If Madame Walravens was hideous7 as a Hindoo idol8, she seemed also to possess, in the estimation of these her votaries9, an idol’s consequence. The fact was, she had been rich — very rich; and though, for the present, without the command of money, she was likely one day to be rich again. At Basseterre, in Guadaloupe, she possessed10 a large estate, received in dowry on her marriage sixty years ago, sequestered11 since her husband’s failure; but now, it was supposed, cleared of claim, and, if duly looked after by a competent agent of integrity, considered capable of being made, in a few years, largely productive.
Père Silas took an interest in this prospective12 improvement for the sake of religion and the church, whereof Magliore Walravens was a devout13 daughter. Madame Beck, distantly related to the hunchback and knowing her to be without family of her own, had long brooded over contingencies14 with a mother’s calculating forethought, and, harshly treated as she was by Madame Walravens, never ceased to court her for interest’s sake. Madame Beck and the priest were thus, for money reasons, equally and sincerely interested in the nursing of the West Indian estate.
But the distance was great, and the climate hazardous15. The competent and upright agent wanted, must be a devoted16 man. Just such a man had Madame Walravens retained for twenty years in her service, blighting17 his life, and then living on him, like an old fungus19; such a man had Père Silas trained, taught, and bound to him by the ties of gratitude20, habit, and belief. Such a man Madame Beck knew, and could in some measure influence. “My pupil,” said Père Silas, “if he remains21 in Europe, runs risk of apostacy, for he has become entangled22 with a heretic.” Madame Beck made also her private comment, and preferred in her own breast her secret reason for desiring expatriation. The thing she could not obtain, she desired not another to win: rather would she destroy it. As to Madame Walravens, she wanted her money and her land, and knew Paul, if he liked, could make the best and faithfullest steward23: so the three self-seekers banded and beset25 the one unselfish. They reasoned, they appealed, they implored26; on his mercy they cast themselves, into his hands they confidingly27 thrust their interests. They asked but two or three years of devotion — after that, he should live for himself: one of the number, perhaps, wished that in the meantime he might die.
No living being ever humbly28 laid his advantage at M. Emanuel’s feet, or confidingly put it into his hands, that he spurned29 the trust or repulsed30 the repository. What might be his private pain or inward reluctance31 to leave Europe — what his calculations for his own future — none asked, or knew, or reported. All this was a blank to me. His conferences with his confessor I might guess; the part duty and religion were made to play in the persuasions33 used, I might conjecture34. He was gone, and had made no sign. There my knowledge closed.
With my head bent35, and my forehead resting on my hands, I sat amidst grouped tree-stems and branching brushwood. Whatever talk passed amongst my neighbours, I might hear, if I would; I was near enough; but for some time, there was scarce motive36 to attend. They gossiped about the dresses, the music, the illuminations, the fine night. I listened to hear them say, “It is calm weather for his voyage; the Antigua“ (his ship) “will sail prosperously.” No such remark fell; neither the Antigua, nor her course, nor her passenger were named.
Perhaps the light chat scarcely interested old Madame Walravens more than it did me; she appeared restless, turning her head now to this side, now that, looking through the trees, and among the crowd, as if expectant of an arrival and impatient of delay. “Où sont-ils? Pourquoi ne viennent-ils?” I heard her mutter more than once; and at last, as if determined37 to have an answer to her question — which hitherto none seemed to mind, she spoke38 aloud this phrase — a phrase brief enough, simple enough, but it sent a shock through me —“Messieurs et mesdames,” said she, “où donc est Justine Marie?”
“Justine Marie!” What was this? Justine Marie — the dead nun39 — where was she? Why, in her grave, Madame Walravens — what can you want with her? You shall go to her, but she shall not come to you.
Thus I should have answered, had the response lain with me, but nobody seemed to be of my mind; nobody seemed surprised, startled, or at a loss. The quietest commonplace answer met the strange, the dead-disturbing, the Witch-of-Endor query40 of the hunchback.
“Justine Marie,” said one, “is coming; she is in the kiosk; she will be here presently.”
