“I shouldn’t think you would find the least difficulty in that,” Hyacinth replied.
“Oh, if one wants anything very much, it’s sure to be difficult. Every one isn’t as obliging as you.”
Hyacinth could think, immediately, of no proper rejoinder to this; but the old lady saved him the trouble by declaring, with a foreign accent, “I think you were most extraordinarily39 good-natured. I had no idea you would come – to two strange women.”
“Yes, we are strange women,” said the Princess, musingly40.
“It’s not true that she finds things difficult; she makes every one do everything,” her companion went on.
The Princess glanced at her; then remarked to Hyacinth, “Her name is Madame Grandoni.” Her tone was not familiar, but there was a friendly softness in it, as if he had really taken so much trouble for them that it was only just he should be entertained a little at their expense. It seemed to imply, also, that Madame Grandoni’s fitness for supplying such entertainment was obvious.
“But I am not Italian – ah no!” the old lady cried. “In spite of my name, I am an honest, ugly, unfortunate German. But it doesn’t matter. She also, with such a name, isn’t Italian, either. It’s an accident; the world is full of accidents. But she isn’t German, poor lady, any more.” Madame Grandoni appeared to have entered into the Princess’s view, and Hyacinth thought her exceedingly amusing. In a moment she added, “That was a very charming person you were with.”
“Yes, she is very charming,” Hyacinth replied, not sorry to have a chance to say it.
The Princess made no remark on this subject, and Hyacinth perceived not only that from her position in the box she could have had no glimpse of Millicent, but that she would never take up such an allusion41 as that. It was as if she had not heard it that she asked, “Do you consider the play very interesting?”
Hyacinth hesitated a moment, and then told the simple truth. “I must confess that I have lost the whole of this last act.”
“Ah, poor bothered young man!” cried Madame Grandoni. “You see – you see!”
“What do I see?” the Princess inquired. “If you are annoyed at being here now, you will like us later; probably, at least. We take a great interest in the things you care for. We take a great interest in the people,” the Princess went on.
“Oh, allow me, allow me, and speak only for yourself!” the elder lady interposed. “I take no interest in the people; I don’t understand them, and I know nothing about them. An honourable42 nature, of any class, I always respect it; but I will not pretend to a passion for the ignorant masses, because I have it not. Moreover, that doesn’t touch the gentleman.”
The Princess Casamassima had, evidently, a faculty43 of completely ignoring things of which she wished to take no account; it was not in the least the air of contempt, but a kind of thoughtful, tranquil44 absence, after which she came back to the point where she wished to be. She made no protest against her companion’s speech, but said to Hyacinth, as if she were only vaguely45 conscious that the old lady had been committing herself in some absurd way, “She lives with me; she is everything to me; she is the best woman in the world.”
“Yes, fortunately, with many superficial defects, I am very good,” Madame Grandoni remarked.
Hyacinth, by this time, was less embarrassed than when he presented himself to the Princess Casamassima, but he was not less mystified; he wondered afresh whether he were not being practised upon for some inconceivable end; so strange did it seem to him that two such fine ladies should, of their own movement, take the trouble to explain each other to a miserable46 little bookbinder. This idea made him flush; it was as if it had come over him that he had fallen into a trap. He was conscious that he looked frightened, and he was conscious the moment afterwards that the Princess noticed it. This was, apparently48, what made her say, “If you have lost so much of the play I ought to tell you what has happened.”
“Do you think he would follow that any more?” Madame Grandoni exclaimed.
“If you would tell me – if you would tell me —” And then Hyacinth stopped. He had been going to say, ‘If you would tell me what all this means and what you want of me, it would be more to the point!’ but the words died on his lips, and he sat staring, for the woman at his right was simply too beautiful. She was too beautiful to question, to judge by common logic49; and how could he know, moreover, what was natural to a person in that exaltation of grace and splendour? Perhaps it was her habit to send out every evening for some na?f stranger, to amuse her; perhaps that was the way the foreign aristocracy lived. There was no sharpness in her face, at the present moment at least; there was nothing but luminous50 sweetness, yet she looked as if she knew what was going on in his mind. She made no eager attempt to reassure51 him, but there was a world of delicate consideration in the tone in which she said, “Do you know, I am afraid I have already forgotten what they have been doing in the play? It’s terribly complicated; some one or other was hurled52 over a precipice53.”
