‘You wicked old boy,’ Miss Wren6 would say to him, with a menacing forefinger7, ‘you’ll force me to run away from you, after all, you will; and then you’ll shake to bits, and there’ll be nobody to pick up the pieces!’
At this foreshadowing of a desolate8 decease, the wicked old boy would whine9 and whimper, and would sit shaking himself into the lowest of low spirits, until such time as he could shake himself out of the house and shake another threepennyworth into himself. But dead drunk or dead sober (he had come to such a pass that he was least alive in the latter state), it was always on the conscience of the paralytic10 scarecrow that he had betrayed his sharp parent for sixty threepennyworths of rum, which were all gone, and that her sharpness would infallibly detect his having done it, sooner or later. All things considered therefore, and addition made of the state of his body to the state of his mind, the bed on which Mr Dolls reposed11 was a bed of roses from which the flowers and leaves had entirely12 faded, leaving him to lie upon the thorns and stalks.
On a certain day, Miss Wren was alone at her work, with the house-door set open for coolness, and was trolling in a small sweet voice a mournful little song which might have been the song of the doll she was dressing13, bemoaning14 the brittleness15 and meltability of wax, when whom should she descry16 standing17 on the pavement, looking in at her, but Mr Fledgeby.
‘I thought it was you?’ said Fledgeby, coming up the two steps.
‘Did you?’ Miss Wren retorted. ‘And I thought it was you, young man. Quite a coincidence. You’re not mistaken, and I’m not mistaken. How clever we are!’
‘Well, and how are you?’ said Fledgeby.
‘I am pretty much as usual, sir,’ replied Miss Wren. ‘A very unfortunate parent, worried out of my life and senses by a very bad child.’
Fledgeby’s small eyes opened so wide that they might have passed for ordinary-sized eyes, as he stared about him for the very young person whom he supposed to be in question.
‘But you’re not a parent,’ said Miss Wren, ‘and consequently it’s of no use talking to you upon a family subject. — To what am I to attribute the honour and favour?’
‘To a wish to improve your acquaintance,’ Mr Fledgeby replied.
Miss Wren, stopping to bite her thread, looked at him very knowingly.
‘We never meet now,’ said Fledgeby; ‘do we?’
‘No,’ said Miss Wren, chopping off the word.
‘So I had a mind,’ pursued Fledgeby, ‘to come and have a talk with you about our dodging19 friend, the child of Israel.’
‘So HE gave you my address; did he?’ asked Miss Wren.
‘I got it out of him,’ said Fledgeby, with a stammer20.
‘You seem to see a good deal of him,’ remarked Miss Wren, with shrewd distrust. ‘A good deal of him you seem to see, considering.’
‘Yes, I do,’ said Fledgeby. ‘Considering.’
‘Haven’t you,’ inquired the dressmaker, bending over the doll on which her art was being exercised, ‘done interceding21 with him yet?’
‘No,’ said Fledgeby, shaking his head.
‘La! Been interceding with him all this time, and sticking to him still?’ said Miss Wren, busy with her work.
‘Sticking to him is the word,’ said Fledgeby.
Miss Wren pursued her occupation with a concentrated air, and asked, after an interval22 of silent industry:
‘Are you in the army?’
‘Not exactly,’ said Fledgeby, rather flattered by the question.
‘Navy?’ asked Miss Wren.
‘N— no,’ said Fledgeby. He qualified23 these two negatives, as if he were not absolutely in either service, but was almost in both.
‘What are you then?’ demanded Miss Wren.
‘I am a gentleman, I am,’ said Fledgeby.
‘Oh!’ assented24 Jenny, screwing up her mouth with an appearance of conviction. ‘Yes, to be sure! That accounts for your having so much time to give to interceding. But only to think how kind and friendly a gentleman you must be!’
Mr Fledgeby found that he was skating round a board marked Dangerous, and had better cut out a fresh track. ‘Let’s get back to the dodgerest of the dodgers,’ said he. ‘What’s he up to in the case of your friend the handsome gal25? He must have some object. What’s his object?’
‘Cannot undertake to say, sir, I am sure!’ returned Miss Wren, composedly.