Out of this question and reply sprang a change in the chat — chat it still remained, easy, desultory41, familiar gossip. Hint, allusion42, comment, went round the circle, but all so broken, so dependent on references to persons not named, or circumstances not defined, that listen as intently as I would — and I did listen now with a fated interest — I could make out no more than that some scheme was on foot, in which this ghostly Justine Marie — dead or alive — was concerned. This family-junta43 seemed grasping at her somehow, for some reason; there seemed question of a marriage, of a fortune — for whom I could not quite make out-perhaps for Victor Kint, perhaps for Josef Emanuel — both were bachelors. Once I thought the hints and jests rained upon a young fair-haired foreigner of the party, whom they called Heinrich Mühler. Amidst all the badinage45, Madame Walravens still obtruded46 from time to time, hoarse47, cross-grained speeches; her impatience48 being diverted only by an implacable surveillance of Désirée, who could not stir but the old woman menaced her with her staff.
“La voilà!” suddenly cried one of the gentlemen, “voilà Justine Marie qui arrive!”
This moment was for me peculiar49. I called up to memory the pictured nun on the panel; present to my mind was the sad love-story; I saw in thought the vision of the garret, the apparition50 of the alley51, the strange birth of the berceau; I underwent a presentiment52 of discovery, a strong conviction of coming disclosure. Ah! when imagination once runs riot where do we stop? What winter tree so bare and branchless — what way-side, hedge-munching animal so humble53, that Fancy, a passing cloud, and a struggling moonbeam, will not clothe it in spirituality, and make of it a phantom54?
With solemn force pressed on my heart, the expectation of mystery breaking up: hitherto I had seen this spectre only through a glass darkly; now was I to behold55 it face to face. I leaned forward; I looked.
“She comes!” cried Josef Emanuel.
The circle opened as if opening to admit a new and welcome member. At this instant a torch chanced to be carried past; its blaze aided the pale moon in doing justice to the crisis, in lighting18 to perfection the dénouement pressing on. Surely those near me must have felt some little of the anxiety I felt, in degree so unmeted. Of that group the coolest must have “held his breath for a time!” As for me, my life stood still.
It is over. The moment and the nun are come. The crisis and the revelation are passed by.
The flambeau glares still within a yard, held up in a park-keeper’s hand; its long eager tongue of flame almost licks the figure of the Expected — there — where she stands full in my sight. What is she like? What does she wear? How does she look? Who is she?
There are many masks in the park to-night, and as the hour wears late, so strange a feeling of revelry and mystery begins to spread abroad, that scarce would you discredit56 me, reader, were I to say that she is like the nun of the attic57, that she wears black skirts and white head-clothes, that she looks the resurrection of the flesh, and that she is a risen ghost.
All falsities — all figments! We will not deal in this gear. Let us be honest, and cut, as heretofore, from the homely59 web of truth.
Homely, though, is an ill-chosen word. What I see is not precisely60 homely. A girl of Villette stands there — a girl fresh from her pensionnat. She is very comely61, with the beauty indigenous62 to this country. She looks well-nourished, fair, and fat of flesh. Her cheeks are round, her eyes good; her hair is abundant. She is handsomely dressed. She is not alone; her escort consists of three persons — two being elderly; these she addresses as “Mon Oncle” and “Ma Tante.” She laughs, she chats; good-humoured, buxom63, and blooming, she looks, at all points, the bourgeoise belle64.
“So much for Justine Marie;” so much for ghosts and mystery: not that this last was solved — this girl certainly is not my nun: what I saw in the garret and garden must have been taller by a span.
We have looked at the city belle; we have cursorily65 glanced at the respectable old uncle and aunt. Have we a stray glance to give to the third member of this company? Can we spare him a moment’s notice? We ought to distinguish him so far, reader; he has claims on us; we do not now meet him for the first time. I clasped my hands very hard, and I drew my breath very deep: I held in the cry, I devoured66 the ejaculation, I forbade the start, I spoke and I stirred no more than a stone; but I knew what I looked on; through the dimness left in my eyes by many nights’ weeping, I knew him. They said he was to sail by the Antigua. Madame Beck said so. She lied, or she had uttered what was once truth, and failed to contradict it when it became false. The Antigua was gone, and there stood Paul Emanuel.
