The shout was, “A moi, Roumis! Pour la France!” And Cigarette knew the voice, ringing melodiously15 and calm still, though it gave the sound of alarm.
“Cigarette au secour!” she cried in answer; she had cried it many a time over the heat of battlefields, and when the wounded men in the dead of the sickly night writhed16 under the knife of the camp-thieves. If she had gone like the wind before, she went like the lightning now.
A few yards onward17 she saw a confused knot of horses and of riders struggling one with another in a cloud of white dust, silvery and hazy18 in the radiance of the moon.
The center figure was Cecil’s; the four others were Arabs, armed to the teeth and mad with drink, who had spent the whole day in drunken debauchery; pouring in raki down their throats until they were wild with its poisonous fire, and had darted19 headlong, all abreast20, down out of the town; overriding21 all that came in their way, and lashing22 their poor beasts with their sabers till the horses’ flanks ran blood. Just as they neared Cecil they had knocked aside and trampled23 over a worn out old colon24, of age too feeble for him to totter25 in time from their path. Cecil had reined26 up and shouted to them to pause; they, inflamed27 with the perilous28 drink, and senseless with the fury which seems to possess every Arab once started in a race neck-to-neck, were too blind to see, and too furious to care, that they were faced by a soldier of France, but rode down on him at once, with their curled sabers flashing round their heads. His horse stood the shock gallantly30, and he sought at first only to parry their thrusts and to cut through their stallions’ reins32; but the latter were chain bridles34, and only notched35 his sword as the blade struck them, and the former became too numerous and too savagely36 dealt to be easily played with in carte and tierce. The Arabs were dead-drunk, he saw at a glance, and had got the blood-thirst upon them; roused and burning with brandy and raki, these men were like tigers to deal with; the words he had spoken they never heard, and their horses hemmed37 him in powerless, while their steel flashed on every side — they were not of the tribe of Khalifa.
If he struck not, and struck not surely, he saw that a few moments more of that moonlight night were all that he would live. He wished to avoid bloodshed, both because his sympathies were always with the conquered tribes, and because he knew that every one of these quarrels and combats between the vanquisher38 and the vanquished39 served further to widen the breach40, already broad enough, between them. But it was no longer a matter of choice with him, as his shoulder was grazed by a thrust which, but for a swerve41 of his horse, would have pierced to his lungs; and the four riders, yelling like madmen, forced the animal back on his haunches, and assaulted him with breathless violence. He swept his own arm back, and brought his saber down straight through the sword-arm of the foremost; the limb was cleft42 through as if the stroke of an ax had severed43 it, and, thrice infuriated, the Arabs closed in on him. The points of their weapons were piercing his harness when, sharp and swift, one on another, three shots hissed44 past him; the nearest of his assailants fell stone dead, and the others, wounded and startled, loosed their hold, shook their reins, and tore off down the lonely road, while the dead man’s horse, shaking his burden from him out of the stirrups, followed them at a headlong gallop45 through a cloud of dust.
“That was a pretty cut through the arm; better had it been through the throat. Never do things by halves, ami Victor,” said Cigarette carelessly, as she thrust her pistols back into her sash, and looked, with the tranquil46 appreciation47 of a connoisseur48, on the brown, brawny49, naked limb, where it lay severed on the sand, with the hilt of the weapon still hanging in the sinewy51 fingers. Cecil threw himself from his saddle and gazed at her in bewildered amazement52; he had thought those sure, cool, death-dealing53 shots had come from some Spahi or Chasseur.
“I owe you my life!” he said rapidly. “But — good God! — you have shot the fellow dead ——”
Cigarette shrugged54 her shoulders with a contemptuous glance at the Bedouin’s corpse55.
“To be sure — I am not a bungler57.”
“Happily for me, or I had been where he lies now. But wait — let me look; there may be breath in him yet.”
Cigarette laughed, offended and scornful, as with the offense58 and scorn of one whose first science was impeached59.
“Look and welcome; but if you find any life in that Arab, make a laugh of it before all the army tomorrow.”
She was at her fiercest. A thousand new emotions had been roused in her that night, bringing pain with them, that she bitterly resented; and, moreover, this child of the Army of Africa caught fire at the flame of battle with instant contagion60, and had seen slaughter61 around her from her first infancy62.
Cecil, disregarding her protest, stooped and raised the fallen Bedouin. He saw at a glance that she was right; the lean, dark, lustful63 face was set in the rigidity64 of death; the bullet had passed straight through the temples.
“Did you never see a dead man before?” demanded Cigarette impatiently, as he lingered — even in this moment he had more thought of this Arab than he had of her!