“Ah, you’re a brilliant pair,” Madame Grandoni remarked, with a laugh of long experience. “I could describe everything. The person who was hurled over the precipice was the virtuous54 hero, and you will see, in the next act, that he was only slightly bruised55.”
“Don’t describe anything; I have so much to ask.” Hyacinth had looked away, in tacit deprecation, at hearing himself ‘paired’ with the Princess, and he felt that she was watching him. “What do you think of Captain Sholto?” she went on, suddenly, to his surprise, if anything, in his position, could excite that sentiment more than anything else; and as he hesitated, not knowing what to say, she added, “Isn’t he a very curious type?”
“I know him very little,” Hyacinth replied; and he had no sooner uttered the words than it struck him they were far from brilliant – they were poor and flat, and very little calculated to satisfy the Princess. Indeed, he reflected that he had said nothing at all that could place him in a favourable56 light; so he continued, at a venture: “I mean, I have never seen him at home.” That sounded still more silly.
“At home? Oh, he is never at home; he is all over the world. To-night he was as likely to have been in Paraguay, for instance, as here. He is what they call a cosmopolite. I don’t know whether you know that species; very modern, more and more frequent, and exceedingly tiresome57. I prefer the Chinese! He had told me he had had a great deal of interesting talk with you. That was what made me say to him, ‘Oh, do ask him to come in and see me. A little interesting talk, that would be a change!’”
“She is very complimentary58 to me!” said Madame Grandoni.
“Ah, my dear, you and I, you know, we never talk: we understand each other without that!” Then the Princess pursued, addressing herself to Hyacinth, “Do you never admit women?”
“Admit women?”
“Into those séances – what do you call them? – those little meetings that Captain Sholto described to me. I should like so much to be present. Why not?”
“I haven’t seen any ladies,” Hyacinth said. “I don’t know whether it’s a rule, but I have seen nothing but men;” and he added, smiling, though he thought the dereliction rather serious, and couldn’t understand the part Captain Sholto was playing, nor, considering the grand company he kept, how he had originally secured admittance into the subversive59 little circle in Bloomsbury, “You know I’m not sure Captain Sholto ought to go about reporting our proceedings.”
“I see. Perhaps you think he’s a spy, or something of that sort.”
“No,” said Hyacinth, after a moment. “I think a spy would he more careful – would disguise himself more. Besides, after all, he has heard very little.” And Hyacinth smiled again.
“You mean he hasn’t really been behind the scenes?” the Princess asked, bending forward a little, and now covering the young man steadily60 with her deep, soft eyes, as if by this time he must have got used to her and wouldn’t flinch61 from such attention. “Of course he hasn’t, and he never will be; he knows that, and that it’s quite out of his power to tell any real secrets. What he repeated to me was interesting, but of course I could see that there was nothing the authorities, anywhere, could put their hand on. It was mainly the talk he had had with you which struck him so very much, and which struck me, as you see. Perhaps you didn’t know how he was drawing you out.”
“I am afraid that’s rather easy,” said Hyacinth, with perfect candour, as it came over him that he had chattered63, with a vengeance64, in Bloomsbury, and had thought it natural enough then that his sociable65 fellow-visitor should offer him cigars and attach importance to the views of a clever and original young artisan.
“I am not sure that I find it so! However, I ought to tell you that you needn’t have the least fear of Captain Sholto. He’s a perfectly66 honest man, so far as he goes; and even if you had trusted him much more than you appear to have done, he would be incapable67 of betraying you. However, don’t trust him: not because he’s not safe, but because — No matter, you will see for yourself. He has gone into that sort of thing simply to please me. I should tell you, merely to make you understand, that he would do anything for that. That’s his own affair. I wanted to know something, to learn something, to ascertain69 what really is going on; and for a woman everything of that sort is so difficult, especially for a woman in my position, who is known, and to whom every sort of bad faith is sure to be imputed70. So Sholto said he would look into the subject for me; poor man, he has had to look into so many subjects! What I particularly wanted was that he should make friends with some of the leading spirits, really characteristic types.” The Princess’s voice was low and rather deep, and her tone very quick; her manner of speaking was altogether new to her listener, for whom the pronunciation of her words and the very punctuation71 of her sentences were a kind of revelation of ‘society’.