‘He won’t acknowledge where she’s gone,’ said Fledgeby; ‘and I have a fancy that I should like to have another look at her. Now I know he knows where she is gone.’
‘Cannot undertake to say, sir, I am sure!’ Miss Wren again rejoined.
‘And you know where she is gone,’ hazarded Fledgeby.
‘Cannot undertake to say, sir, really,’ replied Miss Wren.
The quaint18 little chin met Mr Fledgeby’s gaze with such a baffling hitch26, that that agreeable gentleman was for some time at a loss how to resume his fascinating part in the dialogue. At length he said:
‘Miss Jenny! — That’s your name, if I don’t mistake?’
‘Probably you don’t mistake, sir,’ was Miss Wren’s cool answer; ‘because you had it on the best authority. Mine, you know.’
‘Miss Jenny! Instead of coming up and being dead, let’s come out and look alive. It’ll pay better, I assure you,’ said Fledgeby, bestowing27 an inveigling28 twinkle or two upon the dressmaker. ‘You’ll find it pay better.’
‘Perhaps,’ said Miss Jenny, holding out her doll at arm’s length, and critically contemplating30 the effect of her art with her scissors on her lips and her head thrown back, as if her interest lay there, and not in the conversation; ‘perhaps you’ll explain your meaning, young man, which is Greek to me. — You must have another touch of blue in your trimming, my dear.’ Having addressed the last remark to her fair client, Miss Wren proceeded to snip31 at some blue fragments that lay before her, among fragments of all colours, and to thread a needle from a skein of blue silk.
‘Look here,’ said Fledgeby. —‘Are you attending?’
‘I am attending, sir,’ replied Miss Wren, without the slightest appearance of so doing. ‘Another touch of blue in your trimming, my dear.’
‘Well, look here,’ said Fledgeby, rather discouraged by the circumstances under which he found himself pursuing the conversation. ‘If you’re attending —’
(’Light blue, my sweet young lady,’ remarked Miss Wren, in a sprightly32 tone, ‘being best suited to your fair complexion33 and your flaxen curls.’)
‘I say, if you’re attending,’ proceeded Fledgeby, ‘it’ll pay better in this way. It’ll lead in a roundabout manner to your buying damage and waste of Pubsey and Co. at a nominal34 price, or even getting it for nothing.’
‘Aha!’ thought the dressmaker. ‘But you are not so roundabout, Little Eyes, that I don’t notice your answering for Pubsey and Co. after all! Little Eyes, Little Eyes, you’re too cunning by half.’
‘And I take it for granted,’ pursued Fledgeby, ‘that to get the most of your materials for nothing would be well worth your while, Miss Jenny?’
‘You may take it for granted,’ returned the dressmaker with many knowing nods, ‘that it’s always well worth my while to make money.’
‘Now,’ said Fledgeby approvingly, ‘you’re answering to a sensible purpose. Now, you’re coming out and looking alive! So I make so free, Miss Jenny, as to offer the remark, that you and Judah were too thick together to last. You can’t come to be intimate with such a deep file as Judah without beginning to see a little way into him, you know,’ said Fledgeby with a wink29.
‘I must own,’ returned the dressmaker, with her eyes upon her work, ‘that we are not good friends at present.’
‘I know you’re not good friends at present,’ said Fledgeby. ‘I know all about it. I should like to pay off Judah, by not letting him have his own deep way in everything. In most things he’ll get it by hook or by crook35, but — hang it all! — don’t let him have his own deep way in everything. That’s too much.’ Mr Fledgeby said this with some display of indignant warmth, as if he was counsel in the cause for Virtue36.
‘How can I prevent his having his own way?’ began the dressmaker.
‘Deep way, I called it,’ said Fledgeby.
‘— His own deep way, in anything?’
‘I’ll tell you,’ said Fledgeby. ‘I like to hear you ask it, because it’s looking alive. It’s what I should expect to find in one of your sagacious understanding. Now, candidly37.’
‘Eh?’ cried Miss Jenny.
‘I said, now candidly,’ Mr Fledgeby explained, a little put out.
