It was really a scratch party of nobodies, and they assembled as usual in the drawing-room on this especial evening, to play and not to work. Mrs. Taine laid aside her eternal knitting; Miss Bull dispensed5 with her game of "Patience;" Mr. Granger sang his one song of the early Victorian Epoch--sometimes twice when singers were scarce; and Mr. Harmer wore his antiquated6 dress-suit. On these festive7 occasions it was tacitly understood that all were to be more or less "dressy," as Mrs. Jersey put it, and her appearance in "the diamonds" signalized the need of unusual adornment8. These jewels were the smallest and most inferior of stones; but diamonds they undeniably were, and the boarders alluded9 to them as they would have done to the Kohinoor.
In her black silk gown, her lace cap, and "the diamonds" Mrs. Jersey looked--so they assured her--quite the lady.
Was he a lady? No one ever asked that leading question, as it would have provoked an untruth or a most unpleasant reply. She admitted in expansive moments to having seen "better days," but what her actual past had been--and from her looks she had one--none ever discovered. The usual story, produced by an extra glass of negus, varied10 so greatly in the telling that the most innocent boarder doubted. But Mrs. Jersey was always treated with respect, and the boarders called her "Madame" in quite a French way. Why they should do so, no one ever knew, and Mrs. Jersey herself could not have explained. But the term had become traditional, and in that conservative mansion11 tradition was all-powerful.
Few friends presented themselves on this particular Friday evening, for it was extremely foggy, and none of them could afford cabs. Even those who patronized the nearest bus line, had some distance to walk before they knocked at the Jersey door, and thus ran a chance of losing their way. Either in light or darkness the house was hard to find, for it occupied the corner of a particularly private square far removed from the Oxford12 Street traffic. As a kind of haven13 or back-water, it received into its peace those who found the current of the River of Life running too strong. Decayed ladies, disappointed spinsters, superannuated15 clerks, retired16 army officers, bankrupt dreamers--these were the derelicts which had drifted hither. Mrs. Jersey called these social and commercial failures "paying guests," which flattered their pride and cost nothing. She was something of a humbug17, and always ready with the small change of politeness.
It was quite an asylum18 for old age. None of the guests were under fifty, save a newcomer who had arrived the previous week, and they wondered why he came amongst them. He was young, though plain-looking; he was fashionably dressed, though stout19, and he chatted a West-End jargon20, curiously21 flippant when contrasted with their prim22 conversation. This was the first time he had been present at Madame's reception, and he was explaining his reasons for coming to Bloomsbury. Mrs. Jersey introduced him as "Leonard Train, the distinguished23 novelist," although he had published only one book at his own cost, and even that production was unknown to the boarders. They read Thackeray and his contemporaries, and manifested a proper scorn for the up-to-date novelist and his analytical24 methods.
Mr. Train, with a complacency which showed that he entertained the highest opinion of his own powers, stood on the hearth-rug, and delivered himself of his errand to Bloomsbury.
"Fashionable novelists," said he, in a still, small voice, which contrasted curiously with his massive proportions, "have overdone25 the business of society and epigrams. We must revert26 to the Dickens style. I have therefore taken up my residence here for a brief period to study Old-World types." Here he looked round with a beaming smile. "I am glad to find so rich a field to glean27."
This doubtful compliment provoked weak smiles. The boarders did not wish to be rude, but they felt it was impossible to approve of the young man. Not being sufficiently28 modern to court notoriety, one and all disliked the idea of being "put in a book." Mrs. Taine, conscious of her weak grammar, looked uneasily at Miss Bull, who smiled grimly and then glared at Train. Granger drew himself up and pulled his gray mustache; he was the buck29 of the establishment, and Harmer nodded, saying, "Well, well!" his usual remark when he did not understand what was going on. Only Madame spoke30. Train had taken a sitting-room31 as well as a bedroom, therefore he must be rich, and as he had not haggled32 over terms it was necessary that he should be flattered. Mrs. Jersey saw a chance of making money out of him.
