She is down. They stand toppling together on the slippery ridge2 with no support but the rapidly heating wall down which she had come. He looks one way, then another. Ten feet either way to the gutter3! On one side leap the flames; beneath the other crouches4 their secret enemy. They cannot meet the first and live; needs must they face the latter. Bullets do not always strike the mark, as witness the two they had escaped. Besides, there are friends as well as enemies in the yard on this side. He can hear their encouraging cries. He will toss down the blanket; perhaps there will be hands to hold it and so break her fall, if not his.
With a courage which drew strength from her weakness, he carried out this plan and saw her land in safety amid half a dozen upstretched arms. Then he prepared to follow her, but felt his courage fail and his strength ooze5 without knowing the cause. Had a bullet struck him? He did not feel it. He was conscious of the heat, but of no other suffering; yet his limbs lacked life, and it no longer seemed possible for him to twist himself about so as to fall easily from the gutter.
“Come on! Come on!” rose in yells from below, but there was no movement in him.
“We can’t wait. The wall will fall,” rose affrightedly from below. But he simply clung and the doom6 of flame and collapsing7 timbers was rushing mercilessly upon him when, in the glare which lit up the whole dreadful scenery, there rose before his fainting eyes the sight of Miss Demarest’s face turned his way from the crowd below, with all the terror of a woman’s bleeding heart behind it. The joy which this recognition brought cleared his brain and gave him strength to struggle with his lethargy. Raising himself on one elbow, he slid his feet over the gutter, and with a frantic8 catch at its frail9 support, hung for one instant suspended, then dropped softly into the blanket which a dozen eager hands held out for him.
As he did so, a single gasping10 cry went up from the hushed throng11. He knew the voice. His rescue had relieved one heart. His own beat tumultuously and the blood throbbed12 in his veins13 as he realised this.
The next thing he remembered was standing14 far from the collapsing building, with a dozen men and boys grouped about him. A woman at his feet was clasping his knees in thankfulness, another sinking in a faint at the edge of the shadow, but he saw neither, for the blood was streaming over his eyes from a wound not yet accounted for, and as he felt the burning flow, he realised a fresh duty.
“Where is Quimby?” he demanded loudly. “He made this hole in my forehead. He’s a murderer and a thief, and I order you all in the name of the law to assist me in arresting him.”
With the confused cry of many voices, the circle widened. Brushing the blood from his brow, he caught at the nearest man, and with one glance toward the tottering15 building, pointed16 to the wall where he and the girl Huldah had clung.
“Look!” he shouted, “do you see that black spot? Wait till the smoke blows aside. There! now! the spot just below the dangling17 sheet. It’s a bullet-hole. It was made while I crouched18 there. Quimby held the gun. He had his reasons for hindering our escape. The girl can tell you ——”
“Yes, yes,” rose up from the ground at his feet. “Quimby is a wicked man. He knew that I knew it and he locked my door when he saw the flames coming. I’m willing to tell now. I was afraid before.”
They stared at her with all the wonder of uncomprehending minds as she rose with a resolute19 air to confront them; but as the full meaning of her words penetrated20 their benumbed brains, slowly, man by man, they crept away to peer about in the barns, and among the clustering shadows for the man who had been thus denounced. Hammersmith followed them, and for a few minutes nothing but chase was in any man’s mind. That part of the building in which lay hidden the room of shadows shook, tottered21, and fell, loading the heavens with sparks and lighting22 up the pursuit now become as wild and reckless as the scene itself. To Miss Demarest’s eyes, just struggling back to sight and hearing from the nethermost23 depths of unconsciousness, it looked like the swirling24 flight of spirits lost in the vortex of hell. For one wild moment she thought that she herself had passed the gates of life and was one of those unhappy souls whirling over a gulf25 of flame. The next moment she realised her mistake. A kindly26 voice was in her ear, a kindly hand was pressing a half-burned blanket about her.