‘Oh-h!’
‘I should be glad to countermine him, respecting the handsome gal, your friend. He means something there. You may depend upon it, Judah means something there. He has a motive38, and of course his motive is a dark motive. Now, whatever his motive is, it’s necessary to his motive’— Mr Fledgeby’s constructive39 powers were not equal to the avoidance of some tautology40 here —‘that it should be kept from me, what he has done with her. So I put it to you, who know: What HAS he done with her? I ask no more. And is that asking much, when you understand that it will pay?’
Miss Jenny Wren, who had cast her eyes upon the bench again after her last interruption, sat looking at it, needle in hand but not working, for some moments. She then briskly resumed her work, and said with a sidelong glance of her eyes and chin at Mr Fledgeby:
‘Where d’ye live?’
‘Albany, Piccadilly,’ replied Fledgeby.
‘When are you at home?’
‘When you like.’
‘Breakfast-time?’ said Jenny, in her abruptest and shortest manner.
‘No better time in the day,’ said Fledgeby.
‘I’ll look in upon you to-morrow, young man. Those two ladies,’ pointing to dolls, ‘have an appointment in Bond Street at ten precisely41. When I’ve dropped ‘em there, I’ll drive round to you. With a weird42 little laugh, Miss Jenny pointed43 to her crutch-stick as her equipage.
‘This is looking alive indeed!’ cried Fledgeby, rising.
‘Mark you! I promise you nothing,’ said the dolls’ dressmaker, dabbing44 two dabs45 at him with her needle, as if she put out both his eyes.
‘No no. I understand,’ returned Fledgeby. ‘The damage and waste question shall be settled first. It shall be made to pay; don’t you be afraid. Good-day, Miss Jenny.’
‘Good-day, young man.’
Mr Fledgeby’s prepossessing form withdrew itself; and the little dressmaker, clipping and snipping46 and stitching, and stitching and snipping and clipping, fell to work at a great rate; musing47 and muttering all the time.
‘Misty48, misty, misty. Can’t make it out. Little Eyes and the wolf in a conspiracy49? Or Little Eyes and the wolf against one another? Can’t make it out. My poor Lizzie, have they both designs against you, either way? Can’t make it out. Is Little Eyes Pubsey, and the wolf Co? Can’t make it out. Pubsey true to Co, and Co to Pubsey? Pubsey false to Co, and Co to Pubsey? Can’t make it out. What said Little Eyes? “Now, candidly?” Ah! However the cat jumps, HE’S a liar50. That’s all I can make out at present; but you may go to bed in the Albany, Piccadilly, with THAT for your pillow, young man!’ Thereupon, the little dressmaker again dabbed51 out his eyes separately, and making a loop in the air of her thread and deftly52 catching53 it into a knot with her needle, seemed to bowstring him into the bargain.
For the terrors undergone by Mr Dolls that evening when his little parent sat profoundly meditating54 over her work, and when he imagined himself found out, as often as she changed her attitude, or turned her eyes towards him, there is no adequate name. Moreover it was her habit to shake her head at that wretched old boy whenever she caught his eye as he shivered and shook. What are popularly called ‘the trembles’ being in full force upon him that evening, and likewise what are popularly called ‘the horrors,’ he had a very bad time of it; which was not made better by his being so remorseful55 as frequently to moan ‘Sixty threepennorths.’ This imperfect sentence not being at all intelligible56 as a confession57, but sounding like a Gargantuan58 order for a dram, brought him into new difficulties by occasioning his parent to pounce59 at him in a more than usually snappish manner, and to overwhelm him with bitter reproaches.
What was a bad time for Mr Dolls, could not fail to be a bad time for the dolls’ dressmaker. However, she was on the alert next morning, and drove to Bond Street, and set down the two ladies punctually, and then directed her equipage to conduct her to the Albany. Arrived at the doorway60 of the house in which Mr Fledgeby’s chambers61 were, she found a lady standing there in a travelling dress, holding in her hand — of all things in the world — a gentleman’s hat.
‘You want some one?’ said the lady in a stern manner.
‘I am going up stairs to Mr Fledgeby’s.’