Was I glad? A huge load left me. Was it a fact to warrant joy? I know not. Ask first what were the circumstances attendant on this respite67? How far did this delay concern me? Were there not those whom it might touch more nearly?
After all, who may this young girl, this Justine Marie, be? Not a stranger, reader; she is known to me by sight; she visits at the Rue68 Fossette: she is often of Madame Beck’s Sunday parties. She is a relation of both the Becks and Walravens; she derives69 her baptismal name from the sainted nun who would have been her aunt had she lived; her patronymic is Sauveur; she is an heiress and an orphan70, and M. Emanuel is her guardian71; some say her godfather.
The family junta wish this heiress to be married to one of their band — which is it? Vital question — which is it?
I felt very glad now, that the drug administered in the sweet draught72 had filled me with a possession which made bed and chamber73 intolerable. I always, through my whole life, liked to penetrate74 to the real truth; I like seeking the goddess in her temple, and handling the veil, and daring the dread75 glance. O Titaness among deities76! the covered outline of thine aspect sickens often through its uncertainty77, but define to us one trait, show us one lineament, clear in awful sincerity78; we may gasp79 in untold80 terror, but with that gasp we drink in a breath of thy divinity; our heart shakes, and its currents sway like rivers lifted by earthquake, but we have swallowed strength. To see and know the worst is to take from Fear her main advantage.
The Walravens’ party, augmented81 in numbers, now became very gay. The gentlemen fetched refreshments82 from the kiosk, all sat down on the turf under the trees; they drank healths and sentiments; they laughed, they jested. M. Emanuel underwent some raillery, half good-humoured, half, I thought, malicious83, especially on Madame Beck’s part. I soon gathered that his voyage had been temporarily deferred84 of his own will, without the concurrence85, even against the advice, of his friends; he had let the Antigua go, and had taken his berth86 in the Paul et Virginie, appointed to sail a fortnight later. It was his reason for this resolve which they teased him to assign, and which he would only vaguely87 indicate as “the settlement of a little piece of business which he had set his heart upon.” What was this business? Nobody knew. Yes, there was one who seemed partly, at least, in his confidence; a meaning look passed between him and Justine Marie. “La petite va m’aider — n’est-ce pas?” said he. The answer was prompt enough, God knows?
“Mais oui, je vous aiderai de tout88 mon coeur. Vous ferez de moi tout ce que vous voudrez, mon parrain.”
And this dear “parrain” took her hand and lifted it to his grateful lips. Upon which demonstration89, I saw the light-complexioned young Teuton, Heinrich Mühler, grow restless, as if he did not like it. He even grumbled90 a few words, whereat M. Emanuel actually laughed in his face, and with the ruthless triumph of the assured conqueror91, he drew his ward24 nearer to him.
M. Emanuel was indeed very joyous92 that night. He seemed not one whit58 subdued93 by the change of scene and action impending94. He was the true life of the party; a little despotic, perhaps, determined to be chief in mirth, as well as in labour, yet from moment to moment proving indisputably his right of leadership. His was the wittiest95 word, the pleasantest anecdote96, the frankest laugh. Restlessly active, after his manner, he multiplied himself to wait on all; but oh! I saw which was his favourite. I saw at whose feet he lay on the turf, I saw whom he folded carefully from the night air, whom he tended, watched, and cherished as the apple of his eye.
Still, hint and raillery flew thick, and still I gathered that while M. Paul should be absent, working for others, these others, not quite ungrateful, would guard for him the treasure he left in Europe. Let him bring them an Indian fortune: they would give him in return a young bride and a rich inheritance. As for the saintly consecration97, the vow98 of constancy, that was forgotten: the blooming and charming Present prevailed over the Past; and, at length, his nun was indeed buried.
Thus it must be. The revelation was indeed come. Presentiment had not been mistaken in her impulse: there is a kind of presentiment which never is mistaken; it was I who had for a moment miscalculated; not seeing the true bearing of the oracle99, I had thought she muttered of vision when, in truth, her prediction touched reality.