“Don’t stare so,” the voice said. “It is only people routing out Quimby. They say he set fire to the tavern27 himself, to hide his crime and do away with the one man who knew about it. I know that he locked me in because I— Oh, see! they’ve got him! they’ve got him! and with a gun in his hand!”
The friendly hand fell; both women started upright panting with terror and excitement. Then one of them drew back, crying in a tone of sudden anguish28, “Why, no! It’s Jake, Jake!”
Daybreak! and with it Doctor Golden, who at the first alarm had ridden out post-haste without waiting to collect his jury. As he stepped to the ground before the hollow shell and smoking pile which were all that remained to mark the scene of yesterday’s events, he looked about among the half-clad, shivering men and women peering from the barns and stables where they had taken refuge, till his eyes rested on Hammersmith standing like a sentinel before one of the doors.
“What’s this? what’s this?” he cried, as the other quickly approached. “Fire, with a man like you in the house?”
“Fire because I was in the house. They evidently felt obliged to get rid of me somehow. It’s been a night of great experiences for me. When they found I was not likely to perish in the flames they resorted to shooting. I believe that my forehead shows where one bullet passed. Jake’s aim might be improved. Not that I am anxious for it.”
“Jake? Do you mean the clerk? Did he fire at you?”
“Yes, while I was on the roof engaged in rescuing one of the women.”
“The miserable29 cur! You arrested him, of course, as soon as you could lay your hands on him?”
“Yes. He’s back of me in this outhouse.”
“And Quimby? What about Quimby?”
“He’s missing.”
“And Mrs. Quimby?”
“Missing, too. They are the only persons unaccounted for.”
“Lost in the fire?”
“We don’t think so. He was the incendiary and she, undoubtedly30, his accomplice31. They would certainly look out for themselves. Doctor Golden, it was not for insurance money they fired the place; it was to cover up a crime.”
The coroner, more or less prepared for this statement by what Hammersmith had already told him, showed but little additional excitement as he dubiously32 remarked:
“So you still hold to that idea.”
Hammersmith glanced about him and, catching33 more than one curious eye turned their way from the crowd now rapidly collecting in all directions, drew the coroner aside and in a few graphic34 words related the night’s occurrences and the conclusions these had forced upon him. Doctor Golden listened and seemed impressed at last, especially by one point.
“You saw Quimby,” he repeated; “saw his face distinctly looking toward your room from one of the stable windows?”
“I can swear to it. I even caught his expression. It was malignant35 in the extreme, quite unlike that he usually turns upon his guests.”
“Which window was it?”
Hammersmith pointed it out.
“You have been there? Searched the room and the stable?”
“Thoroughly, just as soon as it was light enough to see.”
“And found ——”
“Nothing; not even a clue.”
“The man is lying dead in that heap. She, too, perhaps. We’ll have to put the screws on Jake. A conspiracy36 like this must be unearthed37. Show me the rascal38.”
“He’s in a most careless mood. He doesn’t think his master and mistress perished in the fire.”
“Careless, eh? Well, we’ll see. I know that sort.”
But when a few minutes later he came to confront the clerk he saw that his task was not likely to prove quite so easy as his former experience had led him to expect. Save for a slight nervous trembling of limb and shoulder — surely not unnatural39 after such a night — Jake bore himself with very much the same indifferent ease he had shown the day before.
Doctor Golden surveyed him with becoming sternness.
“At what time did this fire start?” he asked.
Jake had a harsh voice, but he mellowed40 it wonderfully as he replied:
“Somewhere about one. I don’t carry a watch, so I don’t know the exact time.”
“The exact time isn’t necessary. Near one answers well enough. How came you to be completely dressed at near one in a country tavern like this?”
“I was on watch. There was death in the house.”
“Then you were in the house?”
“Yes.” His tongue faltered41, but not his gaze; that was as direct as ever. “I was in the house, but not at the moment the fire started. I had gone to the stable to get a newspaper. My room is in the stable, the little one high in the cock-loft. I did not find the paper at once and when I did I stopped to read a few lines. I’m a slow reader, and by the time I was ready to cross back to the house, smoke was pouring out of the rear windows, and I stopped short, horrified42! I’m mortally afraid of fire.”