He laid the Arab’s body gently down, and looked at her with a glance that, rightly or wrongly, she thought had a rebuke65 in it.
“Very many. But — it is never a pleasant sight. And they were in drink; they did not know what they did.”
“Pardieu! What divine pity! Good powder and ball were sore wasted, it seems; you would have preferred to lie there yourself, it appears. I beg your pardon for interfering66 with the preference.”
Her eyes were flashing, her lips very scornful and wrathful. This was his gratitude67!
“Wait, wait,” said Cecil rapidly, laying his hand on her shoulder, as she flung herself away. “My dear child, do not think me ungrateful. I know well enough I should be a dead man myself had it not been for your gallant31 assistance. Believe me, I thank you from my heart.”
“But you think me ‘unsexed’ all the same! I see, beau lion!”
The word had rankled68 in her; she could launch it now with telling reprisal69.
He smiled; but he saw that this phrase, which she had overheard, had not alone incensed70, but had wounded her.
“Well, a little, perhaps,” he said gently. “How should it be otherwise? And, for that matter, I have seen many a great lady look on and laugh her soft, cruel laughter, while the pheasants were falling by hundreds, or the stags being torn by the hounds. They called it ‘sport,’ but there was not much difference — in the mercy of it, at least — from your war. And they had not a tithe71 of your courage.”
The answer failed to conciliate her; there was an accent of compassion72 in it that ill-suited her pride, and a lack of admiration73 that was not less new and unwelcome.
“It was well for you that I was unsexed enough to be able to send an ounce of lead into a drunkard!” she pursued with immeasurable disdain74. “If I had been like that dainty aristocrate down there — pardieu! It had been worse for you. I should have screamed, and fainted, and left you to be killed, while I made a tableau75. Oh, ha! that is to be ‘feminine,’ is it not?”
“Where did you see that lady?” he asked in some surprise.
“Oh, I was there!” answered Cigarette, with a toss of her head southward to where the villa lay. “I went to see how you would keep your promise.”
“Well, you saw I kept it.”
She gave her little teeth a sharp click like the click of a trigger.
“Yes. And I would have forgiven you if you had broken it.”
“Would you? I should not have forgiven myself.”
“Ah! you are just like the Marquise. And you will end like him.”
“Very probably.”
She knitted her pretty brows, standing76 there in his path with her pistols thrust in her sash, and her hands resting lightly on her hips77, as a good workman rests after a neatly78 finished job, and her dainty fez set half on one side of her brown, tangled79 curls, while upon them the intense luster80 of the moonlight streamed, and in the dust, well-nigh at their feet, lay the gaunt, while-robed form of the dead Arab, with the olive, saturnine81 face turned upward to the stars.
“Why did you give the chessmen to that silver pheasant?” she asked him abruptly82.
“Silver pheasant?”
“Yes. See how she sweeps — sweeps — sweeps so languid, so brilliant, so useless — bah! Why did you give them?”
“She admired them. It was not much to give.”
“You would not have given them to a daughter of the people.”
“Why not?”
“Why not? Oh, ha! because her hands would be hard, and brown, and coarse, not fit for those ivory puppets; but hers are white like the ivory, and cannot soil it. She will handle them so gracefully83, for five minutes; and then buy a new toy, and let her lapdog break yours!”
“Like enough.” He said it with his habitual85 gentle temper, but there was a shadow of pain in the words. The chessmen had become in some sort like living things to him, through long association; he had parted from them not without regret, though for the moment courtesy and generosity86 of instinct had overcome it; and he knew that it was but too true how in all likelihood these trifles of his art, that had brought him many a solace87 and been his companion through many a lonely hour, would be forgotten by the morrow, where he had bestowed88 them, and at best put aside in a cabinet to lie unnoticed among bronzes or porcelain89, or be set on some boudoir table to be idled with in the mimic90 warfare91 that would serve to cover some listless flirtation92.
Cigarette, quick to sting, but as quick to repent93 using her sting, saw the regret in him; with the rapid, uncalculating liberality of an utterly94 unselfish and intensely impulsive95 nature, she hastened to make amends96 by saying what was like gall29 on her tongue in the utterance97:
“Tiens!” she said quickly. “Perhaps she will value them more than that. I know nothing of the aristocrats98 — not I! When you were gone, she championed you against the Black Hawk99. She told him that if you had not been a gentleman before you came into the ranks, she had never seen one. She spoke12 well, if you had but heard her.”
“She did!”
She saw his glance brighten as it turned on her in a surprised gratification.
“Well! What is there so wonderful?”