‘You cannot do that at this moment. There is a gentleman with him. I am waiting for the gentleman. His business with Mr Fledgeby will very soon be transacted62, and then you can go up. Until the gentleman comes down, you must wait here.’
While speaking, and afterwards, the lady kept watchfully63 between her and the staircase, as if prepared to oppose her going up, by force. The lady being of a stature64 to stop her with a hand, and looking mightily65 determined66, the dressmaker stood still.
‘Well? Why do you listen?’ asked the lady.
‘I am not listening,’ said the dressmaker.
‘What do you hear?’ asked the lady, altering her phrase.
‘Is it a kind of a spluttering somewhere?’ said the dressmaker, with an inquiring look.
‘Mr Fledgeby in his shower-bath, perhaps,’ remarked the lady, smiling.
‘And somebody’s beating a carpet, I think?’
‘Mr Fledgeby’s carpet, I dare say,’ replied the smiling lady.
Miss Wren had a reasonably good eye for smiles, being well accustomed to them on the part of her young friends, though their smiles mostly ran smaller than in nature. But she had never seen so singular a smile as that upon this lady’s face. It twitched67 her nostrils68 open in a remarkable69 manner, and contracted her lips and eyebrows70. It was a smile of enjoyment71 too, though of such a fierce kind that Miss Wren thought she would rather not enjoy herself than do it in that way.
‘Well!’ said the lady, watching her. ‘What now?’
‘I hope there’s nothing the matter!’ said the dressmaker.
‘Where?’ inquired the lady.
‘I don’t know where,’ said Miss Wren, staring about her. ‘But I never heard such odd noises. Don’t you think I had better call somebody?’
‘I think you had better not,’ returned the lady with a significant frown, and drawing closer.
On this hint, the dressmaker relinquished72 the idea, and stood looking at the lady as hard as the lady looked at her. Meanwhile the dressmaker listened with amazement73 to the odd noises which still continued, and the lady listened too, but with a coolness in which there was no trace of amazement.
Soon afterwards, came a slamming and banging of doors; and then came running down stairs, a gentleman with whiskers, and out of breath, who seemed to be red-hot.
‘Is your business done, Alfred?’ inquired the lady.
‘Very thoroughly74 done,’ replied the gentleman, as he took his hat from her.
‘You can go up to Mr Fledgeby as soon as you like,’ said the lady, moving haughtily75 away.
‘Oh! And you can take these three pieces of stick with you,’ added the gentleman politely, ‘and say, if you please, that they come from Mr Alfred Lammle, with his compliments on leaving England. Mr Alfred Lammle. Be so good as not to forget the name.’
The three pieces of stick were three broken and frayed76 fragments of a stout77 lithe78 cane79. Miss Jenny taking them wonderingly, and the gentleman repeating with a grin, ‘Mr Alfred Lammle, if you’ll be so good. Compliments, on leaving England,’ the lady and gentleman walked away quite deliberately80, and Miss Jenny and her crutch-stick went up stairs. ‘Lammle, Lammle, Lammle?’ Miss Jenny repeated as she panted from stair to stair, ‘where have I heard that name? Lammle, Lammle? I know! Saint Mary Axe!’
With a gleam of new intelligence in her sharp face, the dolls’ dressmaker pulled at Fledgeby’s bell. No one answered; but, from within the chambers, there proceeded a continuous spluttering sound of a highly singular and unintelligible81 nature.
‘Good gracious! Is Little Eyes choking?’ cried Miss Jenny.
Pulling at the bell again and getting no reply, she pushed the outer door, and found it standing ajar. No one being visible on her opening it wider, and the spluttering continuing, she took the liberry of opening an inner door, and then beheld82 the extraordinary spectacle of Mr Fledgeby in a shirt, a pair of Turkish trousers, and a Turkish cap, rolling over and over on his own carpet, and spluttering wonderfully.
‘Oh Lord!’ gasped83 Mr Fledgeby. ‘Oh my eye! Stop thief! I am strangling. Fire! Oh my eye! A glass of water. Give me a glass of water. Shut the door. Murder! Oh Lord!’ And then rolled and spluttered more than ever.
