“Good name in man or woman Is the immediate19 jewel of their souls.”
And after all these years of spotless living and generous use of his wealth, was he to be dragged down to the depths of infamy20 and degradation21 by a man like Moreland? Already, in fancy, he heard the jeering22 cries of his fellow-men, and saw the finger of scorn point at him — he, the great Mark Frettlby, famous throughout Australia for his honesty, integrity, and generosity23. No, it could not be, and yet this would surely happen unless he took means to prevent it.
The day after he had seen Moreland, and knew that his secret was no longer safe, since it was in the power of a man who might reveal it at any moment in a drunken fit, or out of sheer maliciousness24, he sat at his desk writing. After a time he laid down his pen, and taking up a portrait of hic dead wife which stood just in front of him, he stared at it long and earnestly As he did so, his mind went back to the time when he had first met and loved her. Even as Faust had entered into the purity and serenity25 of Gretchen’s chamber26, out of the coarseness and profligacy27 of Auerbach’s cellar, so he, leaving behind him the wild life of his youth, had entered into the peace and quiet of a domestic home. The old feverish28 life with Rosanna Moore, seemed to be as unsubstantial and chimerical29, as, no doubt, his union with Lillith after he met Eve, seemed to Adam in the old Rabbinical legend. There seemed to be only one way open to him, by which he could escape the relentless fate which dogged his steps. He would write a confession30 of everything from the time he had first met Rosanna, and then — death. He would cut the Gordian knot of all his difficulties, and then his secret would be safe; safe? no, it could not be while Moreland lived. When he was dead Moreland would see Madge and embitter31 her life with the story of her father’s sins — yes — he must live to protect her, and drag his weary chain of bitter remembrance through life, always with that terrible sword of Damocles hanging over him. But still, he would write out his confession, and after his death, whenever it may happen, it might help if not altogether to exculpate32, at least to secure some pity for a man who had been hardly dealt with by Fate. His resolution taken, he put it into force at once, and sat all day at his desk filling page after page with the history of his past life, which was so bitter to him. He started at first languidly, and as in the performance of an unpleasant but necessary duty. Soon, however, he became interested in it, and took a peculiar33 pleasure in putting down every minute circumstance which made the case stronger against, himself. He dealt with it, not as a criminal, but as a prosecutor34, and painted his conduct as much blacker than it really had been. Towards the end of the day, however, after reading over the earlier sheets, he experienced a revulsion of feeling, seeing how severe he had been on himself, so he wrote a defence of his conduct, showing that fate had been too strong for him. It was a weak argument to bring forward, but still he felt it was the only one that he could make. It was quite dark when he had finished, and while sitting in the twilight35, looking dreamily at the sheets scattered36 all over his desk, he heard a knock at the door, and his daughter’s voice asking if he was coming to dinner. All day long he had closed his door against everyone, but now his task being ended, he collected all the closely-written sheets together, placed them in a drawer of his escritoire, which he locked, and then opened the door.
“Dear papa,” cried Madge, as she entered rapidly, and threw her arms around his neck, “what have you been doing here all day by yourself?”
“Writing,” returned her father laconically37, as he gently removed her arms.
“Why, I thought you were ill,” she answered, looking at him apprehensively38.
“No, dear,” he replied, quietly. “Not ill, but worried.”
“I knew that dreadful man who came last night had told you something to worry you. Who is he?”
“Oh! a friend of mine,” answered Frettlby, with hesitation39.
“What — Roger Moreland?”
Her father started.
“How do you know it was Roger Moreland?”
“Oh! Brian recognised him as he went out.”
Mark Frettlby hesitated for a few moments, and then busied himself with the papers on his desk, as he replied in a low voice —
“You are right — it was Roger Moreland — he is very hard up, and as he was a friend of poor Whyte’s, he asked me to assist him, which I did.”
He hated to hear himself telling such a deliberate falsehood, but there was no help for it — Madge must never know the truth so long as he could conceal40 it.
“Just like you,” said Madge, kissing him lightly with filial pride. “The best and kindest of men.”