“You have shown it. I have not heard that you raised the least alarm.”
“I’m afraid you’re right. I lost my head like a fool. You see, I’ve never lived anywhere else for the last ten years, and to see my home on fire was more than I could stand. You wouldn’t think me so weak to look at these muscles.”
Baring his arm, he stared down at it with a forlorn shake of his head. The coroner glanced at Hammersmith. What sort of fellow was this! A giant with the air of a child, a rascal with the smile of a humourist. Delicate business, this; or were they both deceived and the man just a good-humoured silly?
Hammersmith answered the appeal by a nod toward an inner door. The coroner understood and turned back to Jake with the seemingly irrelevant43 inquiry44:
“Where did you leave Mr. Quimby when you went to the cock-loft?”
“In the house?”
“Asleep?”
“No, he was making up his accounts.”
“In the office?”
“Yes.”
“And that was where you left him?”
“Yes, it was.”
“Then, how came he to be looking out of your window just before the fire broke out?”
“He?” Jake’s jaw45 fell and his enormous shoulders drooped46; but only for a moment. With something between a hitch47 and a shrug48, he drew himself upright and with some slight display of temper cried out, “Who says he was there?”
The coroner answered him. “The man behind you. He saw him.”
Jake’s hand closed in a nervous grip. Had the trigger been against his finger at that moment it would doubtless have been snapped with some satisfaction, so the barrel had been pointing at Hammersmith.
“Saw him distinctly,” the coroner repeated. “Mr. Quimby’s face is not to be mistaken.”
“If he saw him,” retorted Jake, with unexpected cunning, “then the flames had got a start. One don’t see in the dark. They hadn’t got much of a start when I left. So he must have gone up to my room after I came down.”
“It was before the alarm was given; before Mr. Hammersmith here had crawled out of his room window.”
“I can’t help that, sir. It was after I left the stable. You can’t mix me up with Quimby’s doings.”
“Can’t we? Jake, you’re no lawyer and you don’t know how to manage a lie. Make a clean breast of it. It may help you and it won’t hurt Quimby. Begin with the old lady’s coming. What turned Quimby against her? What’s the plot?”
“I don’t know of any plot. What Quimby told you is true. You needn’t expect me to contradict it!”
A leaden doggedness had taken the place of his whilom good nature. Nothing is more difficult to contend with. Nothing is more dreaded49 by the inquisitor. Hammersmith realised the difficulties of the situation and repeated the gesture he had previously50 made toward the door leading into an adjoining compartment51. The coroner nodded as before and changed the tone of his inquiry.
“Jake,” he declared, “you are in a more serious position than you realise. You may be devoted52 to Quimby, but there are others who are not. A night such as you have been through quickens the conscience of women if it does not that of men. One has been near death. The story of such a woman is apt to be truthful53. Do you want to hear it? I have no objections to your doing so.”
“What story? I don’t know of any story. Women have easy tongues; they talk even when they have nothing to say.”
“This woman has something to say, or why should she have asked to be confronted with you? Have her in, Mr. Hammersmith. I imagine that a sight of this man will make her voluble.”
A sneer54 from Jake; but when Hammersmith, crossing to the door I’ve just mentioned, opened it and let in Huldah, this token of bravado55 gave way to a very different expression and he exclaimed half ironically, half caressingly57:
“Why, she’s my sweetheart! What can she have to say except that she was mighty58 fortunate not to have been burned up in the fire last night?”
Doctor Golden and the detective crossed looks in some anxiety. They had not been told of this relation between the two, either by the girl herself or by the others. Gifted with a mighty close mouth, she had nevertheless confided59 to Hammersmith that she could tell things and would, if he brought her face to face with the man who tried to shoot him while he was helping60 her down from the roof. Would her indignation hold out under the insinuating61 smile with which the artful rascal awaited her words? It gave every evidence of doing so, for her eye flashed threateningly and her whole body showed the tension of extreme feeling as she came hastily forward, and pausing just beyond the reach of his arm, cried out:
“You had a hand in locking me in. You’re tired of me. If you’re not, why did you fire those bullets my way? I was escaping and ——”
Jake thrust in a quick word. “That was Quimby’s move — locking your door. He had some game up. I don’t know what it was. I had nothing to do with it.”
