe one word of this; it was strictly95 on the Q.T. and not generally known outside of Washington — but just between ourselves — and they could take this for gospel — Spain had finally decided to join the Entente96 allies in the Grand Scrap97. Yes, sir, there’d be two million fully6 equipped Spanish soldiers fighting with us in France in one month now. Some surprise for Germany, all right!
“How about the prospects98 for revolution in Germany?” reverently99 asked Kennicott.
The authority grunted100, “Nothing to it. The one thing you can bet on is that no matter what happens to the German people, win or lose, they’ll stick by the Kaiser till hell freezes over. I got that absolutely straight, from a fellow who’s on the inside of the inside in Washington. No, sir! I don’t pretend to know much about international affairs but one thing you can put down as settled is that Germany will be a Hohenzollern empire for the next forty years. At that, I don’t know as it’s so bad. The Kaiser and the Junkers keep a firm hand on a lot of these red agitators101 who’d be worse than a king if they could get control.”
“I’m terribly interested in this uprising that overthrew103 the Czar in Russia,” suggested Carol. She had finally been conquered by the man’s wizard knowledge of affairs.
Kennicott apologized for her: “Carrie’s nuts about this Russian revolution. Is there much to it, Perce?”
“There is not!” Bresnahan said flatly. “I can speak by the book there. Carol, honey, I’m surprised to find you talking like a New York Russian Jew, or one of these long-hairs! I can tell you, only you don’t need to let every one in on it, this is confidential67, I got it from a man who’s close to the State Department, but as a matter of fact the Czar will be back in power before the end of the year. You read a lot about his retiring and about his being killed, but I know he’s got a big army back of him, and he’ll show these damn agitators, lazy beggars hunting for a soft berth104 bossing the poor goats that fall for ’em, he’ll show ’em where they get off!”
Carol was sorry to hear that the Czar was coming back, but she said nothing. The others had looked vacant at the mention of a country so far away as Russia. Now they edged in and asked Bresnahan what he thought about the Packard car, investments in Texas oil-wells, the comparative merits of young men born in Minnesota and in Massachusetts, the question of prohibition105, the future cost of motor tires, and wasn’t it true that American aviators106 put it all over these Frenchmen?
They were glad to find that he agreed with them on every point.
As she heard Bresnahan announce, “We’re perfectly willing to talk to any committee the men may choose, but we’re not going to stand for some outside agitator102 butting107 in and telling us how we’re going to run our plant!” Carol remembered that Jackson Elder (now meekly108 receiving New Ideas) had said the same thing in the same words.
While Sam Clark was digging up from his memory a long and immensely detailed109 story of the crushing things he had said to a Pullman porter, named George, Bresnahan hugged his knees and rocked and watched Carol. She wondered if he did not understand the laboriousness110 of the smile with which she listened to Kennicott’s account of the “good one he had on Carrie,” that marital, coyly improper111, ten-times-told tale of how she had forgotten to attend to Hugh because she was “all het up pounding the box”— which may be translated as “eagerly playing the piano.” She was certain that Bresnahan saw through her when she pretended not to hear Kennicott’s invitation to join a game of cribbage. She feared the comments he might make; she was irritated by her fear.
She was equally irritated, when the motor returned through Gopher Prairie, to find that she was proud of sharing in Bresnahan’s kudos112 as people waved, and Juanita Haydock leaned from a window. She said to herself, “As though I cared whether I’m seen with this fat phonograph!” and simultaneously113, “Everybody has noticed how much Will and I are playing with Mr. Bresnahan.”
The town was full of his stories, his friendliness114, his memory for names, his clothes, his trout-flies, his generosity115. He had given a hundred dollars to Father Klubok the priest, and a hundred to the Reverend Mr. Zitterel the Baptist minister, for Americanization work.