"How delightful33," she said in her motherly manner; "I hope you will say nice things about us, Mr. Train."
"I shall tell the truth, Madame. The truth does not flatter."
Mrs. Jersey became still more motherly and paid a compliment. "That depends, Mr. Train. If the truth were spoken about you, for instance."
It was really a very nice compliment; but Miss Bull, with malice34 aforethought, spoilt it in the utterance35 by laughing pointedly36. Train, who had already set his face for a smile, grew red, and Madame darted37 a look at Miss Bull quite out of keeping with her motherly manner. More than this, she spoke her mind. "I hope, Mr. Train, that you will speak the whole truth of some of us."
Miss Bull shrugged38 her thin shoulders, and in direct contradiction to the traditions of the evening produced her pack of cards. She played a complicated game called "The Demon," and never went to bed until she had achieved success at least thrice. Even when driven from the drawing-room she would finish the game in her bedroom, and sometimes sat up half the night when her luck was bad. To abstain39 on this society evening always annoyed her, and since Madame had been rude Miss Bull seized the opportunity to show her indifference40, and enjoy, by doing so, her favorite pastime. She was a small, thin, dry old maid, with a pallid41 face and bright black eyes. Her mouth was hard, and smiled treacherously42. No one liked her save Margery, the niece of Mrs. Jersey. But Margery was supposed to be queer, so her approval of Miss Bull mattered little.
"Perhaps Mr. Granger will oblige us with a song," suggested Madame, smoothing her face, but still inwardly furious.
Mr. Granger, who had been waiting for this moment, was only too happy. He knew but one song, and had sung it dozens of times in that very room. It was natural to suppose that he knew it by heart. All the same he produced his music, and read the words as he sang. Margery played his accompaniment without looking at the notes. She was as familiar with them as she was with the moment when Mr. Granger's voice would crack. This night he cracked as usual, apologized as usual, and his hearers accepted the apology as usual, so it was all very pleasant. "'The Death of Nelson,'" said Granger, "is a difficult song to sing when the singer is not in voice. The fog, you know----"
"Quite so," murmured Train, politely. "Do you know 'Will-o-the-Wisp,' Mr. Granger?"
Mr. Granger did not, much to his regret, and Mr. Harmer joined in the conversation. "Now there's a song," said he--"'Will-o-the-Wisp.' I knew a man who could bring the roof down with that song. Such lungs!"
"I don't love that loud shouting, myself," said Mrs. Taine in her fat voice. "Give me something soft and low, like 'My Pretty Jane!'"
"Ah! you should have heard Sims Reeves sing it," said Harmer.
"I have heard him," said Leonard, to whom the remark was addressed.
Harmer was annoyed. "Perhaps you have heard Grisi and Mario also?"
"No, sir. But my grandfather did."
"Probably," said Harmer, glancing at his fresh face and bald head in a near mirror. "I was a mere43 child myself when I heard them. Do you know much about music, Mr. Train?"
"I have heard it a good deal talked about," replied Leonard, with the air of saying something clever.
"And great rubbish they talk," put in Mrs. Taine, smoothing one hand over the other. "In my young days we talked of Wagner and Weber. Now it is all Vagner and Veber--such affectation."
"Ah! manners are not what they used to be," sighed another old lady, who prided herself on her straight back and clear eyesight.
"Nor singers," said Mr. Granger. "There are no voices nowadays, none."
"What about Calve and Melba?" asked Leonard.
"Those are foreigners," said Mr. Granger, getting out of the difficulty. "I speak of our native talent, sir."
"Melba comes from Australia."
"She is not English--a foreigner, I tell you. Don't talk to me, sir."
Mr. Granger was becoming restive44 at being thus contradicted, and privately45 thought Leonard an impertinent young man. Madame, seeing that the old gentleman was ruffled46, hastily intervened. "If Mrs. Taine will play us the 'Canary Bird Quadrilles' how pleased we shall be."