This denial seemed to influence her. She looked at him and her breast heaved. He was good to look at; he must have been more than that to one of her restricted experience. Hammersmith trembled for the success of their venture. Would this blond young giant’s sturdy figure and provoking smile prevail against the good sense which must tell her that he was criminal to the core, and that neither his principle nor his love were to be depended on? No, not yet. With a deepening flush, she flashed out:
“You hadn’t? You didn’t want me dead? Why, then, those bullets? You might have killed me as well as Mr. Hammersmith when you fired!”
“Huldah!” Astonishment62 and reproach in the tone and something more than either in the look which accompanied it. Both were very artful and betrayed resources not to be expected from one of his ordinarily careless and good-humoured aspect. “You haven’t heard what I’ve said about that?”
“What could you say?”
“Why, the truth, Huldah. I saw you on the roof. The fire was near. I thought that neither you nor the man helping you could escape. A death of that kind is horrible. I loved you too well to see you suffer. My gun was behind the barn door. I got it and fired out of mercy.”
She gasped63. So, in a way, did the two officials. The plea was so specious64, and its likely effect upon her so evident.
“Jake, can I believe you?” she murmured.
For answer, he fumbled66 in his pocket and drew out a small object which he held up before her between his fat forefinger67 and thumb. It was a ring, a thin, plain hoop68 of gold worth possibly a couple of dollars, but which in her eyes seemed to possess an incalculable value, for she had no sooner seen it than her whole face flushed and a look of positive delight supplanted69 the passionately70 aggrieved71 one with which she had hitherto faced him.
“You had bought that?”
He smiled and returned it to his pocket.
“For you,” he simply said.
The joy and pride with which she regarded him, despite the protesting murmur65 of the discomfited72 Hammersmith, proved that the wily Jake had been too much for them.
“You see!” This to Hammersmith, “Jake didn’t mean any harm, only kindness to us both. If you will let him go, I’ll be more thankful than when you helped me down off the roof. We’re wanting to be married. Didn’t you see him show me the ring?”
It was for the coroner to answer.
“We’ll let him go when we’re assured that he means all that he says. I haven’t as good an opinion of him as you have. I think he’s deceiving you and that you are a very foolish girl to trust him. Men don’t fire on the women they love, for any reason. You’d better tell me what you have against him.”
“I haven’t anything against him now.”
“But you were going to tell us something ——”
“I guess I was fooling.”
“People are not apt to fool who have just been in terror of their lives.”
Her eyes sought the ground. “I’m just a hardworking girl,” she muttered almost sullenly73. “What should I know about that man Quimby’s dreadful doings?”
“Dreadful? You call them dreadful?” It was Doctor Golden who spoke74.
“He locked me in my room,” she violently declared. “That wasn’t done for fun.”
“And is that all you can tell us? Don’t look at Jake. Look at me.”
“But I don’t know what to say. I don’t even know what you want.”
“I’ll tell you. Your work in the house has been upstairs work, hasn’t it?”
“Yes, sir. I did up the rooms — some of them,” she added cautiously.
“What rooms? Front rooms, rear rooms, or both?”
“Rooms in front; those on the third floor.”
“But you sometimes went into the extension?”
“I’ve been down the hall.”
“Haven’t you been in any of the rooms there — Number 3, for instance?”
“No, sir; my work didn’t take me there.”
“But you’ve heard of the room?”
“Yes, sir. The girls sometimes spoke of it. It had a bad name, and wasn’t often used. No girl liked to go there. A man was found dead in it once. They said he killed his own self.”
“Have you ever heard any one describe this room?”
“No, sir.”