Cigarette asked it with a certain petulance100 and doggedness; taking a namesake out of her breast-pocket, biting its end off, and striking a fusee. A word from this aristocrate was more welcome to him than a bullet that had saved his life!
Her generosity had gone very far, and, like most generosity, got nothing for its pains.
He was silent a few moments, tracing lines in the dust with the point of his scabbard. Cigarette, with the cigar in her mouth, stamped her foot impatiently.
“Corporal Victor! Are you going to dream there all night? What is to be done with this dog of an Arab?”
She was angered by him; she was in the mood to make herself seem all the rougher, fiercer, naughtier, and more callous101. She had shot the man — pouf! What of that? She had shot men before, as all Africa knew. She would defend a half-fledged bird, a terrified sheep, a worn-out old cur; but a man! Men were the normal and natural food for pistols and rifles, she considered. A state of society in which firearms had been unknown was a thing Cigarette had never heard of, and in which she would have contumeliously disbelieved if she had been told of it.
Cecil looked up from his musing102. He thought what a pity it was this pretty, graceful84 French kitten was such a bloodthirsty young panther at heart.
“I scarcely know what to do,” he answered her doubtfully. “Put him across my saddle, poor wretch103, I suppose; the fray104 must be reported.”
“Leave that to me,” said Cigarette decidedly, and with a certain haughty105 patronage106. “I shot him — I will see the thing gets told right. It might be awkward for you; they are growing so squeamish about the Roumis killing107 the natives. Draw him to one side there, and leave him. The crows will finish his affair.”
The coolness with which this handsome child disposed of the fate of what, a moment or two before, had been a sentient108, breathing, vigorous frame, sent a chill through her hearer, though he had been seasoned by a decade of slaughter.
“No,” he said briefly109. “Suspicion might fall on some innocent passer-by. Besides — he shall have a decent burial.”
“Burial for an Arab — pouf!” cried Cigarette in derision. “Parbleu, M. Bel-a-faire-peau, I have seen hundreds of our best soldiers lie rotting on the plains with the birds’ beaks110 at their eyes and the jackals’ fangs111 in their flesh. What was good enough for them is surely good enough for him. You are an eccentric fellow — you —”
He laughed a little.
“Time was when I should have begged you not to call me any such ‘bad form’! Eccentric! I have not genius enough for that.”
“Eh?” She did not understand him. “Well, you want that carrion112 poked113 into the earth, instead of lying atop of it. I don’t see much difference myself. I would like to be in the sun as long as I could, I think, dead or alive. Ah! how odd it is to think one will be dead some day — never wake for the reveille — never hear the cannon114 or the caissons roll by — never stir when the trumpets115 sound the charge, but lie there dead — dead — dead — while the squadrons thunder above one’s grave! Droll116, eh?”
A momentary117 pathos118 softened119 her voice, where she stood in the glistening120 moonlight. That the time would ever come when her glad laughter would be hushed, when her young heart would beat no more, when the bright, abundant, passionate121 blood would bound no longer through her veins122, when all the vivacious123, vivid, sensuous124 charms of living would be ended for her forever, was a thing that she could no better bring home to her than a bird that sings in the light of the sun could be made to know that the time would come when its little, melodious14 throat would be frozen in death, and give song never more.
The tone touched him — made him think less and less of her as a dare-devil boy, as a reckless child-soldier, and more of her as what she was, than he had done before; he touched her almost caressingly126.
“Pauvre enfant! I hope that day will be very distant from you. And yet — how bravely you risked death for me just now!”
Cigarette, though accustomed to the lawless loves of the camp, flushed ever so slightly at the mere127 caress125 of his hand.
“I risked nothing!” she said rapidly. “As for death — when it comes, it comes. Every soldier carries it in his wallet, and it may jump out on him any minute. I would rather die young than grow old. Age is nothing else but death that is conscious.”
“Where do you get your wisdom, little one?”
“Wisdom? Bah! living is learning. Some people go through life with their eyes shut, and then grumble128 there is nothing to see in it! Well — you want that Arab buried? What a fancy! Look you, then; stay by him, since you are so fond of him, and I will go and send some men to you with a stretcher to carry him down to the town. As for reporting, leave that to me. I shall tell them I left you on guard. That will square things if you are late at the barrack.”
“But that will give you so much trouble, Cigarette.”
“Trouble? Morbleu! Do you think I am like that silver pheasant yonder? Lend me your horse, and I shall be in the town in ten minutes!”
She vaulted129, as she spoke, into the saddle; he laid his hand on the bridle33 and stopped her.
“Wait! I have not thanked you half enough, my brave little champion. How am I to show you my gratitude?”