“Surely Captain Sholto doesn’t suppose that I am a leading spirit!” Hyacinth exclaimed, with the determination not to be laughed at any more than he could help.
The Princess hesitated a moment; then she said, “He told me you were very original.”
“He doesn’t know, and – if you will allow me to say so – I don’t think you know. How should you? I am one of many thousands of young men of my class – you know, I suppose, what that is – in whose brains certain ideas are fermenting72. There is nothing original about me at all. I am very young and very ignorant; it’s only a few months since I began to talk of the possibility of a social revolution with men who have considered the whole ground much more than I have done. I’m a mere68 particle in the immensity of the people. All I pretend to is my good faith, and a great desire that justice shall be done.”
The Princess listened to him intently, and her attitude made him feel how little he, in comparison, expressed himself like a person who had the habit of conversation; he seemed to himself to stammer73 and emit common sounds. For a moment she said nothing, only looking at him with her pure smile. “I do draw you out!” she exclaimed, at last. “You are much more interesting to me than if you were an exception.” At these last words Hyacinth flinched74 a hair’s breadth; the movement was shown by his dropping his eyes. We know to what extent he really regarded himself as of the stuff of the common herd75. The Princess doubtless guessed it as well, for she quickly added, “At the same time, I can see that you are remarkable76 enough.”
“What do you think I am remarkable for?”
“Well, you have general ideas.”
“Every one has them to-day. They have them in Bloomsbury to a terrible degree. I have a friend (who understands the matter much better than I) who has no patience with them: he declares they are our danger and our bane. A few very special ideas – if they are the right ones – are what we want.”
“Who is your friend?” the Princess asked, abruptly77.
“Ah, Christina, Christina,” Madame Grandoni murmured from the other side of the box.
Christina took no notice of her, and Hyacinth, not understanding the warning, and only remembering how personal women always are, replied, “A young man who lives in Camberwell, an assistant at a wholesale78 chemist’s.”
If he had expected that this description of his friend was a bigger dose than his hostess would be able to digest, he was greatly mistaken. She seemed to look tenderly at the picture suggested by his words, and she immediately inquired whether the young man were also clever, and whether she might not hope to know him. Hadn’t Captain Sholto seen him; and if so, why hadn’t he spoken of him, too? When Hyacinth had replied that Captain Sholto had probably seen him, but that he believed he had had no particular conversation with him, the Princess inquired, with startling frankness, whether her visitor wouldn’t bring his friend, some day, to see her.
Hyacinth glanced at Madame Grandoni, but that worthy79 woman was engaged in a survey of the house, through an old-fashioned eye-glass with a long gilt80 handle. He had perceived, long before this, that the Princess Casamassima had no desire for vain phrases, and he had the good taste to feel that, from himself to such a personage, compliments, even if he had wished to pay them, would have had no suitability. “I don’t know whether he would be willing to come. He’s the sort of man that, in such a case, you can’t answer for.”
“That makes me want to know him all the more. But you’ll come yourself, at all events, eh?”
Poor Hyacinth murmured something about the unexpected honour; for, after all, he had a French heredity, and it was not so easy for him to make unadorned speeches. But Madame Grandoni, laying down her eye-glass, almost took the words out of his mouth, with the cheerful exhortation81, “Go and see her – go and see her once or twice. She will treat you like an angel.”
“You must think me very peculiar,” the Princess remarked, sadly.
“I don’t know what I think. It will take a good while.”
“I wish I could make you trust me – inspire you with confidence,” she went on. “I don’t mean only you, personally, but others who think as you do. You would find I would go with you – pretty far. I was answering just now for Captain Sholto; but who in the world is to answer for me?” And her sadness merged82 itself in a smile which appeared to Hyacinth extraordinarily magnanimous and touching83.
“Not I, my dear, I promise you!” her ancient companion ejaculated, with a laugh which made the people in the stalls look up at the box.