Mrs. Taine obliged, and Harmer hung over the piano, quite enraptured47 at these airs which recalled his hot youth. Afterward48 he begged for the "Mabel Waltz." Meantime Margery was sitting in the corner with Miss Bull, and both were engrossed49 with "Patience." Madame, under cover of the music, talked with Train.
"You mustn't mind the guests," she said; "they are old and require to be humored."
"It's most amusing, Madame. I shall stop here three weeks to pick up types."
"Oh! you must stay longer than that," said Madame, smiling and patting his hand, still in a motherly way; "now, that you have found us out, we cannot lose you. By the way--" here Mrs. Jersey's eyes became very searching--"how did you find us out?"
"It was a friend of mine, Madame. He knew that I wanted to get into the Dickens world, and suggested this house. I am not disappointed--oh, not at all--" and Leonard glanced at Margery, who was fat, dull and stupid in her looks. She certainly resembled one of Dickens's characters, but he could not recollect50 which at the moment.
"Do I know the gentleman?" asked Madame, who seemed anxious.
"I don't think so. But he is coming to see me to-night."
"You must ask him in here and introduce him. I should like to thank him for having recommended my house."
"We were going to have a conversation in my room," said Train, dubiously51; "he's such a shy fellow that I don't think he'll come in."
"Oh! but, he must; I love young people." Madame looked round and shrugged. "It is rather dreary52 here at times, Mr. Train."
"I can quite believe that," replied Leonard, who already was beginning to find the Dickens types rather boring. "Who is that tall old man with the long hair?"
"Hush53! He may hear you. His name is Rasper. A great inventor, a most distinguished man."
"What has he invented?"
"Oh, all sorts of things," replied Mrs. Jersey, vaguely55. "His name is quite a household word in Clapham. See, he's inventing something now." Mr. Rasper, who had rather a haggard appearance, as though he used his brains too much, was glooming over the back of an envelope and the stump56 of a pencil. He frowned as he chewed this latter, and seemed bent57 upon working out an abstruse58 problem. "But it will really will not do, Mr. Train," said Madame, shaking her head till "the diamonds" twinkled; "this is our evening of relaxation59. But Miss Bull, against all precedent60, is playing 'Patience,' and here is Mr. Rasper inventing." She rose to interrupt Mr. Rasper, but remained to ask Leonard if his friend was stopping the night.
"He will if he comes at all," replied Leonard, looking at his watch; "but if the fog is very thick I don't know if he'll turn up. It is now nine o'clock."
"We usually disperse61 at eleven," said Madame, "but on this night I must break up at ten, as I have--" she hesitated--"I have business to do."
"I won't trouble you, Madame," said Train; "my friend and I can have supper in my room."
"That's just it," said Madame, and her voice became rather hard. "I beg, Mr. Train, that you and your friend will not sit up late."
"Why not? We both wish to smoke and talk."
"You can do that in the daytime, Mr. Train. But my house is most respectable, and I hope you will be in bed before eleven."
Leonard would have protested, as he objected to this sort of maternal62 government, but Mrs. Jersey rustled63 away, and he was left to make the best of it. Before he could collect his wits a message came that he was wanted. "By Jove! it's George," he said and hurried out of the room. Mrs. Jersey overheard the name.
"I suppose his friend is called George," she thought, and frowned. Her recollections of that name were not pleasant. However, she thought no more about the matter, but rebuked64 Mr. Rasper for his inattention to the 'Mabel Waltz.' "It is so sweet of Mrs. Taine to play it."
"I beg pardon--beg pardon," stuttered Rasper, putting away his envelope and looking up with a dreamy eye. "I was inventing a new bootjack. I hope to make my fortune out of it."
Madame smiled pityingly. She had heard that prophecy before, but poor Rasper's inventions had never succeeded in getting him the house in Park Lane he was always dreaming about. But she patted his shoulder and then sailed across to Miss Bull. "The music doesn't please you, Miss Bull," she said in rather an acid tone.
"It's very nice," replied the old maid, dealing65 the cards, "but I have heard the 'Mabel Waltz' before."