For a moment the bright, brown, changeful face, that could look so fiercely scornful, so sunnily radiant, so tempestuously130 passionate, and so tenderly childlike, in almost the same moment, grew warm as the warm suns that had given their fire to her veins; she glanced at him almost shyly, while the moonlight slept lustrously131 in the dark softness of her eyes; there was an intense allurement132 in her in that moment — the allurement of a woman’s loveliness, bitterly as she disdained133 a woman’s charms. It might have told him, more plainly than words, how best he could reward her for the shot that had saved him; yet, though a man on whom such beguilement134 usually worked only too easily and too often, it did not now touch him. He was grateful to her, but, despite himself, he was cold to her; despite himself, the life which that little hand that he held had taken so lightly made it the hand of a comrade to be grasped in alliance, but never the hand of a mistress to steal to his lips and to lie in his breast.
Her rapid and unerring instinct made her feel that keenly and instantly; she had seen too much passion not to know when it was absent. The warmth passed off her face, her teeth clinched135; she shook the bridle out of his hold.
“Take gratitude to the silver pheasant there! She will value fine words; I set no count on them. I did no more for you than I have done scores of times for my Spahis. Ask them how many I have shot with my own hand!”
In another instant she was away like a sirocco; a whirlwind of dust, that rose in the moonlight, marking her flight as she rode full gallop to Algiers.
“A kitten with the tigress in her,” thought Cecil, as he seated himself on a broken pile of stone to keep his vigil over the dead Arab. It was not that he was callous to the generous nature of the little Friend of the Flag, or that he was insensible either to the courage that beat so dauntlessly in her pulses, or to the piquant136, picturesque137 grace that accompanied even her wildest actions; but she had nothing of her sex’s charm for him. He thought of her rather as a young soldier than as a young girl. She amused him as a wayward, bright, mischievous138, audacious boy might have done; but she had no other interest for him. He had given her little attention; a waltz, a cigar, a passing jest, were all he had bestowed on the little lionne of the Spahis corps56; and the deepest sentiment she had ever awakened139 in him was an involuntary pity — pity for this flower which blossomed on the polluted field of war, and under the poison-dropping branches of lawless crime. A flower, bright-hued and sun-fed, glancing with the dews of youth now, when it had just unclosed, in all its earliest beauty, but already soiled and tainted140 by the bed from which it sprang, and doomed141 to be swept away with time, scentless142 and loveless, down the rapid, noxious143 current of that broad, black stream of vice144 on which it now floated so heedlessly.
Even now his thoughts drifted from her almost before the sound of the horse’s hoofs145 had died where he sat on a loose pile of stones, with the lifeless limbs of the Arab at his feet.
“Who was it in my old life that she is like?” he was musing. It was the deep-blue, dreaming haughty eyes of the Princesse that he was bringing back to memory, not the brown, mignon face that had been so late close to his in the light of the moon.
Meanwhile, on his good gray, Cigarette rode like a true Chasseur herself. She was used to the saddle, and would ride a wild desert colt without stirrup or bridle; balancing her supple146 form now on one foot, now on the other, on the animal’s naked back, while they flew at full speed. Not so fantastically, but full as speedily, she dashed down into the city, scattering147 all she met with right and left, till she rode straight up to the barracks of the Chasseurs d’Afrique. At the entrance, as she reined up, she saw the very person she wanted, and signed him to her as carelessly as if he were a conscript instead of that powerful officer, Francois Vireflau, captain and adjutant.
“Hola!” she cried, as she signaled him; Cigarette was privileged all through the army. “Adjutant Vireflau, I come to tell you a good story for your folios. There is your Corporal there — le beau Victor — has been attacked by four drunken dogs of Arbicos, dead-drunk, and four against one. He fought them superbly, but he would only parry, not thrust, because he knows how strict the rules are about dealing with the scoundrels — even when they are murdering you, parbleu! He has behaved splendidly. I tell you so. And he was so patient with those dogs that he would not have killed one of them. But I did; shot one straight through the brain — a beautiful thing — and he lies on the Oran road now. Victor would not leave him, for fear some passer-by should be thought guilty of a murder. So I came on to tell you, and ask you to send some men up for the jackal’s body. Ah! he is a fine soldier, that Bel-a-faire-peur of yours. Why don’t you give him a step — two steps — three steps? Diantre! It is not like France to leave him a Corporal!”
Vireflau listened attentively148 — a short, lean, black-visaged campaigner, who yet relaxed into a grim half-smile as the vivandiere addressed him with that air, as of a generalissimo addressing a subordinate, which always characterized Cigarette the more strongly the higher the grade of her companion or opponent.
“Always eloquent149, pretty one!” he growled150. “Are you sure he did not begin the fray?”