Her mirth was contagious84; it gave Hyacinth the audacity85 to say to her, “I would trust you, if you did!” though he felt, the next minute, that this was even a more familiar speech than if he had said he wouldn’t trust her.
“It comes, then, to the same thing,” the Princess went on. “She would not show herself with me in public if I were not respectable. If you knew more about me you would understand what has led me to turn my attention to the great social question. It is a long story, and the details wouldn’t interest you; but perhaps some day, if we have more talk, you will put yourself a little in my place. I am very serious, you know; I am not amusing myself with peeping and running away. I am convinced that we are living in a fool’s paradise, that the ground is heaving under our feet.”
“It’s not the ground, my dear; it’s you that are turning somersaults,” Madame Grandoni interposed.
“Ah, you, my friend, you have the happy faculty of believing what you like to believe. I have to believe what I see.”
“She wishes to throw herself into the revolution, to guide it, to enlighten it,” Madame Grandoni said to Hyacinth, speaking now with imperturbable86 gravity.
“I am sure she could direct it in any sense she would wish!” the young man responded, in a glow. The pure, high dignity with which the Princess had just spoken, and which appeared to cover a suppressed tremor87 of passion, set Hyacinth’s pulses throbbing88, and though he scarcely saw what she meant – her aspirations89 seeming so vague – her tone, her voice, her wonderful face, showed that she had a generous soul.
She answered his eager declaration with a serious smile and a melancholy90 head-shake. “I have no such pretensions, and my good old friend is laughing at me. Of course that is very easy; for what, in fact, can be more absurd, on the face of it, than for a woman with a title, with diamonds, with a carriage, with servants, with a position, as they call it, to sympathise with the upward struggles of those who are below? ‘Give all that up, and we’ll believe you,’ you have a right to say. I am ready to give them up the moment it will help the cause; I assure you that’s the least difficulty. I don’t want to teach, I want to learn; and, above all, I want to know à quoi m’en tenir. Are we on the eve of great changes, or are we not? Is everything that is gathering91 force, underground, in the dark, in the night, in little hidden rooms, out of sight of governments and policemen and idiotic92 ‘statesmen’ – heaven save them! – is all this going to burst forth93 some fine morning and set the world on fire? Or is it to sputter94 out and spend itself in vain conspiracies95, be dissipated in sterile96 heroisms and abortive97 isolated98 movements? I want to know à quoi m’en tenir,” she repeated, fixing her visitor with more brilliant eyes, as if he could tell her on the spot. Then, suddenly, she added in a totally different tone, “Excuse me, I have an idea you speak French. Didn’t Captain Sholto tell me so?”
“I have some little acquaintance with it,” Hyacinth murmured. “I have French blood in my veins99.”
She considered him as if he had proposed to her some kind of problem. “Yes, I can see that you are not le premier100 venu. Now, your friend, of whom you were speaking, is a chemist; and you, yourself – what is your occupation?”
“I’m just a bookbinder.”
“That must be delightful101. I wonder if you would bind47 some books for me.”
“You would have to bring them to our shop, and I can do there only the work that’s given out to me. I might manage it by myself, at home,” Hyacinth added, smiling.
“I should like that better. And what do you call home?”
“The place I live in, in the north of London: a little street you certainly never heard of.”
“What is it called?”
“Lomax Place, at your service,” said Hyacinth, laughing.
She laughed back at him, and he didn’t know whether her brightness or her gravity were the more charming. “No, I don’t think I have heard of it. I don’t know London very well; I haven’t lived here long. I have spent most of my life abroad. My husband is a foreigner, an Italian. We don’t live together much. I haven’t the manners of this country – not of any class; have I, eh? Oh, this country – there is a great deal to be said about it; and a great deal to be done, as you, of course, understand better than any one. But I want to know London; it interests me more than I can say – the huge, swarming102, smoky, human city. I mean real London, the people and all their sufferings and passions; not Park Lane and Bond Street. Perhaps you can help me – it would be a great kindness: that’s what I want to know men like you for. You see it isn’t idle, my having given you so much trouble to-night.”
“I shall be very glad to show you all I know. But it isn’t much, and above all it isn’t pretty,” said Hyacinth.