"You may not have the chance of hearing it again," said Madame.
Miss Bull shrugged her shoulders to signify that it did not matter.
"I suppose that means Mrs. Taine is about to leave us, she said.
"There may be changes in the establishment soon, Miss Bull."
"It's a world of change," replied Miss Bull, in her sharp voice. "Margery, was that a heart?"
Margery pointed14 a fat finger to the card in question, and Miss Bull muttered something about her eyesight getting worse. Madame knew that this was just done to annoy her, as Miss Bull's sight was excellent. To revenge herself she took Margery away. "Go and tell the servants to send up the negus and sandwiches," she said sharply.
Margery rose heavily. She was a huge girl of twenty years of age, and apparently66 very stupid. Why sharp little Miss Bull, who loved no one, had taken to her no one knew; but the two were inseparable. Seeing this, Madame usually kept Margery hard at work in other quarters so as to part her from the old maid. But with the cunning of an animal--and Margery was very much of that type--the girl managed to see a great deal of her one friend. Madame had an idea of the reason for this, but at the present moment did not think it was necessary to interfere67. She was quite capable of crushing Miss Bull when the need arose. Meantime she vented54 her temper by sending Margery away. The girl departed with a scowl68 and an angry look at her aunt. But Miss Bull never raised her eyes, though she was well aware of what was going on.
Madame was not to be beaten. "I tell you what, dear Miss Bull," she said, smiling graciously, "since you have broken through our rule, and have produced the cards, you shall tell all our fortunes."
"Yours?" asked Miss Bull, looking up for the first time.
Madame shook her head. "I know mine. Tell Mr. Rasper if his invention will succeed. Or, perhaps, Mr. Granger?"
"I am at Miss Bull's service," said the polite old gentleman bowing.
Miss Bull swept the cards into a heap. "I'm quite willing," she said in a voice almost pleasant for her. "Anything to oblige dear Madame."
Mrs. Jersey smiled still more graciously and sailed away to send Mr. Harmer to the cards. But she wondered inwardly why Miss Bull had given way so suddenly. There was some reason for it, as Miss Bull never did anything without a reason. But Mrs. Jersey kept her own counsel, and still continued to smile. She had quite made up her mind how to act.
"Ladies and gentlemen," she said, standing69 in the middle of the drawing-room, "we must disperse to-night at ten. I have some business to attend to, so I request you will all retire at that hour. In the mean time, Miss Bull has kindly70 consented to tell your fortunes."
It was extraordinary to see how those withered71 old people crowded round the table. Their several fates had long since been settled, so what they could expect the cards to tell them, save that they would one and all die soon, it is difficult to say. Yet so ineradicable is the wish to know the future in the human breast that they were as eager as youth to hear what would befall them. And Miss Bull, wholly unmoved by their senile excitement, dealt the cards with the air of a sphinx.
Madame meantime retired to her throne, and saw that the servants arranged the tray properly. She had a gigantic chair, which was jokingly called her throne, and here she received strangers in quite a majestic way. It was a sort of Lady Blessington reception on a small scale, as Mr. Harmer assured her, and, as he had been to Gore73 House in his youth, he knew what he was talking about. Knowing his courtly manners, and being greedy of compliments, Mrs. Jersey always tried to make him say that she resembled Lady Blessington. But this Mr. Harmer refused to do. Not that Mrs. Jersey was bad-looking. She had a fresh-colored face, bright black eyes, and plenty of white hair like spun74 silk. Her figure was stout, but she yet retained a certain comeliness75 which showed that she must have been a handsome woman in her youth. Her manners were motherly, but she showed a stern face toward Margery, and did not treat the girl so kindly as she might have done. As a rule, she had great self-command, but sometimes gave way to paroxysms of passion, which were really terrifying. But Margery alone had been witness of these, and Mrs. Jersey passed for a dear, gentle old lady.
"Mr. Harmer is to be married," announced Mrs. Taine, leaving the circle round the card-table; "how extraordinary!"