“Don’t I tell you the four Arabs were like four devils! They knocked down an old colon, and Bel-a-faire-peur tried to prevent their doing more mischief151, and they set on him like so many wild-cats. He kept his temper wonderfully; he always tries to preserve order; you can’t say so much of your riff-raff, Captain Vireflau, commonly! Here! this is his horse. Send some men to him; and mind the thing is reported fairly, and to his credit, tomorrow.”
With which command, given as with the air of a commander-inchief, in its hauteur152 and its nonchalance153, Cigarette vaulted off the charger, flung the bridle to a soldier, and was away and out of sight before Francois Vireflau had time to consider whether he should laugh at her caprices, as all the army did, or resent her insolence154 to his dignity. But he was a good-natured man, and, what was better, a just one; and Cigarette had judged rightly that the tale she had told would weigh well with him to the credit side of his Corporal, and would not reach his Colonel in any warped155 version that could give pretext156 for any fresh exercise of tyranny over “Bel-a-faire-peur” under the title of “discipline.”
“Dieu de Dieu!” thought his champion as she made her way through the gas-lit streets. “I swore to have my vengeance157 on him. It is a droll vengeance, to save his life, and plead his cause with Vireflau! No matter! One could not look on and let a set of Arbicos kill a good lascar of France; and the thing that is just must be said, let it go as it will against one’s grain. Public Welfare before Private Pique158!”
A grand and misty159 generality which consoled Cigarette for an abandonment of her sworn revenge which she felt was a weakness utterly unworthy of her, and too much like that inconsequent weathercock, that useless, insignificant160 part of creation, those objects of her supreme161 derision and contempt, those frivolous162 trifles which she wondered the good God had ever troubled himself to make — namely, “Les Femmes.”
“Hola, Cigarette!” cried the Zouave Tata, leaning out of a little casement163 of the As de Pique as she passed it. “A la bonne heure, ma belle164! Come in; we have the devil’s own fun here —”
“No doubt!” retorted the Friend of the Flag. “It would be odd if the master-fiddler would not fiddle165 for his own!”
Through the window, and over the sturdy shoulders, in their canvas shirt, of the hero Tata, the room was visible — full of smoke, through which the lights glimmered166 like the sun in a fog; reeking167 with bad wines, crowded with laughing, bearded faces, and the battered168 beauty of women revelers, while on the table, singing with a voice Mario himself could not have rivaled for exquisite169 sweetness, was a slender Zouave gesticulating with the most marvelous pantomime, while his melodious tones rolled out the obscenest and wittiest170 ballad171 that ever was caroled in a guinguette.
“Come in, my pretty one!” entreated172 Tata, stretching out his brawn50 arms. “You will die of laughing if you hear Gris–Gris to-night — such a song!”
“A pretty song, yes — for a pigsty173!” said Cigarette, with a glance into the chamber174; and she shook his hand off her, and went on down the street. A night or two before a new song from Gris–Gris, the best tenor175 in the whole army, would have been paradise to her, and she would have vaulted through the window at a single bound into the pandemonium176. Now, she did not know why, she found no charm in it.
And she went quietly home to her little straw-bed in her garret, and curled herself up like a kitten to sleep; but for the first time in her young life sleep did not come readily to her, and when it did come, for the first time found a restless sigh upon her laughing mouth.