At the Bon Ton, Carol heard Nat Hicks the tailor exulting116:
“Old Perce certainly pulled a good one on this fellow Bjornstam that always is shooting off his mouth. He’s supposed to of settled down since he got married, but Lord, those fellows that think they know it all, they never change. Well, the Red Swede got the grand razz handed to him, all right. He had the nerve to breeze up to Perce, at Dave Dyer’s, and he said, he said to Perce, ‘I’ve always wanted to look at a man that was so useful that folks would pay him a million dollars for existing,’ and Perce gave him the once-over and come right back, ‘Have, eh?’ he says. ‘Well,’ he says, ‘I’ve been looking for a man so useful sweeping117 floors that I could pay him four dollars a day. Want the job, my friend?’ Ha, ha, ha! Say, you know how lippy Bjornstam is? Well for once he didn’t have a thing to say. He tried to get fresh, and tell what a rotten town this is, and Perce come right back at him, ‘If you don’t like this country, you better get out of it and go back to Germany, where you belong!’ Say, maybe us fellows didn’t give Bjornstam the horse-laugh though! Oh, Perce is the white-haired boy in this burg, all rightee!”
V
Bresnahan had borrowed Jackson Elder’s motor; he stopped at the Kennicotts’; he bawled118 at Carol, rocking with Hugh en the porch, “Better come for a ride.”
She wanted to snub him. “Thanks so much, but I’m being maternal119.”
“Bring him along! Bring him along!” Bresnahan was out of the seat, stalking up the sidewalk, and the rest of her protests and dignities were feeble.
She did not bring Hugh along.
Bresnahan was silent for a mile, in words, But he looked at her as though he meant her to know that he understood everything she thought.
She observed how deep was his chest.
“Lovely fields over there,” he said.
“You really like them? There’s no profit in them.”
He chuckled120. “Sister, you can’t get away with it. I’m onto you. You consider me a big bluff122. Well, maybe I am. But so are you, my dear — and pretty enough so that I’d try to make love to you, if I weren’t afraid you’d slap me.”
“Mr. Bresnahan, do you talk that way to your’ wife’s friends? And do you call them ‘sister’?”
“As a matter of fact, I do! And I make ’em like it. Score two!” But his chuckle121 was not so rotund, and he was very attentive123 to the ammeter.
In a moment he was cautiously attacking: “That’s a wonderful boy, Will Kennicott. Great work these country practitioners124 are doing. The other day, in Washington, I was talking to a big scientific shark, a professor in Johns Hopkins medical school, and he was saying that no one has ever sufficiently126 appreciated the general practitioner125 and the sympathy and help he gives folks. These crack specialists, the young scientific fellows, they’re so cocksure and so wrapped up in their laboratories that they miss the human element. Except in the case of a few freak diseases that no respectable human being would waste his time having, it’s the old doc that keeps a community well, mind and body. And strikes me that Will is one of the steadiest and clearest-headed counter practitioners I’ve ever met. Eh?”
“I’m sure he is. He’s a servant of reality.”
“Come again? Um. Yes. All of that, whatever that is. . . . Say, child, you don’t care a whole lot for Gopher Prairie, if I’m not mistaken.”
“Nope.”
“There’s where you’re missing a big chance. There’s nothing to these cities. Believe me, I KNOW! This is a good town, as they go. You’re lucky to be here. I wish I could shy on!”
“Very well, why don’t you?”
“Huh? Why — Lord — can’t get away fr ——”
“You don’t have to stay. I do! So I want to change it. Do you know that men like you, prominent men, do quite a reasonable amount of harm by insisting that your native towns and native states are perfect? It’s you who encourage the denizens127 not to change. They quote you, and go on believing that they live in paradise, and ——” She clenched128 her fist. “The incredible dullness of it!”
“Suppose you were right. Even so, don’t you think you waste a lot of thundering on one poor scared little town? Kind of mean!”
“I tell you it’s dull. DULL!”
“The folks don’t find it dull. These couples like the Haydocks have a high old time; dances and cards ——”
“They don’t. They’re bored. Almost every one here is. Vacuousness129 and bad manners and spiteful gossip — that’s what I hate.”
“Those things — course they’re here. So are they in Boston! And every place else! Why, the faults you find in this town are simply human nature, and never will be changed.”
“Perhaps. But in a Boston all the good Carols (I’ll admit I have no faults) can find one another and play. But here — I’m alone, in a stale pool — except as it’s stirred by the great Mr. Bresnahan!”
“My Lord, to hear you tell it, a fellow ‘d think that all the denizens, as you impolitely call ’em, are so confoundedly unhappy that it’s a wonder they don’t all up and commit suicide. But they seem to struggle along somehow!”