I might have paused longer upon what I saw; I might have deliberated ere I drew inferences. Some, perhaps, would have held the premises100 doubtful, the proofs insufficient101; some slow sceptics would have incredulously examined ere they conclusively102 accepted the project of a marriage between a poor and unselfish man of forty, and his wealthy ward of eighteen; but far from me such shifts and palliatives, far from me such temporary evasion103 of the actual, such coward fleeing from the dread, the swift-footed, the all-overtaking Fact, such feeble suspense104 of submission105 to her the sole sovereign, such paltering and faltering106 resistance to the Power whose errand is to march conquering and to conquer, such traitor107 defection from the truth.
No. I hastened to accept the whole plan. I extended my grasp and took it all in. I gathered it to me with a sort of rage of haste, and folded it round me, as the soldier struck on the field folds his colours about his breast. I invoked108 Conviction to nail upon me the certainty, abhorred109 while embraced, to fix it with the strongest spikes110 her strongest strokes could drive; and when the iron had entered well my soul, I stood up, as I thought, renovated111.
In my infatuation, I said, “Truth, you are a good mistress to your faithful servants! While a Lie pressed me, how I suffered! Even when the Falsehood was still sweet, still flattering to the fancy, and warm to the feelings, it wasted me with hourly torment112. The persuasion32 that affection was won could not be divorced from the dread that, by another turn of the wheel, it might be lost. Truth stripped away Falsehood, and Flattery, and Expectancy113, and here I stand — free!”
Nothing remained now but to take my freedom to my chamber, to carry it with me to my bed and see what I could make of it. The play was not yet, indeed, quite played out. I might have waited and watched longer that love-scene under the trees, that sylvan114 courtship. Had there been nothing of love in the demonstration, my Fancy in this hour was so generous, so creative, she could have modelled for it the most salient lineaments, and given it the deepest life and highest colour of passion. But I would not look; I had fixed115 my resolve, but I would not violate my nature. And then — something tore me so cruelly under my shawl, something so dug into my side, a vulture so strong in beak116 and talon117, I must be alone to grapple with it. I think I never felt jealousy118 till now. This was not like enduring the endearments119 of Dr. John and Paulina, against which while I sealed my eyes and my ears, while I withdrew thence my thoughts, my sense of harmony still acknowledged in it a charm. This was an outrage120. The love born of beauty was not mine; I had nothing in common with it: I could not dare to meddle121 with it, but another love, venturing diffidently into life after long acquaintance, furnace-tried by pain, stamped by constancy, consolidated122 by affection’s pure and durable123 alloy124, submitted by intellect to intellect’s own tests, and finally wrought125 up, by his own process, to his own unflawed completeness, this Love that laughed at Passion, his fast frenzies126 and his hot and hurried extinction127, in this Love I had a vested interest; and whatever tended either to its culture or its destruction, I could not view impassibly.
I turned from the group of trees and the “merrie companie” in its shade. Midnight was long past; the concert was over, the crowds were thinning. I followed the ebb128. Leaving the radiant park and well-lit Haute-Ville (still well lit, this it seems was to be a “nuit blanche” in Villette), I sought the dim lower quarter.
Dim I should not say, for the beauty of moonlight — forgotten in the park — here once more flowed in upon perception. High she rode, and calm and stainlessly she shone. The music and the mirth of the fête, the fire and bright hues129 of those lamps had out-done and out-shone her for an hour, but now, again, her glory and her silence triumphed. The rival lamps were dying: she held her course like a white fate. Drum, trumpet130, bugle131, had uttered their clangour, and were forgotten; with pencil-ray she wrote on heaven and on earth records for archives everlasting132. She and those stars seemed to me at once the types and witnesses of truth all regnant. The night-sky lit her reign44: like its slow-wheeling progress, advanced her victory — that onward133 movement which has been, and is, and will be from eternity134 to eternity.
These oil-twinkling streets are very still: I like them for their lowliness and peace. Homeward-bound burghers pass me now and then, but these companies are pedestrians135, make little noise, and are soon gone. So well do I love Villette under her present aspect, not willingly would I re-enter under a roof, but that I am bent on pursuing my strange adventure to a successful close, and quietly regaining136 my bed in the great dormitory, before Madame Beck comes home.