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1
tassels
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| n.穗( tassel的名词复数 )；流苏状物；（植物的）穗；玉蜀黍的穗状雄花v.抽穗， （玉米）长穗须( tassel的第三人称单数 )；使抽穗， （为了使作物茁壮生长）摘去穗状雄花；用流苏装饰 | |
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2
distinctive
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| adj.特别的，有特色的，与众不同的 | |
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speck
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| n.微粒，小污点，小斑点 | |
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parch
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| v.烤干，焦干 | |
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bravado
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| n.虚张声势，故作勇敢，逞能 | |
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6
exulted
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| 狂喜，欢跃( exult的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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friskily
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| adv.活泼地，闹着玩地 | |
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8
salmon
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| n.鲑，大马哈鱼，橙红色的 | |
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exults
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| 狂喜，欢跃( exult的第三人称单数 ) | |
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10
crest
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| n.顶点；饰章；羽冠；vt.达到顶点；vi.形成浪尖 | |
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11
vainglorious
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| adj.自负的；夸大的 | |
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12
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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13
villa
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| n.别墅，城郊小屋 | |
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14
melodious
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| adj.旋律美妙的，调子优美的，音乐性的 | |
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melodiously
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16
writhed
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| （因极度痛苦而）扭动或翻滚( writhe的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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onward
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| adj.向前的，前进的；adv.向前，前进，在先 | |
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hazy
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| adj.有薄雾的，朦胧的；不肯定的，模糊的 | |
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darted
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| v.投掷，投射( dart的过去式和过去分词 )；向前冲，飞奔 | |
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abreast
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| adv.并排地；跟上(时代)的步伐，与…并进地 | |
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overriding
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| a.最主要的 | |
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22
lashing
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| n.鞭打；痛斥；大量；许多v.鞭打( lash的现在分词 )；煽动；紧系；怒斥 | |
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23
trampled
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| 踩( trample的过去式和过去分词 )； 践踏； 无视； 侵犯 | |
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colon
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| n.冒号，结肠，直肠 | |
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totter
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| v.蹒跚， 摇摇欲坠；n.蹒跚的步子 | |
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26
reined
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| 勒缰绳使（马）停步( rein的过去式和过去分词 )； 驾驭； 严格控制； 加强管理 | |
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inflamed
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| adj.发炎的，红肿的v.（使）变红，发怒，过热( inflame的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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perilous
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| adj.危险的，冒险的 | |
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29
gall
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| v.使烦恼，使焦躁，难堪；n.磨难 | |
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30
gallantly
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| adv. 漂亮地，勇敢地，献殷勤地 | |
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31
gallant
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| adj.英勇的，豪侠的；(向女人)献殷勤的 | |
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32
reins
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| 感情，激情； 缰( rein的名词复数 )； 控制手段； 掌管； （成人带着幼儿走路以防其走失时用的）保护带 | |
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33
bridle
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| n.笼头，束缚；vt.抑制，约束；动怒 | |
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34
bridles
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| 约束( bridle的名词复数 )； 限动器； 马笼头； 系带 | |
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35
notched
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| a.有凹口的，有缺口的 | |
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36
savagely
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| adv. 野蛮地，残酷地 | |
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37
hemmed
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| 缝…的褶边( hem的过去式和过去分词 )； 包围 | |
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38
vanquisher
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| 征服者，胜利者 | |
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39
vanquished
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| v.征服( vanquish的过去式和过去分词 )；战胜；克服；抑制 | |
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40
breach
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| n.违反，不履行；破裂；vt.冲破，攻破 | |
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41
swerve
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| v.突然转向，背离；n．转向，弯曲，背离 | |
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42
cleft
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| n.裂缝；adj.裂开的 | |
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43
severed
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| v.切断，断绝( sever的过去式和过去分词 )；断，裂 | |
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44
hissed
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| 发嘶嘶声( hiss的过去式和过去分词 )； 发嘘声表示反对 | |
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45
gallop
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| v./n.(马或骑马等)飞奔；飞速发展 | |
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46
tranquil
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| adj. 安静的, 宁静的, 稳定的, 不变的 | |
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47
appreciation
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| n.评价；欣赏；感谢；领会，理解；价格上涨 | |
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48
connoisseur
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| n.鉴赏家，行家，内行 | |
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49
brawny
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| adj.强壮的 | |
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50
brawn
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| n.体力 | |
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51
sinewy
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| adj.多腱的，强壮有力的 | |
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52
amazement
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| n.惊奇，惊讶 | |
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53
dealing
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| n.经商方法，待人态度 | |
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54
shrugged
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| vt.耸肩（shrug的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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55
corpse
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| n.尸体，死尸 | |
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56
corps
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| n.(通信等兵种的)部队；(同类作的)一组 | |
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57
Bungler
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| n.笨拙者，经验不够的人 | |
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58
offense
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| n.犯规，违法行为；冒犯，得罪 | |
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59
impeached
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| v.控告（某人）犯罪( impeach的过去式和过去分词 )；弹劾；对（某事物）怀疑；提出异议 | |