Hurrying into another room, Miss Jenny got a glass of water, and brought it for Fledgeby’s relief: who, gasping84, spluttering, and rattling85 in his throat betweenwhiles, drank some water, and laid his head faintly on her arm.
‘Oh my eye!’ cried Fledgehy, struggling anew. ‘It’s salt and snuff. It’s up my nose, and down my throat, and in my wind-pipe. Ugh! Ow! Ow! Ow! Ah — h — h — h!’ And here, crowing fearfully, with his eyes starting out of his head, appeared to be contending with every mortal disease incidental to poultry86.
‘And Oh my Eye, I’m so sore!’ cried Fledgeby, starting, over on his back, in a spasmodic way that caused the dressmaker to retreat to the wall. ‘Oh I smart so! Do put something to my back and arms, and legs and shoulders. Ugh! It’s down my throat again and can’t come up. Ow! Ow! Ow! Ah — h — h — h! Oh I smart so!’ Here Mr Fledgeby bounded up, and bounded down, and went rolling over and over again.
The dolls’ dressmaker looked on until he rolled himself into a corner with his Turkish slippers87 uppermost, and then, resolving in the first place to address her ministration to the salt and snuff, gave him more water and slapped his back. But, the latter application was by no means a success, causing Mr Fledgeby to scream, and to cry out, ‘Oh my eye! don’t slap me! I’m covered with weales and I smart so!’
However, he gradually ceased to choke and crow, saving at intervals88, and Miss Jenny got him into an easy-chair: where, with his eyes red and watery89, with his features swollen90, and with some half-dozen livid bars across his face, he presented a most rueful sight.
‘What ever possessed91 you to take salt and snuff, young man?’ inquired Miss Jenny.
‘I didn’t take it,’ the dismal92 youth replied. ‘It was crammed93 into my mouth.’
‘Who crammed it?’ asked Miss Jenny.
‘He did,’ answered Fledgeby. ‘The assassin. Lammle. He rubbed it into my mouth and up my nose and down my throat — Ow! Ow! Ow! Ah — h — h — h! Ugh! — to prevent my crying out, and then cruelly assaulted me.’
‘With this?’ asked Miss Jenny, showing the pieces of cane.
‘That’s the weapon,’ said Fledgeby, eyeing it with the air of an acquaintance. ‘He broke it over me. Oh I smart so! How did you come by it?’
‘When he ran down stairs and joined the lady he had left in the hall with his hat’— Miss Jenny began.
‘Oh!’ groaned94 Mr Fledgeby, writhing95, ‘she was holding his hat, was she? I might have known she was in it.’
‘When he came down stairs and joined the lady who wouldn’t let me come up, he gave me the pieces for you, and I was to say, “With Mr Alfred Lammle’s compliments on his leaving England.”’ Miss Jenny said it with such spiteful satisfaction, and such a hitch of her chin and eyes as might have added to Mr Fledgehy’s miseries96, if he could have noticed either, in his bodily pain with his hand to his head.
‘Shall I go for the police?’ inquired Miss Jenny, with a nimble start towards the door.
‘Stop! No, don’t!’ cried Fledgeby. ‘Don’t, please. We had better keep it quiet. Will you be so good as shut the door? Oh I do smart so!’
In testimony97 of the extent to which he smarted, Mr Fledgeby came wallowing out of the easy-chair, and took another roll on the carpet.
Now the door’s shut,’ said Mr Fledgeby, sitting up in anguish98, with his Turkish cap half on and half off, and the bars on his face getting bluer, ‘do me the kindness to look at my back and shoulders. They must be in an awful state, for I hadn’t got my dressing-gown on, when the brute99 came rushing in. Cut my shirt away from the collar; there’s a pair of scissors on that table. Oh!’ groaned Mr Fledgeby, with his hand to his head again. ‘How I do smart, to be sure!’
‘There?’ inquired Miss Jenny, alluding100 to the back and shoulders.
‘Oh Lord, yes!’ moaned Fledgeby, rocking himself. ‘And all over! Everywhere!’