He shivered slightly as he felt her caress41, and thought how she would recoil42 from him did she know all. “After all,” says some cynical43 writer, “the illusions of youth are mostly due to the want of experience.” Madge, ignorant in a great measure of the world, cherished her pleasant illusions, though many of them had been destroyed by the trials of the past year, and her father longed to keep her in this frame of mind.
“Now go down to dinner, my dear,” he said, leading her to the door. “I will follow soon.”
“Don’t be long,” replied his daughter, “or I shall come up again,” and she ran down the stairs, her heart feeling strangely light.
Her father looked after her until she vanished, then heaving a regretful sigh returned to his study, and taking out the scattered papers fastened them together, and endorsed44 them,
“My Confession.” He then placed them in an envelope, sealed it, and put it back in the desk. “If all that is in that packet were known,” he said aloud, as he left the room, “what would the world say?”
That night he was singularly brilliant at the dinner table. Generally a very reticent45 and grave man, on this night he laughed and talked so gaily that the very servants noticed the change. The fact was he felt a sense of relief at having unburdened his mind, and felt as though by writing out that confession he had laid the spectre which had haunted him for so long. His daughter was delighted at the change in his spirits, but the old Scotch46 nurse, who had been in the house since Madge was a baby, shook her head —
“He’s fey,” she said gravely. “He’s no lang for the warld.”
Of course she was laughed at — people who believe in presentiments47 generally are — but, nevertheless, she held firmly to her opinion.
Mr. Frettlby went to bed early that night, the excitement of the last few days and the feverish gaiety in which he had lately indulged proving too strong for him. No sooner had he laid his head on his pillow than he dropped off to sleep at once, and forgot in placid48 slumber49 the troubles and worries of his waking hours.
It was only nine o’clock, so Madge stayed by herself in the great drawing-room, and read a new novel, which was then creating a sensation, called “Sweet Violet Eyes.” It belied50 its reputation, however, for it was very soon thrown on the table with a look of disgust, and rising from her seat Madge walked up and down the room, and wished some good fairy would hint to Brian that he was wanted. If man is a gregarious51 animal, how much more, then, is a woman? This is not a conundrum52, but a simple truth. “A female Robinson Crusoe,” says a writer who prided himself upon being a keen observer of human nature — “a female Robinson Crusoe would have gone mad for want of something to talk to.” This remark, though severe, nevertheless contains several grains of truth, for women, as a rule, talk more than men. They are more sociable53, and a Miss Misanthrope54, in spite of Justin McCarthy’s, is unknown — at least in civilised communities. Miss Frettlby, being neither misanthropic55 nor dumb, began to long for some one to talk to, and, ringing the bell, ordered Sal to be sent in. The two girls had become great friends, and Madge, though by two years the younger, assumed the role of mentor56, and under her guidance Sal was rapidly improving. It was a strange irony57 of fate which brought together these two children of the same father, each with such different histories — the one reared in luxury and affluence58, never having known want; the other dragged up in the gutter59, all unsexed and besmirched60 by the life she had led. “The whirligig of time brings in its revenges,” and it was the last thing in the world Mark Frettlby would have thought of seeing: Rosanna Moore’s child, whom he fancied dead, under the same roof as his daughter Madge.
On receiving Madge’s message Sal came to the drawing room, and the two were soon chatting amicably61 together. The room was almost in darkness, only one lamp being lighted, Mr. Frettlby very sensibly detested62 gas, with its glaring light, and had nothing but lamps in his drawing-room. At the end of the apartment, where Sal and Madge were seated, there was a small table. On it stood a large lamp, with an opaque63 globe, which, having a shade over it, threw a soft and subdued64 circle of light round the table, leaving the rest of the room in a kind of semi-darkness. Near this sat Madge and Sal, talking gaily, and away on the left-hand side they could see the door open, and a warm flood of light pouring in from the hall.
They had been talking together for some time, when Sal’s quick ear caught a footfall on the soft carpet, and, turning rapidly, she saw a tall figure advancing down the room. Madge saw it too, and started up in surprise on recognising her father. He was clothed in his dressing-gown, and carried some papers in his hand.