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60
contagion
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| n.(通过接触的疾病)传染；蔓延 | |
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61
slaughter
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| n.屠杀，屠宰；vt.屠杀，宰杀 | |
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62
infancy
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| n.婴儿期；幼年期；初期 | |
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63
lustful
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| a.贪婪的；渴望的 | |
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64
rigidity
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| adj.钢性，坚硬 | |
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65
rebuke
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| v.指责，非难，斥责 [反]praise | |
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66
interfering
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| adj. 妨碍的 动词interfere的现在分词 | |
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67
gratitude
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| adj.感激，感谢 | |
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68
rankled
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| v.（使）痛苦不已，（使）怨恨不已( rankle的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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69
reprisal
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| n.报复，报仇，报复性劫掠 | |
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70
incensed
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| 盛怒的 | |
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71
tithe
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| n.十分之一税；v.课什一税，缴什一税 | |
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72
compassion
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| n.同情，怜悯 | |
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73
admiration
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| n.钦佩，赞美，羡慕 | |
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74
disdain
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| n.鄙视，轻视；v.轻视，鄙视，不屑 | |
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75
tableau
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| n.画面，活人画（舞台上活人扮的静态画面） | |
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76
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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77
hips
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| abbr.high impact polystyrene 高冲击强度聚苯乙烯，耐冲性聚苯乙烯n.臀部( hip的名词复数 )；[建筑学]屋脊；臀围（尺寸）；臀部…的 | |
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78
neatly
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| adv.整洁地，干净地，灵巧地，熟练地 | |
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79
tangled
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| adj. 纠缠的，紊乱的 动词tangle的过去式和过去分词 | |
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80
luster
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| n.光辉；光泽，光亮；荣誉 | |
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81
saturnine
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| adj.忧郁的，沉默寡言的，阴沉的，感染铅毒的 | |
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82
abruptly
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| adv.突然地，出其不意地 | |
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83
gracefully
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| ad.大大方方地；优美地 | |
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84
graceful
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| adj.优美的，优雅的；得体的 | |
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85
habitual
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| adj.习惯性的；通常的，惯常的 | |
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86
generosity
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| n.大度，慷慨，慷慨的行为 | |
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87
solace
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| n.安慰；v.使快乐；vt.安慰(物)，缓和 | |
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88
bestowed
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| 赠给，授予( bestow的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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89
porcelain
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| n.瓷；adj.瓷的，瓷制的 | |
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90
mimic
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| v.模仿，戏弄；n.模仿他人言行的人 | |
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91
warfare
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| n.战争(状态)；斗争；冲突 | |
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92
flirtation
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| n.调情，调戏，挑逗 | |
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93
repent
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| v.悔悟，悔改，忏悔，后悔 | |
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94
utterly
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| adv.完全地，绝对地 | |
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95
impulsive
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| adj.冲动的，刺激的；有推动力的 | |
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96
amends
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| n. 赔偿 | |
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97
utterance
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| n.用言语表达，话语，言语 | |
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98
aristocrats
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| n.贵族( aristocrat的名词复数 ) | |
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99
hawk
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| n.鹰，骗子；鹰派成员 | |
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100
petulance
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| n.发脾气，生气，易怒，暴躁，性急 | |
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101
callous
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| adj.无情的，冷淡的，硬结的，起老茧的 | |
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102
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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103
wretch
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| n.可怜的人，不幸的人；卑鄙的人 | |
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104
fray
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| v.争吵；打斗；磨损，磨破；n.吵架；打斗 | |
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105
haughty
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| adj.傲慢的，高傲的 | |
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106
patronage
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| n.赞助，支援，援助；光顾，捧场 | |
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107
killing
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| n.巨额利润；突然赚大钱，发大财 | |
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108
sentient
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| adj.有知觉的，知悉的；adv.有感觉能力地 | |
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109
briefly
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| adv.简单地，简短地 | |
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110
beaks
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| n.鸟嘴( beak的名词复数 )；鹰钩嘴；尖鼻子；掌权者 | |
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111
fangs
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| n.（尤指狗和狼的）长而尖的牙( fang的名词复数 )；（蛇的）毒牙；罐座 | |
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112
carrion
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| n.腐肉 | |
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113
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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114
cannon
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| n.大炮，火炮；飞机上的机关炮 | |
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115
trumpets
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| 喇叭( trumpet的名词复数 )； 小号； 喇叭形物； （尤指）绽开的水仙花 | |
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116
droll
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| adj.古怪的，好笑的 | |
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117
momentary
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| adj.片刻的，瞬息的；短暂的 | |
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118
pathos
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| n.哀婉，悲怆 | |
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119
softened
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| （使）变软( soften的过去式和过去分词 )； 缓解打击； 缓和； 安慰 | |