"So extraordinary that it can't possibly be true," said Mr. Harmer, dryly; "unless Madame will accept me," he added, bowing.
"I should recommend Miss Bull," replied Madame very sweetly, but with a venomous note in her voice. She might as well have thought to rouse the dead, for Miss Bull paid not the slightest attention. In many ways the self-composed old maid was a match for Madame.
At this moment Train entered, and after him came a tall young man, fair-haired and stalwart. He was handsome, but seemed to be ill at ease, and pulled his yellow mustache nervously76 as Train led him to the throne.
"This is my friend," said Leonard, presenting him. "He just managed to get here, for the fog is so thick----"
Here he was interrupted. "Madame!" cried Mrs. Taine, "what is the matter? Mr. Harmer, the water--wine--quick."
There was need of it. Mrs. Jersey had fallen back on the throne with a white face and twitching77 lips. She appeared as though about to faint, but restraining herself with a powerful effort she waved her hand to intimate that she needed nothing. At the same time her eyes were fastened, not so much on the face of the stranger as on a piece of yellow holly72 he wore in his coat. "I am perfectly78 well," said Mrs. Jersey. "This is only one of my turns. I am glad to see you, Mr.----"
"Brendon," said the stranger, who seemed astonished at this reception.
"George Brendan," interpolated Train, who was alive with curiosity; "have you seen him before, Madame?"
Mrs. Jersey laughed artificially. "Certainly not," she replied calmly, "and yours is not a face I should forget, Mr.----Brendon."
She uttered the name with a certain amount of hesitation79 as though she was not sure it was the right one. George nodded.
"My name is Brendan," he said rather unnecessarily, and Mrs. Jersey nodded in her most gracious manner.
"I bid you welcome sir; any friend of Mr. Train's is also my friend. If there is anything to amuse you here?" She waved her hand. "We are simple people. Fortune-telling--a little music and the company of my guests. Mrs. Taine, Mr. Harmer!" She introduced them, but every now and then her eyes were on the yellow holly. Brendan remarked it.
"You are noticing my flower, Mrs. Jersey," he said. "It is rather rare."
"Most extraordinary," replied Mrs. Jersey, coolly. "I have seen holly with red berries before, but this yellow----"
"There was a great bush of it in my father's garden," said Mr. Harmer, "but I have not seen any for years."
"Perhaps you would like it, Mrs. Jersey," said Brendan, taking it from his coat.
She hastily waved her hand. "No! no! I am too old for flowers. Keep it, Mr. Brendan. It suits better with your youth," she looked at his face keenly. "I have seen a face like yours before."
Brendan laughed. "I am of a commonplace type, I fear," he said.
"No; not so very common. Fair hair and dark eyes do not usually go together. Perhaps I have met your father?"
"Perhaps," replied George, phlegmatically80.
"Or your mother," persisted Mrs. Jersey.
"I dare say!" Then he turned the conversation. "What a delightful old house you have here!"
Mrs. Jersey bit her lip on finding her inquiries81 thus baffled, but taking her cue expanded on the subject of the house. "It was a fashionable mansion in the time of the Georges," she said. "Some of the ceilings are wonderfully painted, and there are all kinds of queer rooms and cupboards and corners in it. And so quiet. I dare say," she went on, "this room was filled with beaux and belles82 in powder and patches. What a sight, Mr. Brendon--what a sight! Will you have some negus? Port-wine negus, Mr. Brendan."
She was evidently talking at random83, and offered him a glass of negus with a trembling hand. Brendan; evidently more and more astonished at her manner, drank off the wine. He made few remarks, being a man who spoke little in general company. Train had long ago gone to hear Miss Bull tell fortunes and, from the laughter, it was evident that his future was being prophesied84.
"No! no!" cried Train, "I shall never marry. A literary man should keep himself away from the fascinations85 of female society."
"Do you agree with that, Mr. Brendan?" asked Mrs. Jersey, curiously.
He shook his head and laughed. "I am not a hermit86, Mrs. Jersey."