“Why, papa,” said Madge, in surprise. “I— ”
“Hush!” whispered Sal, grasping her arms. “He’s asleep.”
And so he was. In accordance with the dictates65 of the excited brain, the weary body had risen from the bed and wandered about the house. The two girls, drawing back into the shadow, watched him with bated breath as he came slowly down the room. In a few moments he was within the circle of light, and, moving noiselessly along, he laid the papers he carried on the table. They were in a large blue envelope much worn, with writing in red ink on it. Sal recognised it, at once as the one she had seen in the possession of the dead woman, and with an instinctive66 feeling that there was something wrong, she tried to draw Madge back, as she watched her father’s action with an intensity67 of feeling which held her spell-bound. Frettlby opened the envelope, and took therefrom a yellow, frayed68 piece of paper, which he spread out on the table. Madge bent69 forward to see it, but Sal, with a sudden terror drew her back.
“For God’s sake no,” she cried.
But it was too late; Madge had caught sight of the names on the paper — “Marriage — Rosanna Moore — Mark Frettlby” — and the whole awful truth flashed upon her. These were the papers Rosanna Moore had handed to Whyte. Whyte had been murdered by the man to whom the papers were of value —
“Oh! My father!”
She staggered blindly forward, and then, with one piercing shriek70, fell to the ground. In doing so, she struck against her father, who was still standing71 beside the table. Awakened72 suddenly, with that wild cry in his ears, he opened his eyes wide, put out feeble hands, as if to keep something back, and with a strangled cry fell dead on the floor beside his daughter. Sal, horror-struck, did not lose her presence of mind, but, snatching the papers off the table, she thrust them into her pocket, and then called aloud for the servants. But they, already attracted by Madge’s wild cry, came hurrying in, to find Mark Frettlby, the millionaire, lying dead, and his daughter in a faint beside her father’s corpse73.
点击收听单词发音
1 relentless | |
adj.残酷的,不留情的,无怜悯心的 | |
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2 deity | |
n.神,神性;被奉若神明的人(或物) | |
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3 nemesis | |
n.给以报应者,复仇者,难以对付的敌手 | |
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4 questionable | |
adj.可疑的,有问题的 | |
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5 puny | |
adj.微不足道的,弱小的 | |
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6 inevitable | |
adj.不可避免的,必然发生的 | |
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7 hierarchy | |
n.等级制度;统治集团,领导层 | |
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8 malicious | |
adj.有恶意的,心怀恶意的 | |
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9 relegated | |
v.使降级( relegate的过去式和过去分词 );使降职;转移;把…归类 | |
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10 deities | |
n.神,女神( deity的名词复数 );神祗;神灵;神明 | |
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11 scapegoat | |
n.替罪的羔羊,替人顶罪者;v.使…成为替罪羊 | |
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12 idol | |
n.偶像,红人,宠儿 | |
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13 gaily | |
adv.欢乐地,高兴地 | |
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14 repayment | |
n.偿还,偿还款;报酬 | |
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15 awakening | |
n.觉醒,醒悟 adj.觉醒中的;唤醒的 | |
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16 passionate | |
adj.热情的,热烈的,激昂的,易动情的,易怒的,性情暴躁的 | |
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17 exorbitant | |
adj.过分的;过度的 | |
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18 misery | |
n.痛苦,苦恼,苦难;悲惨的境遇,贫苦 | |
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19 immediate | |
adj.立即的;直接的,最接近的;紧靠的 | |
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20 infamy | |
n.声名狼藉,出丑,恶行 | |
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21 degradation | |
n.降级;低落;退化;陵削;降解;衰变 | |
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22 jeering | |
adj.嘲弄的,揶揄的v.嘲笑( jeer的现在分词 ) | |
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23 generosity | |
n.大度,慷慨,慷慨的行为 | |
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24 maliciousness | |
[法] 恶意 | |
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25 serenity | |
n.宁静,沉着,晴朗 | |
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26 chamber | |
n.房间,寝室;会议厅;议院;会所 | |
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27 profligacy | |
n.放荡,不检点,肆意挥霍 | |