“Tell what paper was on the wall?”
“No, sir.”
“Perhaps Jake here can help us. He’s been in the room often.”
“The paper was blue; you know that; you saw it yourselves yesterday,” blurted75 forth76 the man thus appealed to.
“Always blue? Never any other colour that you remember?”
“No; but I’ve been in the house only ten years.”
“Oh, is that all! And do you mean to say that this room has not been redecorated in ten years?”
“How can I tell? I can’t remember every time a room is repapered.”
“You ought to remember this one.”
“Why?”
“Because of a very curious circumstance connected with it.”
“I don’t know of any circumstance.”
“You heard what Miss Demarest had to say about a room whose walls were covered with muddy pink scrolls77.”
“Oh, she!” His shrug was very expressive78. Huldah continued to look down.
“Miss Demarest seemed to know what she was talking about,” pursued the coroner in direct contradiction of the tone he had taken the day before. “Her description was quite vivid. It would be strange now if those walls had once been covered with just such paper as she described.”
An ironic56 stare, followed by an incredulous smile from Jake; dead silence and immobility on the part of Huldah.
“Was it?” shot from Doctor Golden’s lips with all the vehemence79 of conscious authority.
There was an instant’s pause, during which Huldah’s breast ceased its regular rise and fall; then the clerk laughed sharply and cried with the apparent lightness of a happy-go-lucky temperament80:
“I should like to know if it was. I’d think it a very curious quin — quin —— What’s the word? quincedence, or something like that.”
“The deepest fellow I know,” grumbled81 the baffled coroner into Hammersmith’s ear, as the latter stepped his way, “or just the most simple.” Then added aloud: “Lift up my coat there, please.”
Hammersmith did so. The garment mentioned lay across a small table which formed the sole furnishing of the place, and when Hammersmith raised it, there appeared lying underneath82 several small pieces of plaster which Doctor Golden immediately pointed out to Jake.
“Do you see these bits from a papered wall?” he asked. “They were torn from that of Number 3, between the breaking out of the fire and Mr. Hammersmith’s escape from the room. Come closer; you may look at them, but keep your fingers off. You see that the coincidence you mentioned holds.”
Jake laughed again loudly, in a way he probably meant to express derision; then he stood silent, gazing curiously83 down at the pieces before him. The blue paper peeling away from the pink made it impossible for him to deny that just such paper as Miss Demarest described had been on the wall prior to the one they had all seen and remembered.[A]
[Footnote A: Hammersmith’s first attempt to settle this fact must have failed from his having chosen a spot for his experiment where the old paper had been stripped away before the new was put on.]
“Well, I vum!” Jake finally broke out, turning and looking from one face to another with a very obvious attempt to carry off the matter jovially84. “She must have a great eye; a — a —(another hard word! What is it now?) Well! no matter. One of the kind what sees through the outside of things to what’s underneath. I always thought her queer, but not so queer as that. I’d like to have that sort of power myself. Wouldn’t you, Huldah?”
The girl, whose eye, as Hammersmith was careful to note, had hardly dwelt for an instant on these bits, not so long by any means as a woman’s natural curiosity would seem to prompt, started as attention was thus drawn85 to herself and attempted a sickly smile.
But the coroner had small appreciation86 for this attempted display of humour, and motioning to Hammersmith to take her away, he subjected the clerk to a second examination which, though much more searching and rigorous than the first, resulted in the single discovery that for all his specious love-making he cared no more for the girl than for one of his old hats. This the coroner confided to Hammersmith when he came in looking disconsolate87 at his own failure to elicit88 anything further from the resolute Huldah.
“But you can’t make her believe that now,” whispered Hammersmith.
“Then we must trick him into showing her his real feelings.”
“How would you set to work? He’s warned, she’s warned, and life if not love is at stake.”
“It don’t look very promising,” muttered Doctor Golden, “but ——”
He was interrupted by a sudden sound of hubbub89 without.
“It’s Quimby, Quimby!” declared Hammersmith in his sudden excitement.