The busy little dressmaker quickly snipped101 the shirt away, and laid bare the results of as furious and sound a thrashing as even Mr Fledgeby merited. ‘You may well smart, young man!’ exclaimed Miss Jenny. And stealthily rubbed her little hands behind him, and poked102 a few exultant103 pokes104 with her two forefingers105 over the crown of his head.
‘What do you think of vinegar and brown paper?’ inquired the suffering Fledgeby, still rocking and moaning. ‘Does it look as if vinegar and brown paper was the sort of application?’
‘Yes,’ said Miss Jenny, with a silent chuckle106. ‘It looks as if it ought to be Pickled.’
Mr Fledgeby collapsed107 under the word ‘Pickled,’ and groaned again. ‘My kitchen is on this floor,’ he said; ‘you’ll find brown paper in a dresser-drawer there, and a bottle of vinegar on a shelf. Would you have the kindness to make a few plasters and put ‘em on? It can’t be kept too quiet.’
‘One, two — hum — five, six. You’ll want six,’ said the dress-maker.
‘There’s smart enough,’ whimpered Mr Fledgeby, groaning108 and writhing again, ‘for sixty.’
Miss Jenny repaired to the kitchen, scissors in hand, found the brown paper and found the vinegar, and skilfully109 cut out and steeped six large plasters. When they were all lying ready on the dresser, an idea occurred to her as she was about to gather them up.
‘I think,’ said Miss Jenny with a silent laugh, ‘he ought to have a little pepper? Just a few grains? I think the young man’s tricks and manners make a claim upon his friends for a little pepper?’
Mr Fledgeby’s evil star showing her the pepper-box on the chimneypiece, she climbed upon a chair, and got it down, and sprinkled all the plasters with a judicious110 hand. She then went back to Mr Fledgeby, and stuck them all on him: Mr Fledgeby uttering a sharp howl as each was put in its place.
‘There, young man!’ said the dolls’ dressmaker. ‘Now I hope you feel pretty comfortable?’
Apparently111, Mr Fledgeby did not, for he cried by way of answer, ‘Oh — h how I do smart!’
Miss Jenny got his Persian gown upon him, extinguished his eyes crookedly112 with his Persian cap, and helped him to his bed: upon which he climbed groaning. ‘Business between you and me being out of the question to-day, young man, and my time being precious,’ said Miss Jenny then, ‘I’ll make myself scarce. Are you comfortable now?’
‘Oh my eye!’ cried Mr Fledgeby. ‘No, I ain’t. Oh — h — h! how I do smart!’
The last thing Miss Jenny saw, as she looked back before closing the room door, was Mr Fledgeby in the act of plunging113 and gambolling114 all over his bed, like a porpoise115 or dolphin in its native element. She then shut the bedroom door, and all the other doors, and going down stairs and emerging from the Albany into the busy streets, took omnibus for Saint Mary Axe: pressing on the road all the gaily-dressed ladies whom she could see from the window, and making them unconscious lay-figures for dolls, while she mentally cut them out and basted116 them.