Only one street lies between me and the Rue Fossette; as I enter it, for the first time, the sound of a carriage tears up the deep peace of this quarter. It comes this way — comes very fast. How loud sounds its rattle137 on the paved path! The street is narrow, and I keep carefully to the causeway. The carriage thunders past, but what do I see, or fancy I see, as it rushes by? Surely something white fluttered from that window — surely a hand waved a handkerchief. Was that signal meant for me? Am I known? Who could recognise me? That is not M. de Bassompierre’s carriage, nor Mrs. Bretton’s; and besides, neither the H?tel Crécy nor the chateau138 of La Terrasse lies in that direction. Well, I have no time for conjecture; I must hurry home.
Gaining the Rue Fossette, reaching the pensionnat, all there was still; no fiacre had yet arrived with Madame and Désirée. I had left the great door ajar; should I find it thus? Perhaps the wind or some other accident may have thrown it to with sufficient force to start the spring-bolt? In that case, hopeless became admission; my adventure must issue in catastrophe139. I lightly pushed the heavy leaf; would it yield?
Yes. As soundless, as unresisting, as if some propitious140 genius had waited on a sesame-charm, in the vestibule within. Entering with bated breath, quietly making all fast, shoelessly mounting the staircase, I sought the dormitory, and reached my couch.
Ay! I reached it, and once more drew a free inspiration. The next moment, I almost shrieked141 — almost, but not quite, thank Heaven!
Throughout the dormitory, throughout the house, there reigned142 at this hour the stillness of death. All slept, and in such hush143, it seemed that none dreamed. Stretched on the nineteen beds lay nineteen forms, at full-length and motionless. On mine — the twentieth couch — nothing ought to have lain: I had left it void, and void should have found it. What, then; do I see between the half-drawn curtains? What dark, usurping144 shape, supine, long, and strange? Is it a robber who has made his way through the open street-door, and lies there in wait? It looks very black, I think it looks — not human. Can it be a wandering dog that has come in from the street and crept and nestled hither? Will it spring, will it leap out if I approach? Approach I must. Courage! One step! —
My head reeled, for by the faint night-lamp, I saw stretched on my bed the old phantom — the Nun.
A cry at this moment might have ruined me. Be the spectacle what it might, I could afford neither consternation145, scream, nor swoon. Besides, I was not overcome. Tempered by late incidents, my nerves disdained146 hysteria. Warm from illuminations, and music, and thronging147 thousands, thoroughly148 lashed3 up by a new scourge149, I defied spectra150. In a moment, without exclamation151, I had rushed on the haunted couch; nothing leaped out, or sprung, or stirred; all the movement was mine, so was all the life, the reality, the substance, the force; as my instinct felt. I tore her up — the incubus152! I held her on high — the goblin! I shook her loose — the mystery! And down she fell — down all around me — down in shreds153 and fragments — and I trode upon her.
Here again — behold the branchless tree, the unstabled Rosinante; the film of cloud, the flicker154 of moonshine. The long nun proved a long bolster155 dressed in a long black stole, and artfully invested with a white veil. The garments in very truth, strange as it may seem, were genuine nun’s garments, and by some hand they had been disposed with a view to illusion. Whence came these vestments? Who contrived156 this artifice157? These questions still remained. To the head-bandage was pinned a slip of paper: it bore in pencil these mocking words —
“The nun of the attic bequeaths to Lucy Snowe her wardrobe. She will be seen in the Rue Fossette no more.”
And what and who was she that had haunted me? She, I had actually seen three times. Not a woman of my acquaintance had the stature158 of that ghost. She was not of a female height. Not to any man I knew could the machination, for a moment, be attributed.
Still mystified beyond expression, but as thoroughly, as suddenly, relieved from all sense of the spectral159 and unearthly; scorning also to wear out my brain with the fret160 of a trivial though insoluble riddle161, I just bundled together stole, veil, and bandages, thrust them beneath my pillow, lay down, listened till I heard the wheels of Madame’s home-returning fiacre, then turned, and worn out by many nights’ vigils, conquered, too, perhaps, by the now reacting narcotic162, I deeply slept.