But again he was mistaken. It was not the landlord, but his wife, wild-eyed, dishevelled, with bits of straw in her hair from some sheltering hayrick and in her hand a heavy gold chain which, as the morning sun shone across it, showed sparkles of liquid clearness at short intervals90 along its whole length.
Diamonds! Miss Thistlewaite’s diamonds, and the woman who held them was gibbering like an idiot!
The effect on Jake was remarkable91. Uttering a piteous cry, he bounded from their hands and fell at the woman’s feet.
“Mother Quimby!” he moaned. “Mother Quimby!” and sought to kiss her hand and wake some intelligence in her eye.
Meanwhile the coroner and Hammersmith looked on, astonished at these evidences of real feeling. Then their eyes stole behind them, and simultaneously92 both started back for the outhouse they had just left. Huldah was standing in the doorway93, surveying the group before her with trembling, half-parted lips.
“Jealous!” muttered Hammersmith. “Providence has done our little trick for us. She will talk now. Look! She’s beckoning94 to us.”
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behold
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| v.看，注视，看到 | |
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ridge
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| n.山脊；鼻梁；分水岭 | |
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gutter
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| n.沟，街沟，水槽，檐槽，贫民窟 | |
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crouches
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| n.蹲着的姿势( crouch的名词复数 )v.屈膝，蹲伏( crouch的第三人称单数 ) | |
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ooze
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| n.软泥，渗出物；vi.渗出，泄漏；vt.慢慢渗出，流露 | |
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doom
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| n.厄运，劫数；v.注定，命定 | |
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collapsing
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| 压扁[平]，毁坏，断裂 | |
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frantic
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| adj.狂乱的，错乱的，激昂的 | |
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frail
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| adj.身体虚弱的；易损坏的 | |
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gasping
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| adj. 气喘的, 痉挛的 动词gasp的现在分词 | |
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throng
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| n.人群，群众；v.拥挤，群集 | |
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throbbed
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| 抽痛( throb的过去式和过去分词 )； （心脏、脉搏等）跳动 | |
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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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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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tottering
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| adj.蹒跚的，动摇的v.走得或动得不稳( totter的现在分词 )；踉跄；蹒跚；摇摇欲坠 | |
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pointed
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| adj.尖的，直截了当的 | |
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dangling
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| 悬吊着( dangle的现在分词 )； 摆动不定； 用某事物诱惑…； 吊胃口 | |
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crouched
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| v.屈膝，蹲伏( crouch的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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resolute
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| adj.坚决的，果敢的 | |
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penetrated
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tottered
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lighting
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nethermost
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swirling
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gulf
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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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tavern
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| n.小旅馆，客栈；小酒店 | |
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anguish
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miserable
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undoubtedly
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accomplice
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dubiously
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| adv.可疑地，怀疑地 | |
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catching
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| adj.易传染的，有魅力的，迷人的，接住 | |
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graphic
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| adj.生动的，形象的，绘画的，文字的，图表的 | |
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malignant
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| adj.恶性的，致命的；恶意的，恶毒的 | |
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conspiracy
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| n.阴谋，密谋，共谋 | |
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unearthed
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| 出土的（考古） | |
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rascal
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| n.流氓；不诚实的人 | |
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unnatural
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| adj.不自然的；反常的 | |
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mellowed
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| （使）成熟( mellow的过去式和过去分词 )； 使色彩更加柔和，使酒更加醇香 | |
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faltered
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| （嗓音）颤抖( falter的过去式和过去分词 )； 支吾其词； 蹒跚； 摇晃 | |
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horrified
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| a.(表现出)恐惧的 | |
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irrelevant
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| adj.不恰当的，无关系的，不相干的 | |
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inquiry
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| n.打听，询问，调查，查问 | |
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jaw
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| n.颚，颌，说教，流言蜚语；v.喋喋不休，教训 | |
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drooped
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| 弯曲或下垂，发蔫( droop的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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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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shrug