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1
axe
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| n.斧子；v.用斧头砍，削减 | |
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secluded
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| adj.与世隔绝的；隐退的；偏僻的v.使隔开，使隐退( seclude的过去式和过去分词) | |
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consultation
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| n.咨询；商量；商议；会议 | |
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decided
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| adj.决定了的，坚决的；明显的，明确的 | |
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dilated
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| adj.加宽的，扩大的v.（使某物）扩大，膨胀，张大( dilate的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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wren
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| n.鹪鹩；英国皇家海军女子服务队成员 | |
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forefinger
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| n.食指 | |
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desolate
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| adj.荒凉的，荒芜的；孤独的，凄凉的；v.使荒芜，使孤寂 | |
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whine
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| v.哀号，号哭；n.哀鸣 | |
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paralytic
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| adj. 瘫痪的 n. 瘫痪病人 | |
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reposed
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| v.将（手臂等）靠在某人（某物）上( repose的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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entirely
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| ad.全部地，完整地；完全地，彻底地 | |
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dressing
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| n.(食物)调料；包扎伤口的用品，敷料 | |
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bemoaning
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| v.为（某人或某事）抱怨( bemoan的现在分词 )；悲悼；为…恸哭；哀叹 | |
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brittleness
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| n.脆性，脆度，脆弱性 | |
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descry
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| v.远远看到；发现；责备 | |
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standing
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| n.持续，地位；adj.永久的，不动的，直立的，不流动的 | |
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quaint
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| adj.古雅的，离奇有趣的，奇怪的 | |
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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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stammer
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| n.结巴，口吃；v.结结巴巴地说 | |
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interceding
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| v.斡旋，调解( intercede的现在分词 )；说情 | |
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interval
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| n.间隔，间距；幕间休息，中场休息 | |
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qualified
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| adj.合格的，有资格的，胜任的，有限制的 | |
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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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gal
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| n.姑娘，少女 | |
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hitch
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| v.免费搭(车旅行)；系住；急提；n.故障；急拉 | |
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bestowing
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| 砖窑中砖堆上层已烧透的砖 | |
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inveigling
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| v.诱骗，引诱( inveigle的现在分词 ) | |
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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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contemplating
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| 深思，细想，仔细考虑( contemplate的现在分词 )； 注视，凝视； 考虑接受（发生某事的可能性）； 深思熟虑，沉思，苦思冥想 | |
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31
snip
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| n.便宜货，廉价货，剪，剪断 | |
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32
sprightly
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| adj.愉快的，活泼的 | |
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complexion
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| n.肤色；情况，局面；气质，性格 | |
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nominal
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| adj.名义上的；(金额、租金)微不足道的 | |
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35
crook
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| v.使弯曲；n.小偷，骗子，贼；弯曲(处) | |
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virtue
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| n.德行，美德；贞操；优点；功效，效力 | |
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candidly
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| adv.坦率地，直率而诚恳地 | |
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motive
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| n.动机，目的；adv.发动的，运动的 | |
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39
constructive
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| adj.建设的，建设性的 | |
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40
tautology
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| n.无谓的重复；恒真命题 | |
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41
precisely
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| adv.恰好，正好，精确地，细致地 | |
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42
weird
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| adj.古怪的，离奇的；怪诞的，神秘而可怕的 | |
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43
pointed
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| adj.尖的，直截了当的 | |
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44
dabbing
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| 石面凿毛，灰泥抛毛 | |
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45
dabs
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| 少许( dab的名词复数 )； 是…能手； 做某事很在行； 在某方面技术熟练 | |
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46
snipping
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| n.碎片v.剪( snip的现在分词 ) | |
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47
musing
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| n. 沉思，冥想 adj. 沉思的, 冥想的 动词muse的现在分词形式 | |
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48
misty
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| adj.雾蒙蒙的，有雾的 | |
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49
conspiracy
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| n.阴谋，密谋，共谋 | |
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50
liar
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| n.说谎的人 | |
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51
dabbed
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| （用某物）轻触( dab的过去式和过去分词 )； 轻而快地擦掉（或抹掉）； 快速擦拭； （用某物）轻而快地涂上（或点上）… | |
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52
deftly
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| adv.灵巧地，熟练地，敏捷地 | |
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53
catching
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| adj.易传染的，有魅力的，迷人的，接住 | |
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54
meditating
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| a.沉思的，冥想的 | |
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remorseful
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| adj.悔恨的 | |
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56
intelligible
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| adj.可理解的，明白易懂的，清楚的 | |
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57
confession
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| n.自白，供认，承认 | |
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58
gargantuan
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| adj.巨大的，庞大的 | |
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59