“They don’t know what they miss. And anybody can endure anything. Look at men in mines and in prisons.”
He drew up on the south shore of Lake Minniemashie. He glanced across the reeds reflected on the water, the quiver of wavelets like crumpled130 tinfoil131, the distant shores patched with dark woods, silvery oats and deep yellow wheat. He patted her hand. “Sis —— Carol, you’re a darling girl, but you’re difficult. Know what I think?”
“Yes.”
“Humph. Maybe you do, but —— My humble132 (not too humble!) opinion is that you like to be different. You like to think you’re peculiar133. Why, if you knew how many tens of thousands of women, especially in New York, say just what you do, you’d lose all the fun of thinking you’re a lone52 genius and you’d be on the band-wagon whooping134 it up for Gopher Prairie and a good decent family life. There’s always about a million young women just out of college who want to teach their grandmothers how to suck eggs.”
“How proud you are of that homely135 rustic136 metaphor137! You use it at ‘banquets’ and directors’ meetings, and boast of your climb from a humble homestead.”
“Huh! You may have my number. I’m not telling. But look here: You’re so prejudiced against Gopher Prairie that you overshoot the mark; you antagonize those who might be inclined to agree with you in some particulars but —— Great guns, the town can’t be all wrong!”
“No, it isn’t. But it could be. Let me tell you a fable138. Imagine a cavewoman complaining to her mate. She doesn’t like one single thing; she hates the damp cave, the rats running over her bare legs, the stiff skin garments, the eating of half-raw meat, her husband’s bushy face, the constant battles, and the worship of the spirits who will hoodoo her unless she gives the priests her best claw necklace. Her man protests, ‘But it can’t all be wrong!’ and he thinks he has reduced her to absurdity139. Now you assume that a world which produces a Percy Bresnahan and a Velvet Motor Company must be civilized140. It is? Aren’t we only about half-way along in barbarism? I suggest Mrs. Bogart as a test. And we’ll continue in barbarism just as long as people as nearly intelligent as you continue to defend things as they are because they are.”
“You’re a fair spieler, child. But, by golly, I’d like to see you try to design a new manifold, or run a factory and keep a lot of your fellow reds from Czech-slovenski-magyar- godknowswheria on the job! You’d drop your theories so darn quick! I’m not any defender141 of things as they are. Sure. They’re rotten. Only I’m sensible.”
He preached his gospel: love of outdoors, Playing the Game, loyalty142 to friends. She had the neophyte’s shock of discovery that, outside of tracts143, conservatives do not tremble and find no answer when an iconoclast144 turns on them, but retort with agility145 and confusing statistics.
He was so much the man, the worker, the friend, that she liked him when she most tried to stand out against him; he was so much the successful executive that she did not want him to despise her. His manner of sneering146 at what he called “parlor socialists” (though the phrase was not overwhelmingly new) had a power which made her wish to placate147 his company of well-fed, speed-loving administrators148. When he demanded, “Would you like to associate with nothing but a lot of turkey-necked, horn-spectacled nuts that have adenoids and need a hair-cut, and that spend all their time kicking about ‘conditions’ and never do a lick of work?” she said, “No, but just the same ——” When he asserted, “Even if your cavewoman was right in knocking the whole works, I bet some red-blooded Regular Fellow, some real He-man, found her a nice dry cave, and not any whining149 criticizing radical,” she wriggled150 her head feebly, between a nod and a shake.
His large hands, sensual lips, easy voice supported his self- confidence. He made her feel young and soft — as Kennicott had once made her feel. She had nothing to say when he bent his powerful head and experimented, “My dear, I’m sorry I’m going away from this town. You’d be a darling child to play with. You ARE pretty! Some day in Boston I’ll show you how we buy a lunch. Well, hang it, got to be starting back.”
The only answer to his gospel of beef which she could find, when she was home, was a wail66 of “But just the same ——”
She did not see him again before he departed for Washington.
His eyes remained. His glances at her lips and hair and shoulders had revealed to her that she was not a wife-and- mother alone, but a girl; that there still were men in the world, as there had been in college days.
That admiration151 led her to study Kennicott, to tear at the shroud152 of intimacy153, to perceive the strangeness of the most familiar.