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| v.耸肩(表示怀疑、冷漠、不知等) | |
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dreaded
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| adj.令人畏惧的；害怕的v.害怕，恐惧，担心( dread的过去式和过去分词) | |
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previously
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| adv.以前，先前（地） | |
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compartment
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| n.卧车包房，隔间；分隔的空间 | |
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devoted
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| adj.忠诚的，忠实的，热心的，献身于...的 | |
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truthful
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| adj.真实的，说实话的，诚实的 | |
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sneer
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| v.轻蔑；嘲笑；n.嘲笑，讥讽的言语 | |
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bravado
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| n.虚张声势，故作勇敢，逞能 | |
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ironic
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| adj.讽刺的，有讽刺意味的，出乎意料的 | |
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caressingly
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| 爱抚地，亲切地 | |
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mighty
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| adj.强有力的；巨大的 | |
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confided
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| v.吐露（秘密，心事等）( confide的过去式和过去分词 )；（向某人）吐露（隐私、秘密等） | |
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helping
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| n.食物的一份&adj.帮助人的，辅助的 | |
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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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astonishment
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| n.惊奇，惊异 | |
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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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specious
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| adj.似是而非的；adv.似是而非地 | |
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murmur
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| n.低语，低声的怨言；v.低语，低声而言 | |
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fumbled
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| （笨拙地）摸索或处理（某事物）( fumble的过去式和过去分词 )； 乱摸，笨拙地弄； 使落下 | |
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forefinger
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| n.食指 | |
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hoop
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| n.（篮球）篮圈，篮 | |
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supplanted
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| 把…排挤掉，取代( supplant的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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passionately
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| ad.热烈地，激烈地 | |
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aggrieved
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| adj.愤愤不平的，受委屈的；悲痛的；（在合法权利方面）受侵害的v.令委屈，令苦恼，侵害( aggrieve的过去式)；令委屈，令苦恼，侵害( aggrieve的过去式和过去分词) | |
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discomfited
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| v.使为难( discomfit的过去式和过去分词)；使狼狈；使挫折；挫败 | |
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sullenly
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| 不高兴地，绷着脸，忧郁地 | |
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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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blurted
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| v.突然说出，脱口而出( blurt的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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forth
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| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
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scrolls
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| n.（常用于录写正式文件的）纸卷( scroll的名词复数 )；卷轴；涡卷形（装饰）；卷形花纹v.（电脑屏幕上）从上到下移动（资料等），卷页( scroll的第三人称单数 )；（似卷轴般）卷起；（像展开卷轴般地）将文字显示于屏幕 | |
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expressive
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| adj.表现的，表达…的，富于表情的 | |
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vehemence
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| n.热切；激烈；愤怒 | |
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temperament
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| n.气质，性格，性情 | |
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81
grumbled
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| 抱怨( grumble的过去式和过去分词 )； 发牢骚； 咕哝； 发哼声 | |
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82
underneath
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| adj.在...下面，在...底下；adv.在下面 | |
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83
curiously
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| adv.有求知欲地；好问地；奇特地 | |
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84
jovially
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| adv.愉快地，高兴地 | |
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85
drawn
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| v.拖，拉，拔出；adj.憔悴的，紧张的 | |
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appreciation
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| n.评价；欣赏；感谢；领会，理解；价格上涨 | |
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87
disconsolate
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| adj.忧郁的，不快的 | |
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88
elicit
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| v.引出,抽出,引起 | |
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89
hubbub
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| n.嘈杂；骚乱 | |
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intervals
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| n.[军事]间隔( interval的名词复数 )；间隔时间；[数学]区间；（戏剧、电影或音乐会的）幕间休息 | |
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remarkable
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| adj.显著的，异常的，非凡的，值得注意的 | |
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simultaneously
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| adv.同时发生地，同时进行地 | |
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doorway
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| n.门口，(喻)入门；门路，途径 | |
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94
beckoning
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| adj.引诱人的，令人心动的v.（用头或手的动作）示意，召唤( beckon的现在分词 ) | |
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