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120
glistening
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| adj.闪耀的，反光的v.湿物闪耀，闪亮( glisten的现在分词 ) | |
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121
passionate
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| adj.热情的，热烈的，激昂的，易动情的，易怒的，性情暴躁的 | |
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122
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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123
vivacious
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| adj.活泼的，快活的 | |
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124
sensuous
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| adj.激发美感的；感官的，感觉上的 | |
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125
caress
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| vt./n.爱抚，抚摸 | |
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126
caressingly
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| 爱抚地，亲切地 | |
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127
mere
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| adj.纯粹的；仅仅，只不过 | |
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128
grumble
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| vi.抱怨；咕哝；n.抱怨，牢骚；咕哝，隆隆声 | |
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129
vaulted
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| adj.拱状的 | |
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130
tempestuously
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| adv.剧烈地，暴风雨似地 | |
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131
lustrously
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| adv.光亮地；有光泽地；灿烂地 | |
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132
allurement
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| n.诱惑物 | |
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133
disdained
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| 鄙视( disdain的过去式和过去分词 )； 不屑于做，不愿意做 | |
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134
beguilement
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| n.欺骗，散心，欺瞒 | |
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135
clinched
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| v.（尤指两人）互相紧紧抱[扭]住( clinch的过去式和过去分词 )；解决（争端、交易），达成（协议） | |
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136
piquant
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| adj.辛辣的，开胃的，令人兴奋的 | |
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137
picturesque
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| adj.美丽如画的，（语言）生动的，绘声绘色的 | |
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138
mischievous
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| adj.调皮的，恶作剧的，有害的，伤人的 | |
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139
awakened
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| v.（使）醒( awaken的过去式和过去分词 )；（使）觉醒；弄醒；（使）意识到 | |
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140
tainted
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| adj.腐坏的；污染的；沾污的；感染的v.使变质( taint的过去式和过去分词 )；使污染；败坏；被污染，腐坏，败坏 | |
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141
doomed
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| 命定的 | |
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142
scentless
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| adj.无气味的，遗臭已消失的 | |
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143
noxious
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| adj.有害的，有毒的；使道德败坏的，讨厌的 | |
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144
vice
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| n.坏事；恶习；[pl.]台钳，老虎钳；adj.副的 | |
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145
hoofs
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| n.（兽的）蹄，马蹄( hoof的名词复数 )v.（兽的）蹄，马蹄( hoof的第三人称单数 ) | |
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146
supple
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| adj.柔软的，易弯的，逢迎的，顺从的，灵活的；vt.使柔软，使柔顺，使顺从；vi.变柔软，变柔顺 | |
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147
scattering
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| n.[物]散射；散乱，分散；在媒介质中的散播adj.散乱的；分散在不同范围的；广泛扩散的；（选票）数量分散的v.散射(scatter的ing形式)；散布；驱散 | |
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148
attentively
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| adv.聚精会神地；周到地；谛；凝神 | |
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149
eloquent
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| adj.雄辩的，口才流利的；明白显示出的 | |
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150
growled
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| v.（动物）发狺狺声， （雷）作隆隆声( growl的过去式和过去分词 )；低声咆哮着说 | |
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151
mischief
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| n.损害，伤害，危害；恶作剧，捣蛋，胡闹 | |
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152
hauteur
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| n.傲慢 | |
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153
nonchalance
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| n.冷淡，漠不关心 | |
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154
insolence
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| n.傲慢；无礼；厚颜；傲慢的态度 | |
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155
warped
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| adj.反常的；乖戾的；（变）弯曲的；变形的v.弄弯，变歪( warp的过去式和过去分词 )；使（行为等）不合情理，使乖戾， | |
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156
pretext
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| n.借口，托词 | |
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157
vengeance
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| n.报复，报仇，复仇 | |
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158
pique
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| v.伤害…的自尊心，使生气 n.不满，生气 | |
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159
misty
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| adj.雾蒙蒙的，有雾的 | |
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160
insignificant
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| adj.无关紧要的，可忽略的，无意义的 | |
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161
supreme
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| adj.极度的，最重要的；至高的，最高的 | |
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162
frivolous
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| adj.轻薄的；轻率的 | |
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163
casement
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| n.竖铰链窗；窗扉 | |
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164
belle
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| n.靓女 | |
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165
fiddle
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| n.小提琴；vi.拉提琴；不停拨弄，乱动 | |
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166
glimmered
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| v.发闪光，发微光( glimmer的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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167
reeking
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| v.发出浓烈的臭气( reek的现在分词 )；散发臭气；发出难闻的气味 (of sth)；明显带有（令人不快或生疑的跡象） | |
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168
battered
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| adj.磨损的；v.连续猛击；磨损 | |
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169
exquisite
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| adj.精美的；敏锐的；剧烈的，感觉强烈的 | |
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170
wittiest
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| 机智的，言辞巧妙的，情趣横生的( witty的最高级 ) | |
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171
ballad
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| n.歌谣，民谣，流行爱情歌曲 | |
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172
entreated
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| 恳求，乞求( entreat的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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173
pigsty
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| n.猪圈，脏房间 | |
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174
chamber
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| n.房间，寝室；会议厅；议院；会所 | |
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175
tenor
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| n.男高音（歌手），次中音（乐器），要旨，大意 | |
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176
pandemonium
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| n.喧嚣，大混乱 | |
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