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diligent
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| adj.勤勉的，勤奋的 | |
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lieutenant
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| n.陆军中尉，海军上尉；代理官员，副职官员 | |
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infantry
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tolerance
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heroism
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fully
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enlistment
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enlist
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| vt.谋取(支持等)，赢得；征募；vi.入伍 | |
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corps
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rivalry
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decided
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radius
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spartan
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longing
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trudging
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| vt.& vi.跋涉，吃力地走（trudge的现在分词形式） | |
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warrior
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| n.勇士，武士，斗士 | |
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17
loft
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| n.阁楼，顶楼 | |
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18
dice
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| n.骰子；vt.把（食物）切成小方块，冒险 | |
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19
undesirable
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| adj.不受欢迎的，不良的，不合意的，讨厌的；n.不受欢迎的人，不良分子 | |
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20
pimply
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| adj.肿泡的；有疙瘩的；多粉刺的；有丘疹的 | |
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21
poke
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| n.刺，戳，袋；vt.拨开，刺，戳；vi.戳，刺，捅，搜索，伸出，行动散慢 | |
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22
decency
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| n.体面，得体，合宜，正派，庄重 | |
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23
dwelling
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| n.住宅，住所，寓所 | |
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24
psychology
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| n.心理，心理学，心理状态 | |
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25
marital
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| adj.婚姻的，夫妻的 | |
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26
exult
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| v.狂喜，欢腾；欢欣鼓舞 | |
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27
dressings
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| n.敷料剂；穿衣( dressing的名词复数 )；穿戴；（拌制色拉的）调料；（保护伤口的）敷料 | |
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28
impudence
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| n.厚颜无耻；冒失；无礼 | |
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29
atrocities
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| n.邪恶，暴行( atrocity的名词复数 )；滔天大罪 | |
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30
reverent
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| adj.恭敬的，虔诚的 | |
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31
witty
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| adj.机智的，风趣的 | |
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32
autocracy
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| n.独裁政治，独裁政府 | |
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33
autocracies
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| n.独裁( autocracy的名词复数 )；独裁统治；独裁政体；独裁政府 | |
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34
embarking
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| 乘船( embark的现在分词 )； 装载； 从事 | |
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35
croaked
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| v.呱呱地叫( croak的过去式和过去分词 )；用粗的声音说 | |
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36
patriot
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| n.爱国者，爱国主义者 | |
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37
perfectly
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| adv.完美地，无可非议地，彻底地 | |
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38
declamation
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| n. 雄辩，高调 | |
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39
insignificant
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| adj.无关紧要的，可忽略的，无意义的 | |
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40
scuttled
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| v.使船沉没( scuttle的过去式和过去分词 )；快跑，急走 | |
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41
momentous
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| adj.重要的，重大的 | |
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42
velvet
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| n.丝绒，天鹅绒；adj.丝绒制的，柔软的 | |
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43
rumors
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| n.传闻( rumor的名词复数 )；[古]名誉；咕哝；[古]喧嚷v.传闻( rumor的第三人称单数 )；[古]名誉；咕哝；[古]喧嚷 | |
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44
scout
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| n.童子军，侦察员；v.侦察，搜索 | |
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45
jack
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| n.插座，千斤顶，男人；v.抬起，提醒，扛举；n.（Jake）杰克 | |
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46
bass
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| n.男低音(歌手)；低音乐器；低音大提琴 | |
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47
harry
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| vt.掠夺，蹂躏，使苦恼 | |
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48
bellowed
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| v.发出吼叫声，咆哮（尤指因痛苦）( bellow的过去式和过去分词 )；（愤怒地）说出（某事），大叫 | |
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49
noted
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| adj.著名的，知名的 | |
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50
spats
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| n.口角( spat的名词复数 )；小争吵；鞋罩；鞋套v.spit的过去式和过去分词( spat的第三人称单数 )；口角；小争吵；鞋罩 | |
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51
jeered
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| v.嘲笑( jeer的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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52
lone
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| adj.孤寂的，单独的；唯一的 | |
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53
hustled
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| 催促（hustle的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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54
briefly
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| adv.简单地，简短地 | |
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55
busting
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| 打破，打碎( bust的现在分词 )； 突击搜查（或搜捕）； （使）降级，降低军阶 | |