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clique
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| n.朋党派系，小集团 | |
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canopy
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| n.天篷，遮篷 | |
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lashed
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| adj.具睫毛的v.鞭打( lash的过去式和过去分词 )；煽动；紧系；怒斥 | |
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briefly
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| adv.简单地，简短地 | |
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gathering
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| n.集会，聚会，聚集 | |
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rumour
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| n.谣言，谣传，传闻 | |
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hideous
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| adj.丑陋的，可憎的，可怕的，恐怖的 | |
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idol
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| n.偶像，红人，宠儿 | |
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votaries
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| n.信徒( votary的名词复数 )；追随者；（天主教）修士；修女 | |
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possessed
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| adj.疯狂的；拥有的，占有的 | |
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sequestered
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| adj.扣押的；隐退的；幽静的；偏僻的v.使隔绝，使隔离( sequester的过去式和过去分词 )；扣押 | |
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prospective
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| adj.预期的，未来的，前瞻性的 | |
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devout
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| adj.虔诚的，虔敬的，衷心的 (n.devoutness) | |
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contingencies
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| n.偶然发生的事故，意外事故( contingency的名词复数 )；以备万一 | |
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hazardous
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| adj.(有)危险的，冒险的；碰运气的 | |
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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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blighting
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| 使凋萎( blight的现在分词 )； 使颓丧； 损害； 妨害 | |
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lighting
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| n.照明，光线的明暗，舞台灯光 | |
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fungus
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| n.真菌，真菌类植物 | |
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gratitude
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remains
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entangled
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| adj.卷入的；陷入的；被缠住的；缠在一起的v.使某人（某物/自己）缠绕，纠缠于（某物中），使某人（自己）陷入（困难或复杂的环境中）( entangle的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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steward
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ward
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| n.守卫，监护，病房，行政区，由监护人或法院保护的人（尤指儿童）；vt.守护，躲开 | |
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beset
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implored
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confidingly
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humbly
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spurned
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| v.一脚踢开，拒绝接受( spurn的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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repulsed
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reluctance
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| n.厌恶，讨厌，勉强，不情愿 | |
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persuasion
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| n.劝说；说服；持有某种信仰的宗派 | |
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persuasions
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conjecture
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bent
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| n.爱好，癖好；adj.弯的；决心的，一心的 | |
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36
motive
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| n.动机，目的；adv.发动的，运动的 | |
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37
determined
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| adj.坚定的；有决心的 | |
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38
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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39
nun
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| n.修女，尼姑 | |
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40
query
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| n.疑问，问号，质问；vt.询问，表示怀疑 | |
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41
desultory
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| adj.散漫的，无方法的 | |
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42
allusion
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| n.暗示，间接提示 | |
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43
junta
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| n.团体；政务审议会 | |
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44
reign
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| n.统治时期，统治，支配，盛行；v.占优势 | |
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45
badinage
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| n.开玩笑，打趣 | |
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46
obtruded
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| v.强行向前，强行，强迫( obtrude的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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47
hoarse
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| adj.嘶哑的，沙哑的 | |
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48
impatience
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| n.不耐烦，急躁 | |
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49
peculiar
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| adj.古怪的，异常的；特殊的，特有的 | |
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50
apparition
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| n.幽灵，神奇的现象 | |
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51
alley
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| n.小巷，胡同；小径，小路 | |
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52
presentiment
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| n.预感，预觉 | |
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53
humble
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| adj.谦卑的，恭顺的；地位低下的；v.降低，贬低 | |
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54
phantom
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| n.幻影，虚位，幽灵；adj.错觉的，幻影的，幽灵的 | |
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55
behold
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| v.看，注视，看到 | |
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56
discredit
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| vt.使不可置信；n.丧失信义；不信，怀疑 | |
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57
attic
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| n.顶楼，屋顶室 | |
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58
whit
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| n.一点，丝毫 | |