pounce
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| n.猛扑；v.猛扑，突然袭击，欣然同意 | |
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doorway
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| n.门口，(喻)入门；门路，途径 | |
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61
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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transacted
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| v.办理（业务等）( transact的过去式和过去分词 )；交易，谈判 | |
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watchfully
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| 警惕地，留心地 | |
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stature
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| n.（高度）水平，（高度）境界，身高，身材 | |
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mightily
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| ad.强烈地；非常地 | |
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determined
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| adj.坚定的；有决心的 | |
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twitched
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| vt.& vi.（使）抽动，（使）颤动（twitch的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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68
nostrils
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| 鼻孔( nostril的名词复数 ) | |
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remarkable
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| adj.显著的，异常的，非凡的，值得注意的 | |
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eyebrows
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| 眉毛( eyebrow的名词复数 ) | |
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71
enjoyment
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| n.乐趣；享有；享用 | |
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relinquished
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| 交出，让给( relinquish的过去式和过去分词 )； 放弃 | |
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amazement
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| n.惊奇，惊讶 | |
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thoroughly
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| adv.完全地，彻底地，十足地 | |
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haughtily
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| adv. 傲慢地, 高傲地 | |
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76
frayed
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| 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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lithe
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| adj.(指人、身体)柔软的，易弯的 | |
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79
cane
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| n.手杖，细长的茎，藤条；v.以杖击，以藤编制的 | |
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deliberately
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| adv.审慎地；蓄意地；故意地 | |
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81
unintelligible
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| adj.无法了解的，难解的，莫明其妙的 | |
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82
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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83
gasped
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| v.喘气( gasp的过去式和过去分词 )；喘息；倒抽气；很想要 | |
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84
gasping
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| adj. 气喘的, 痉挛的 动词gasp的现在分词 | |
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85
rattling
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| adj. 格格作响的, 活泼的, 很好的 adv. 极其, 很, 非常 动词rattle的现在分词 | |
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86
poultry
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| n.家禽，禽肉 | |
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87
slippers
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| n. 拖鞋 | |
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88
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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89
watery
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| adj.有水的，水汪汪的；湿的，湿润的 | |
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90
swollen
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| adj.肿大的，水涨的；v.使变大，肿胀 | |
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91
possessed
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| adj.疯狂的；拥有的，占有的 | |
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dismal
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| adj.阴沉的，凄凉的，令人忧郁的，差劲的 | |
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crammed
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| adj.塞满的，挤满的；大口地吃；快速贪婪地吃v.把…塞满；填入；临时抱佛脚( cram的过去式) | |
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94
groaned
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| v.呻吟( groan的过去式和过去分词 )；发牢骚；抱怨；受苦 | |
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95
writhing
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| （因极度痛苦而）扭动或翻滚( writhe的现在分词 ) | |
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96
miseries
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| n.痛苦( misery的名词复数 )；痛苦的事；穷困；常发牢骚的人 | |
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97
testimony
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| n.证词；见证，证明 | |
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98
anguish
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| n.(尤指心灵上的)极度痛苦，烦恼 | |
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99
brute
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| n.野兽，兽性 | |
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100
alluding
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| 提及，暗指( allude的现在分词 ) | |
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101
snipped
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| v.剪( snip的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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102
poked
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| v.伸出( poke的过去式和过去分词 )；戳出；拨弄；与（某人）性交 | |
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103
exultant
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| adj.欢腾的，狂欢的，大喜的 | |
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104
pokes
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| v.伸出( poke的第三人称单数 )；戳出；拨弄；与（某人）性交 | |
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105
forefingers
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| n.食指( forefinger的名词复数 ) | |
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106
chuckle
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| vi.／n.轻声笑，咯咯笑 | |
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107
collapsed
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| adj.倒塌的 | |
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108
groaning
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| adj. 呜咽的, 呻吟的 动词groan的现在分词形式 | |
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109
skilfully
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| adv. (美skillfully)熟练地 | |
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110
judicious
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| adj.明智的，明断的，能作出明智决定的 | |
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111
apparently
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| adv.显然地；表面上，似乎 | |
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112
crookedly
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| adv. 弯曲地，不诚实地 | |
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113
plunging
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| adj.跳进的，突进的v.颠簸( plunge的现在分词 )；暴跌；骤降；突降 | |
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114
gambolling
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| v.蹦跳，跳跃，嬉戏( gambol的现在分词 ) | |
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115
porpoise
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| n.鼠海豚 | |
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116
basted
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| v.打( baste的过去式和过去分词 )；粗缝；痛斥；（烤肉等时）往上抹[浇]油 | |
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