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56
devastating
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| adj.毁灭性的，令人震惊的，强有力的 | |
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57
inane
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| adj.空虚的，愚蠢的，空洞的 | |
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58
inanely
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59
scamper
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| v.奔跑，快跑 | |
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60
gee
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| n.马；int.向右！前进！，惊讶时所发声音；v.向右转 | |
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61
burrowed
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| v.挖掘（洞穴），挖洞( burrow的过去式和过去分词 )；翻寻 | |
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62
dwarf
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| n.矮子，侏儒，矮小的动植物；vt.使…矮小 | |
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63
abruptly
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| adv.突然地，出其不意地 | |
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64
frail
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| adj.身体虚弱的；易损坏的 | |
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65
wailed
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| v.哭叫，哀号( wail的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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66
wail
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| vt./vi.大声哀号，恸哭；呼啸，尖啸 | |
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67
confidential
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| adj.秘（机）密的，表示信任的，担任机密工作的 | |
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68
confidentially
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| ad.秘密地，悄悄地 | |
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69
caressingly
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| 爱抚地，亲切地 | |
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70
bum
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| n.臀部；流浪汉，乞丐；vt.乞求，乞讨 | |
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71
appreciation
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| n.评价；欣赏；感谢；领会，理解；价格上涨 | |
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72
apparently
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| adv.显然地；表面上，似乎 | |
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73
suspense
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| n.（对可能发生的事）紧张感，担心，挂虑 | |
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74
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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75
hypocrisy
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| n.伪善，虚伪 | |
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76
bully
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| n.恃强欺弱者，小流氓；vt.威胁，欺侮 | |
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77
limousines
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| n.豪华轿车( limousine的名词复数 )；（往返机场接送旅客的）中型客车，小型公共汽车 | |
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78
discreet
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|
| adj.(言行)谨慎的；慎重的；有判断力的 | |
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79
coaxed
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|
| v.哄，用好话劝说( coax的过去式和过去分词 )；巧言骗取；哄劝，劝诱 | |
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80
stew
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| n.炖汤，焖，烦恼；v.炖汤，焖，忧虑 | |
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81
bustle
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|
| v.喧扰地忙乱，匆忙，奔忙；n.忙碌；喧闹 | |
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82
jointed
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| 有接缝的 | |
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83
inquiry
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|
| n.打听，询问，调查，查问 | |
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84
lamented
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|
| adj.被哀悼的，令人遗憾的v.（为…）哀悼，痛哭，悲伤( lament的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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85
bullied
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|
| adj.被欺负了v.恐吓，威逼( bully的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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86
serial
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| n.连本影片，连本电视节目；adj.连续的 | |
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87
awfully
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|
| adv.可怕地，非常地，极端地 | |
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88
imperative
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| n.命令，需要；规则；祈使语气；adj.强制的；紧急的 | |
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89
jocosely
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| adv.说玩笑地，诙谐地 | |
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90
swells
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| 增强( swell的第三人称单数 )； 肿胀； （使）凸出； 充满（激情） | |
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91
fussy
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| adj.为琐事担忧的，过分装饰的，爱挑剔的 | |
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92
bucks
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| n.雄鹿( buck的名词复数 )；钱；（英国十九世纪初的）花花公子；（用于某些表达方式）责任v.（马等）猛然弓背跃起( buck的第三人称单数 )；抵制；猛然震荡；马等尥起后蹄跳跃 | |
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93
incessant
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| adj.不停的，连续的 | |
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94
bent
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| n.爱好，癖好；adj.弯的；决心的，一心的 | |
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95
strictly
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| adv.严厉地，严格地；严密地 | |
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96
entente
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| n.协定；有协定关系的各国 | |
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97
scrap
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| n.碎片；废料；v.废弃，报废 | |
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98
prospects
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| n.希望，前途(恒为复数) | |
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99
reverently
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| adv.虔诚地 | |
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100
grunted
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| （猪等）作呼噜声( grunt的过去式和过去分词 )； （指人）发出类似的哼声； 咕哝着说 | |
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101
agitators
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| n.（尤指政治变革的）鼓动者( agitator的名词复数 )；煽动者；搅拌器；搅拌机 | |
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102
agitator
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| n.鼓动者；搅拌器 | |
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103
overthrew
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| overthrow的过去式 | |
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104
berth
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| n.卧铺，停泊地，锚位；v.使停泊 | |