“Whom do you live with, in Lomax Place?” the Princess asked, by way of rejoinder to this.
“Captain Sholto is leaving the young lady – he is coming back here,” Madame Grandoni announced, inspecting the balcony with her instrument. The orchestra had been for some time playing the overture103 to the following act.
Hyacinth hesitated a moment. “I live with a dressmaker.”
“With a dressmaker? Do you mean – do you mean —?” And the Princess paused.
“Do you mean she’s your wife?” asked Madame Grandoni, humorously.
“Perhaps she gives you rooms,” remarked the Princess.
“How many do you think I have? She gives me everything, or she has done so in the past. She brought me up; she is the best little woman in the world.”
“You had better command a dress!” exclaimed Madame Grandoni.
“And your family, where are they?” the Princess continued.
“I have no family.”
“None at all?”
“None at all. I never had.”
“But the French blood that you speak of, and which I see perfectly in your face – you haven’t the English expression, or want of expression – that must have come to you through some one.”
“Yes, through my mother.”
“And she is dead?”
“Long ago.”
“That’s a great loss, because French mothers are usually so much to their sons.” The Princess looked at her painted fan a moment, as she opened and closed it; after which she said, “Well, then, you’ll come some day. We’ll arrange it.”
Hyacinth felt that the answer to this could be only a silent inclination104 of his little person; and to make it he rose from his chair. As he stood there, conscious that he had stayed long enough and yet not knowing exactly how to withdraw, the Princess, with her fan closed, resting upright on her knee, and her hands clasped on the end of it, turned up her strange, lovely eyes at him, and said –
“Do you think anything will occur soon?”
“Will occur?”
“That there will be a crisis – that you’ll make yourselves felt?”
In this beautiful woman’s face there was to Hyacinth’s bewildered perception something at once inspiring, tempting105 and mocking; and the effect of her expression was to make him say, rather clumsily, “I’ll try and ascertain;” as if she had asked him whether her carriage were at the door.
“I don’t quite know what you are talking about; but please don’t have it for another hour or two. I want to see what becomes of the Pearl!” Madame Grandoni interposed.
“Remember what I told you: I would give up everything – everything!” the Princess went on, looking up at the young man in the same way. Then she held out her hand, and this time he knew sufficiently what he was about to take it.
When he bade good-night to Madame Grandoni the old lady exclaimed to him, with a comical sigh, “Well, she is respectable!” and out in the lobby, when he had closed the door of the box behind him, he found himself echoing these words and repeating mechanically, “She is respectable!” They were on his lips as he stood, suddenly, face to face with Captain Sholto, who laid his hand on his shoulder once more and shook him a little, in that free yet insinuating106 manner for which this officer appeared to be remarkable.
“My dear fellow, you were born under a lucky star.”
“I never supposed it,” said Hyacinth, changing colour.
“Why, what in the world would you have? You have the faculty, the precious faculty, of inspiring women with an interest – but an interest!”
“Yes, ask them in the box there! I behaved like a cretin,” Hyacinth declared, overwhelmed now with a sense of opportunities missed.
“They won’t tell me that. And the lady upstairs?”
“Well,” said Hyacinth gravely, “what about her?”
The Captain considered him a moment. “She wouldn’t talk to me of anything but you. You may imagine how I liked it!”
“I don’t like it, either. But I must go up.”
“Oh yes, she counts the minutes. Such a charming person!” Captain Sholto added, with more propriety of tone. As Hyacinth left him he called after him, “Don’t be afraid – you’ll go far.”
When the young man took his place in the balcony beside Millicent this damsel gave him no greeting, nor asked any question about his adventures in the more aristocratic part of the house. She only turned her fine complexion107 upon him for some minutes, and as he himself was not in the mood to begin to chatter62, the silence continued – continued till after the curtain had risen on the last act of the play. Millicent’s attention was now, evidently, not at her disposal for the stage, and in the midst of a violent scene, which included pistol-shots and shrieks108, she said at last to her companion, “She’s a tidy lot, your Princess, by what I learn.”
“Pray, what do you know about her?”
“I know what that fellow told me.”
“And pray, what was that?”
“Well, she’s a bad ’un, as ever was. Her own husband has had to turn her out of the house.”