"Then Miss Bull must prophesy87 about your marriage. Come!"
At first Brendon was unwilling88 to go, but after some persuasion89 he submitted to be led to the table. Miss Bull was quite willing to do what was asked of her, and spread out the cards. Brendon waited beside Mrs. Jersey with a most indifferent air. She was far more anxious to hear the fortune than he was.
"You are in trouble," announced Miss Bull in a sepulchral90 tone, "and the trouble will grow worse. But in the end all will be well. She will aid you to get free and will bestow91 her hand on you."
"She?" asked Brendon, looking puzzled.
Miss Bull did not raise her eyes. "The lady you are thinking of."
Brendon was rather taken aback, but seeing Mrs. Jersey's curious look he crushed down his emotion. "At my age we are always thinking of ladies," he said, laughing.
Train touched his arm. "It is----" he began, but Brendon frowned, and Leonard was quick enough to take the hint. Miss Bull went on telling the fortune. There were the usual dark and fair people, the widow, the journey, the money, and all the rest of the general events and happenings which are usually foretold92. But there was always trouble, trouble, and again trouble. "But you will come out right in the end," said Miss Bull. "Keep a brave heart."
"I am sure Mr. Brendon will do that," said Madame, graciously.
While George bowed to the compliment, Miss Bull again shuffled93 the cards and fastened her keen black eyes on Madame. "Will you have your fortune told?" she asked coldly.
"Oh, certainly!" said Mrs. Jersey in a most gushing94 manner; "anything to amuse. But my fortune has been told so often, and has never come true--never," and she sighed in an effective manner.
Miss Bull continued her mystic counting. She told Madame a lot of things about the house which were known to most present. Mrs. Jersey laughed and sneered95. Suddenly Miss Bull turned up a black card, "You will meet with a violent death," she said, and every one shuddered96.
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1
jersey
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| n.运动衫 | |
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dignified
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| a.可敬的，高贵的 | |
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gatherings
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| 聚集( gathering的名词复数 )； 收集； 采集； 搜集 | |
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majestic
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| adj.雄伟的，壮丽的，庄严的，威严的，崇高的 | |
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dispensed
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| v.分配( dispense的过去式和过去分词 )；施与；配（药） | |
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antiquated
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| adj.陈旧的，过时的 | |
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festive
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| adj.欢宴的，节日的 | |
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adornment
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| n.装饰；装饰品 | |
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alluded
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| 提及，暗指( allude的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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varied
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| adj.多样的，多变化的 | |
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mansion
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| n.大厦，大楼；宅第 | |
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Oxford
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| n.牛津（英国城市） | |
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haven
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| n.安全的地方，避难所，庇护所 | |
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pointed
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| adj.尖的，直截了当的 | |
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superannuated
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| adj.老朽的，退休的；v.因落后于时代而废除，勒令退学 | |
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retired
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| adj.隐退的，退休的，退役的 | |
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humbug
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| n.花招，谎话，欺骗 | |
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asylum
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| n.避难所，庇护所，避难 | |
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jargon
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| n.术语，行话 | |
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curiously
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| adv.有求知欲地；好问地；奇特地 | |
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prim
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| adj.拘泥形式的，一本正经的；n.循规蹈矩，整洁；adv.循规蹈矩地，整洁地 | |
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distinguished
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| adj.卓越的，杰出的，著名的 | |
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analytical
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| adj.分析的；用分析法的 | |
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overdone
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| v.做得过分( overdo的过去分词 )；太夸张；把…煮得太久；（工作等）过度 | |
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revert
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glean
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| v.收集(消息、资料、情报等) | |
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sufficiently
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buck
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| n.雄鹿，雄兔；v.马离地跳跃 | |
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spoke
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| n.（车轮的）辐条；轮辐；破坏某人的计划；阻挠某人的行动 v.讲，谈（speak的过去式）；说；演说；从某种观点来说 | |
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sitting-room
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| n.（BrE）客厅，起居室 | |
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haggled
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| v.讨价还价( haggle的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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delightful
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| adj.令人高兴的，使人快乐的 | |
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malice
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| n.恶意，怨恨，蓄意；[律]预谋 | |
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utterance
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| n.用言语表达，话语，言语 | |
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pointedly
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| adv.尖地，明显地 | |
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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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shrugged
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| vt.耸肩（shrug的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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abstain