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59
homely
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| adj.家常的，简朴的；不漂亮的 | |
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60
precisely
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| adv.恰好，正好，精确地，细致地 | |
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61
comely
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| adj.漂亮的，合宜的 | |
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62
indigenous
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| adj.土产的，土生土长的，本地的 | |
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63
buxom
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| adj.（妇女）丰满的，有健康美的 | |
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64
belle
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| n.靓女 | |
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65
cursorily
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| adv.粗糙地，疏忽地，马虎地 | |
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66
devoured
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| 吞没( devour的过去式和过去分词 )； 耗尽； 津津有味地看； 狼吞虎咽地吃光 | |
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67
respite
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| n.休息，中止，暂缓 | |
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68
rue
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| n.懊悔，芸香，后悔；v.后悔，悲伤，懊悔 | |
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69
derives
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| v.得到( derive的第三人称单数 )；（从…中）得到获得；源于；（从…中）提取 | |
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70
orphan
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| n.孤儿；adj.无父母的 | |
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71
guardian
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| n.监护人；守卫者，保护者 | |
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72
draught
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| n.拉，牵引，拖；一网（饮，吸，阵)；顿服药量，通风；v.起草，设计 | |
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73
chamber
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| n.房间，寝室；会议厅；议院；会所 | |
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74
penetrate
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| v.透(渗)入；刺入，刺穿；洞察，了解 | |
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75
dread
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| vt.担忧，忧虑；惧怕，不敢；n.担忧，畏惧 | |
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76
deities
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| n.神，女神( deity的名词复数 )；神祗；神灵；神明 | |
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77
uncertainty
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| n.易变，靠不住，不确知，不确定的事物 | |
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78
sincerity
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| n.真诚，诚意；真实 | |
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79
gasp
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| n.喘息，气喘；v.喘息；气吁吁他说 | |
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80
untold
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| adj.数不清的，无数的 | |
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81
Augmented
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| adj.增音的 动词augment的过去式和过去分词形式 | |
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82
refreshments
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| n.点心,便餐;(会议后的)简单茶点招 待 | |
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83
malicious
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| adj.有恶意的，心怀恶意的 | |
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84
deferred
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| adj.延期的，缓召的v.拖延，延缓，推迟( defer的过去式和过去分词 )；服从某人的意愿，遵从 | |
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85
concurrence
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| n.同意；并发 | |
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86
berth
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| n.卧铺，停泊地，锚位；v.使停泊 | |
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87
vaguely
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| adv.含糊地，暖昧地 | |
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88
tout
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| v.推销，招徕；兜售；吹捧，劝诱 | |
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89
demonstration
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| n.表明，示范，论证，示威 | |
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90
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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91
conqueror
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| n.征服者，胜利者 | |
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92
joyous
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| adj.充满快乐的；令人高兴的 | |
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93
subdued
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| adj. 屈服的，柔和的，减弱的 动词subdue的过去式和过去分词 | |
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94
impending
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| a.imminent, about to come or happen | |
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95
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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96
anecdote
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| n.轶事，趣闻，短故事 | |
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97
consecration
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| n.供献，奉献，献祭仪式 | |
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98
vow
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| n.誓(言)，誓约；v.起誓，立誓 | |
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99
oracle
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| n.神谕，神谕处，预言 | |
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100
premises
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| n.建筑物，房屋 | |
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101
insufficient
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| adj.(for，of)不足的，不够的 | |
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102
conclusively
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| adv.令人信服地，确凿地 | |
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103
evasion
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| n.逃避，偷漏(税) | |
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104
suspense
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| n.（对可能发生的事）紧张感，担心，挂虑 | |
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105
submission
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| n.服从，投降；温顺，谦虚；提出 | |
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106
faltering
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| 犹豫的，支吾的，蹒跚的 | |
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107
traitor
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| n.叛徒，卖国贼 | |
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108
invoked
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| v.援引( invoke的过去式和过去分词 )；行使（权利等）；祈求救助；恳求 | |
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109
abhorred
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| v.憎恶( abhor的过去式和过去分词 )；（厌恶地）回避；拒绝；淘汰 | |
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110
spikes
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| n.穗( spike的名词复数 )；跑鞋；（防滑）鞋钉；尖状物v.加烈酒于( spike的第三人称单数 )；偷偷地给某人的饮料加入（更多）酒精（ 或药物）；把尖状物钉入；打乱某人的计划 | |