Hyacinth remembered the allusion the lady herself had made to her matrimonial situation; nevertheless, what he would have liked to reply to Miss Henning was that he didn’t believe a word of it. He withheld109 the doubt, and after a moment remarked quietly, “I don’t care.”
“You don’t care? Well, I do, then!” Millicent cried. And as it was impossible, in view of the performance and the jealous attention of their neighbours, to continue the conversation in this pitch, she contented110 herself with ejaculating, in a somewhat lower key, at the end of five minutes, during which she had been watching the stage, “Gracious, what dreadful common stuff!”
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pointed
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| adj.尖的，直截了当的 | |
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languish
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| vi.变得衰弱无力，失去活力，（植物等）凋萎 | |
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solitude
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| n. 孤独; 独居,荒僻之地,幽静的地方 | |
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contemplated
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| adj. 预期的 动词contemplate的过去分词形式 | |
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drawn
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| v.拖，拉，拔出；adj.憔悴的，紧张的 | |
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ledge
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mortification
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| n.耻辱，屈辱 | |
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beckoned
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| v.（用头或手的动作）示意，召唤( beckon的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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sufficiently
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| adv.足够地，充分地 | |
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fragrance
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| n.芬芳，香味，香气 | |
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averted
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| 防止，避免( avert的过去式和过去分词 )； 转移 | |
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proceedings
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| n.进程，过程，议程；诉讼(程序)；公报 | |
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lucidly
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| adv.清透地，透明地 | |
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glamour
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| n.魔力，魅力；vt.迷住 | |
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inspection
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spoke
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| n.（车轮的）辐条；轮辐；破坏某人的计划；阻挠某人的行动 v.讲，谈（speak的过去式）；说；演说；从某种观点来说 | |
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bestowed
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| 赠给，授予( bestow的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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majesty
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agitated
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pretensions
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celebrated
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eminence
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| n.卓越，显赫；高地，高处；名家 | |
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rococo
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spacious
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repose
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propriety
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fixed
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| adj.固定的，不变的，准备好的；(计算机)固定的 | |
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gauge
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dame
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huddled
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31
protruding
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| v.（使某物）伸出，（使某物）突出( protrude的现在分词 )；凸 | |
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jovial
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| adj.快乐的，好交际的 | |
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serene
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| adj. 安详的，宁静的，平静的 | |
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discomfort
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| n.不舒服，不安，难过，困难，不方便 | |
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descended
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| a.为...后裔的，出身于...的 | |
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destined
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| adj.命中注定的；(for)以…为目的地的 | |
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eminent
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| adj.显赫的，杰出的，有名的，优良的 | |
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kindly
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| adj.和蔼的，温和的，爽快的；adv.温和地，亲切地 | |
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extraordinarily
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| adv.格外地；极端地 | |
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musingly
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| adv.沉思地，冥想地 | |
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41
allusion
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| n.暗示，间接提示 | |
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42
honourable
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| adj.可敬的；荣誉的，光荣的 | |
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faculty
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| n.才能；学院，系；(学院或系的)全体教学人员 | |
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tranquil
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| adj. 安静的, 宁静的, 稳定的, 不变的 | |
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vaguely
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| adv.含糊地，暖昧地 | |
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miserable
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| adj.悲惨的，痛苦的；可怜的，糟糕的 | |
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bind
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| vt.捆，包扎；装订；约束；使凝固；vi.变硬 | |
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apparently
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| adv.显然地；表面上，似乎 | |
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logic
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| n.逻辑(学)；逻辑性 | |
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luminous
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| adj.发光的，发亮的；光明的；明白易懂的；有启发的 | |
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reassure
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| v.使放心，使消除疑虑 | |
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52
hurled
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| v.猛投，用力掷( hurl的过去式和过去分词 )；大声叫骂 | |
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precipice
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| n.悬崖，危急的处境 | |
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virtuous
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| adj.有品德的，善良的，贞洁的，有效力的 | |
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bruised
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| [医]青肿的，瘀紫的 | |
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favourable
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| adj.赞成的，称赞的，有利的，良好的，顺利的 | |
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tiresome
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| adj.令人疲劳的，令人厌倦的 | |