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105
prohibition
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| n.禁止；禁令，禁律 | |
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106
aviators
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| 飞机驾驶员，飞行员( aviator的名词复数 ) | |
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107
butting
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| 用头撞人（犯规动作） | |
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108
meekly
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| adv.温顺地，逆来顺受地 | |
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109
detailed
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| adj.详细的，详尽的，极注意细节的，完全的 | |
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110
laboriousness
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111
improper
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| adj.不适当的，不合适的，不正确的，不合礼仪的 | |
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112
kudos
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| n.荣誉，名声 | |
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113
simultaneously
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| adv.同时发生地，同时进行地 | |
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114
friendliness
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| n.友谊，亲切，亲密 | |
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115
generosity
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| n.大度，慷慨，慷慨的行为 | |
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116
exulting
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| vi. 欢欣鼓舞，狂喜 | |
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117
sweeping
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| adj.范围广大的，一扫无遗的 | |
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118
bawled
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| v.大叫，大喊( bawl的过去式和过去分词 )；放声大哭；大声叫出；叫卖（货物） | |
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119
maternal
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| adj.母亲的，母亲般的，母系的，母方的 | |
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120
chuckled
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| 轻声地笑( chuckle的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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121
chuckle
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| vi.／n.轻声笑，咯咯笑 | |
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122
bluff
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| v.虚张声势，用假象骗人；n.虚张声势，欺骗 | |
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123
attentive
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| adj.注意的，专心的；关心(别人)的，殷勤的 | |
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124
practitioners
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| n.习艺者，实习者( practitioner的名词复数 )；从业者（尤指医师） | |
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125
practitioner
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| n.实践者，从事者；(医生或律师等)开业者 | |
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126
sufficiently
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| adv.足够地，充分地 | |
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127
denizens
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| n.居民，住户( denizen的名词复数 ) | |
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128
clenched
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| v.紧握，抓紧，咬紧( clench的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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129
vacuousness
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| n.空虚，无聊，愚蠢 | |
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130
crumpled
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| adj. 弯扭的, 变皱的 动词crumple的过去式和过去分词形式 | |
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131
tinfoil
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| n.锡纸，锡箔 | |
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132
humble
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| adj.谦卑的，恭顺的；地位低下的；v.降低，贬低 | |
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133
peculiar
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| adj.古怪的，异常的；特殊的，特有的 | |
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134
whooping
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| 发嗬嗬声的，发咳声的 | |
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135
homely
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| adj.家常的，简朴的；不漂亮的 | |
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136
rustic
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| adj.乡村的，有乡村特色的；n.乡下人，乡巴佬 | |
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137
metaphor
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| n.隐喻，暗喻 | |
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138
fable
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| n.寓言；童话；神话 | |
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139
absurdity
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| n.荒谬，愚蠢；谬论 | |
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140
civilized
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| a.有教养的，文雅的 | |
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141
defender
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| n.保卫者，拥护者，辩护人 | |
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142
loyalty
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| n.忠诚，忠心 | |
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143
tracts
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| 大片土地( tract的名词复数 )； 地带； （体内的）道； （尤指宣扬宗教、伦理或政治的）短文 | |
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144
iconoclast
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| n.反对崇拜偶像者 | |
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145
agility
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| n.敏捷，活泼 | |
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146
sneering
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| 嘲笑的，轻蔑的 | |
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147
placate
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| v.抚慰，平息(愤怒) | |
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148
administrators
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| n.管理者( administrator的名词复数 )；有管理（或行政）才能的人；（由遗嘱检验法庭指定的）遗产管理人；奉派暂管主教教区的牧师 | |
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149
whining
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| n. 抱怨，牢骚 v. 哭诉，发牢骚 | |
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150
wriggled
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| v.扭动，蠕动，蜿蜒行进( wriggle的过去式和过去分词 )；（使身体某一部位）扭动；耍滑不做，逃避（应做的事等） | |
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151
admiration
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| n.钦佩，赞美，羡慕 | |
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152
shroud
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| n.裹尸布，寿衣；罩，幕；vt.覆盖，隐藏 | |
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153
intimacy
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| n.熟悉，亲密，密切关系，亲昵的言行 | |
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