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28 feverish | |
adj.发烧的,狂热的,兴奋的 | |
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29 chimerical | |
adj.荒诞不经的,梦幻的 | |
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30 confession | |
n.自白,供认,承认 | |
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31 embitter | |
v.使苦;激怒 | |
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32 exculpate | |
v.开脱,使无罪 | |
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33 peculiar | |
adj.古怪的,异常的;特殊的,特有的 | |
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34 prosecutor | |
n.起诉人;检察官,公诉人 | |
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35 twilight | |
n.暮光,黄昏;暮年,晚期,衰落时期 | |
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36 scattered | |
adj.分散的,稀疏的;散步的;疏疏落落的 | |
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37 laconically | |
adv.简短地,简洁地 | |
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38 apprehensively | |
adv.担心地 | |
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39 hesitation | |
n.犹豫,踌躇 | |
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40 conceal | |
v.隐藏,隐瞒,隐蔽 | |
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41 caress | |
vt./n.爱抚,抚摸 | |
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42 recoil | |
vi.退却,退缩,畏缩 | |
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43 cynical | |
adj.(对人性或动机)怀疑的,不信世道向善的 | |
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44 endorsed | |
vt.& vi.endorse的过去式或过去分词形式v.赞同( endorse的过去式和过去分词 );在(尤指支票的)背面签字;在(文件的)背面写评论;在广告上说本人使用并赞同某产品 | |
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45 reticent | |
adj.沉默寡言的;言不如意的 | |
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46 scotch | |
n.伤口,刻痕;苏格兰威士忌酒;v.粉碎,消灭,阻止;adj.苏格兰(人)的 | |
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47 presentiments | |
n.(对不祥事物的)预感( presentiment的名词复数 ) | |
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48 placid | |
adj.安静的,平和的 | |
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49 slumber | |
n.睡眠,沉睡状态 | |
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50 belied | |
v.掩饰( belie的过去式和过去分词 );证明(或显示)…为虚假;辜负;就…扯谎 | |
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51 gregarious | |
adj.群居的,喜好群居的 | |
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52 conundrum | |
n.谜语;难题 | |
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53 sociable | |
adj.好交际的,友好的,合群的 | |
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54 misanthrope | |
n.恨人类的人;厌世者 | |
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55 misanthropic | |
adj.厌恶人类的,憎恶(或蔑视)世人的;愤世嫉俗 | |
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56 mentor | |
n.指导者,良师益友;v.指导 | |
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57 irony | |
n.反语,冷嘲;具有讽刺意味的事,嘲弄 | |
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58 affluence | |
n.充裕,富足 | |
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59 gutter | |
n.沟,街沟,水槽,檐槽,贫民窟 | |
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60 besmirched | |
v.弄脏( besmirch的过去式和过去分词 );玷污;丑化;糟蹋(名誉等) | |
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61 amicably | |
adv.友善地 | |
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62 detested | |
v.憎恶,嫌恶,痛恨( detest的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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63 opaque | |
adj.不透光的;不反光的,不传导的;晦涩的 | |
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64 subdued | |
adj. 屈服的,柔和的,减弱的 动词subdue的过去式和过去分词 | |
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65 dictates | |
n.命令,规定,要求( dictate的名词复数 )v.大声讲或读( dictate的第三人称单数 );口授;支配;摆布 | |
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66 instinctive | |
adj.(出于)本能的;直觉的;(出于)天性的 | |
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67 intensity | |
n.强烈,剧烈;强度;烈度 | |
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68 frayed | |
adj.磨损的v.(使布、绳等)磨损,磨破( fray的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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69 bent | |
n.爱好,癖好;adj.弯的;决心的,一心的 | |
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70 shriek | |
v./n.尖叫,叫喊 | |
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71 standing | |
n.持续,地位;adj.永久的,不动的,直立的,不流动的 | |
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72 awakened | |
v.(使)醒( awaken的过去式和过去分词 );(使)觉醒;弄醒;(使)意识到 | |
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73 corpse | |
n.尸体,死尸 | |
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