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complimentary
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| adj.赠送的，免费的，赞美的，恭维的 | |
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subversive
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| adj.颠覆性的，破坏性的；n.破坏份子，危险份子 | |
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steadily
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| adv.稳定地；不变地；持续地 | |
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flinch
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| v.畏缩，退缩 | |
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chatter
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| vi.／n.喋喋不休；短促尖叫；(牙齿)打战 | |
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chattered
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| （人）喋喋不休( chatter的过去式 )； 唠叨； （牙齿）打战； （机器）震颤 | |
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vengeance
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| n.报复，报仇，复仇 | |
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sociable
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| adj.好交际的，友好的，合群的 | |
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perfectly
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| adv.完美地，无可非议地，彻底地 | |
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incapable
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| adj.无能力的，不能做某事的 | |
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mere
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| adj.纯粹的；仅仅，只不过 | |
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ascertain
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| vt.发现，确定，查明，弄清 | |
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imputed
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| v.把（错误等）归咎于( impute的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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punctuation
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| n.标点符号，标点法 | |
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fermenting
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| v.（使）发酵( ferment的现在分词 )；（使）激动；骚动；骚扰 | |
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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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flinched
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| v.（因危险和痛苦）退缩，畏惧( flinch的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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herd
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| n.兽群，牧群；vt.使集中，把…赶在一起 | |
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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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abruptly
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| adv.突然地，出其不意地 | |
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78
wholesale
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| n.批发；adv.以批发方式；vt.批发，成批出售 | |
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worthy
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| adj.(of)值得的，配得上的；有价值的 | |
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gilt
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| adj.镀金的；n.金边证券 | |
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exhortation
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| n.劝告，规劝 | |
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82
merged
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| （使）混合( merge的过去式和过去分词 )； 相融； 融入； 渐渐消失在某物中 | |
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83
touching
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| adj.动人的，使人感伤的 | |
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84
contagious
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| adj.传染性的，有感染力的 | |
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audacity
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| n.大胆，卤莽，无礼 | |
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imperturbable
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| adj.镇静的 | |
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87
tremor
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| n.震动，颤动，战栗，兴奋，地震 | |
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throbbing
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| a. 跳动的,悸动的 | |
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89
aspirations
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| 强烈的愿望( aspiration的名词复数 )； 志向； 发送气音； 发 h 音 | |
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melancholy
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| n.忧郁，愁思；adj.令人感伤（沮丧）的，忧郁的 | |
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gathering
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| n.集会，聚会，聚集 | |
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idiotic
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| adj.白痴的 | |
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93
forth
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| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
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94
sputter
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| n.喷溅声；v.喷溅 | |
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conspiracies
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| n.阴谋，密谋( conspiracy的名词复数 ) | |
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sterile
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| adj.不毛的，不孕的，无菌的，枯燥的，贫瘠的 | |
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abortive
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| adj.不成功的，发育不全的 | |
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isolated
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| adj.与世隔绝的 | |
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99
veins
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| n.纹理；矿脉( vein的名词复数 )；静脉；叶脉；纹理 | |
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premier
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| adj.首要的；n.总理，首相 | |
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101
delightful
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| adj.令人高兴的，使人快乐的 | |
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102
swarming
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| 密集( swarm的现在分词 )； 云集； 成群地移动； 蜜蜂或其他飞行昆虫成群地飞来飞去 | |
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103
overture
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| n.前奏曲、序曲，提议，提案，初步交涉 | |
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inclination
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| n.倾斜；点头；弯腰；斜坡；倾度；倾向；爱好 | |
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105
tempting
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| a.诱人的, 吸引人的 | |
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106
insinuating
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| adj.曲意巴结的，暗示的v.暗示( insinuate的现在分词 )；巧妙或迂回地潜入；（使）缓慢进入；慢慢伸入 | |
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107
complexion
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| n.肤色；情况，局面；气质，性格 | |
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108
shrieks
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| n.尖叫声( shriek的名词复数 )v.尖叫( shriek的第三人称单数 ) | |
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109
withheld
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| withhold过去式及过去分词 | |
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110
contented
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| adj.满意的，安心的，知足的 | |
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