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111
renovated
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| 翻新，修复，整修( renovate的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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112
torment
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| n.折磨；令人痛苦的东西(人)；vt.折磨；纠缠 | |
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113
expectancy
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| n.期望，预期，（根据概率统计求得）预期数额 | |
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114
sylvan
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| adj.森林的 | |
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115
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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116
beak
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| n.鸟嘴，茶壶嘴，钩形鼻 | |
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117
talon
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| n.爪；（如爪般的）手指；爪状物 | |
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118
jealousy
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| n.妒忌，嫉妒，猜忌 | |
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119
endearments
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| n.表示爱慕的话语，亲热的表示( endearment的名词复数 ) | |
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120
outrage
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| n.暴行，侮辱，愤怒；vt.凌辱，激怒 | |
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121
meddle
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| v.干预，干涉，插手 | |
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122
consolidated
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| a.联合的 | |
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123
durable
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| adj.持久的，耐久的 | |
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124
alloy
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| n.合金，(金属的)成色 | |
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125
wrought
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| v.引起；以…原料制作；运转；adj.制造的 | |
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126
frenzies
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| 狂乱( frenzy的名词复数 )； 极度的激动 | |
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127
extinction
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| n.熄灭，消亡，消灭，灭绝，绝种 | |
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128
ebb
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| vi.衰退，减退；n.处于低潮，处于衰退状态 | |
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129
hues
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| 色彩( hue的名词复数 )； 色调； 信仰； 观点 | |
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130
trumpet
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| n.喇叭，喇叭声；v.吹喇叭，吹嘘 | |
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131
bugle
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| n.军号，号角，喇叭；v.吹号，吹号召集 | |
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132
everlasting
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| adj.永恒的，持久的，无止境的 | |
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133
onward
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| adj.向前的，前进的；adv.向前，前进，在先 | |
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134
eternity
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| n.不朽，来世；永恒，无穷 | |
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135
pedestrians
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| n.步行者( pedestrian的名词复数 ) | |
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136
regaining
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| 复得( regain的现在分词 )； 赢回； 重回； 复至某地 | |
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137
rattle
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| v.飞奔，碰响；激怒；n.碰撞声；拨浪鼓 | |
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138
chateau
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| n.城堡，别墅 | |
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139
catastrophe
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| n.大灾难，大祸 | |
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140
propitious
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| adj.吉利的；顺利的 | |
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141
shrieked
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| v.尖叫( shriek的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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142
reigned
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| vi.当政，统治（reign的过去式形式） | |
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143
hush
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| int.嘘，别出声；n.沉默，静寂；v.使安静 | |
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144
usurping
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| 篡夺，霸占( usurp的现在分词 )； 盗用； 篡夺，篡权 | |
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145
consternation
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| n.大为吃惊，惊骇 | |
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146
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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147
thronging
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| v.成群，挤满( throng的现在分词 ) | |
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148
thoroughly
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| adv.完全地，彻底地，十足地 | |
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149
scourge
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| n.灾难，祸害；v.蹂躏 | |
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150
spectra
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| n.光谱 | |
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151
exclamation
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| n.感叹号，惊呼，惊叹词 | |
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152
incubus
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| n.负担；恶梦 | |
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153
shreds
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| v.撕碎，切碎( shred的第三人称单数 )；用撕毁机撕毁（文件） | |
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154
flicker
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| vi./n.闪烁，摇曳，闪现 | |
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155
bolster
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| n.枕垫；v.支持，鼓励 | |
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156
contrived
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| adj.不自然的，做作的；虚构的 | |
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157
artifice
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| n.妙计，高明的手段；狡诈，诡计 | |
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158
stature
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| n.（高度）水平，（高度）境界，身高，身材 | |
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159
spectral
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| adj.幽灵的，鬼魂的 | |
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160
fret
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| v.(使)烦恼；(使)焦急；(使)腐蚀，(使)磨损 | |
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161
riddle
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| n.谜，谜语，粗筛；vt.解谜，给…出谜，筛，检查，鉴定，非难，充满于；vi.出谜 | |
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162
narcotic
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| n.麻醉药，镇静剂；adj.麻醉的，催眠的 | |
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