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| v.自制，戒绝，弃权，避免 | |
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indifference
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| n.不感兴趣，不关心，冷淡，不在乎 | |
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pallid
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| adj.苍白的，呆板的 | |
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treacherously
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| 背信弃义地； 背叛地； 靠不住地； 危险地 | |
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mere
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| adj.纯粹的；仅仅，只不过 | |
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restive
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| adj.不安宁的，不安静的 | |
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privately
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| adv.以私人的身份，悄悄地，私下地 | |
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ruffled
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| adj. 有褶饰边的, 起皱的 动词ruffle的过去式和过去分词 | |
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enraptured
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| v.使狂喜( enrapture的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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afterward
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| adv.后来；以后 | |
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engrossed
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| adj.全神贯注的 | |
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50
recollect
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| v.回忆，想起，记起，忆起，记得 | |
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dubiously
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| adv.可疑地，怀疑地 | |
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dreary
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| adj.令人沮丧的，沉闷的，单调乏味的 | |
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hush
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| int.嘘，别出声；n.沉默，静寂；v.使安静 | |
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54
vented
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| 表达，发泄（感情，尤指愤怒）( vent的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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vaguely
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| adv.含糊地，暖昧地 | |
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stump
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| n.残株，烟蒂，讲演台；v.砍断，蹒跚而走 | |
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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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abstruse
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| adj.深奥的，难解的 | |
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relaxation
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| n.松弛，放松；休息；消遣；娱乐 | |
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precedent
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| n.先例，前例；惯例；adj.在前的，在先的 | |
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disperse
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| vi.使分散；使消失；vt.分散；驱散 | |
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maternal
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| adj.母亲的，母亲般的，母系的，母方的 | |
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rustled
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| v.发出沙沙的声音( rustle的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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rebuked
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| 责难或指责( rebuke的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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dealing
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| n.经商方法，待人态度 | |
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apparently
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| adv.显然地；表面上，似乎 | |
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interfere
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| v.(in)干涉，干预；(with)妨碍，打扰 | |
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scowl
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| vi.(at)生气地皱眉，沉下脸，怒视；n.怒容 | |
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standing
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| n.持续，地位；adj.永久的，不动的，直立的，不流动的 | |
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kindly
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| adj.和蔼的，温和的，爽快的；adv.温和地，亲切地 | |
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withered
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| adj. 枯萎的，干瘪的，（人身体的部分器官）因病萎缩的或未发育良好的 动词wither的过去式和过去分词形式 | |
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holly
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| n.[植]冬青属灌木 | |
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gore
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| n.凝血，血污；v.（动物）用角撞伤，用牙刺破；缝以补裆；顶 | |
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spun
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| v.纺，杜撰，急转身 | |
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comeliness
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| n. 清秀, 美丽, 合宜 | |
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nervously
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| adv.神情激动地，不安地 | |
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twitching
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| n.颤搐 | |
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perfectly
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| adv.完美地，无可非议地，彻底地 | |
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hesitation
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| n.犹豫，踌躇 | |
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phlegmatically
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inquiries
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| n.调查( inquiry的名词复数 )；疑问；探究；打听 | |
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belles
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| n.美女( belle的名词复数 )；最美的美女 | |
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random
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| adj.随机的；任意的；n.偶然的(或随便的)行动 | |
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prophesied
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| v.预告，预言( prophesy的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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fascinations
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| n.魅力( fascination的名词复数 )；有魅力的东西；迷恋；陶醉 | |
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86
hermit
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| n.隐士，修道者；隐居 | |
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87
prophesy
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| v.预言；预示 | |
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88
unwilling
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| adj.不情愿的 | |
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89
persuasion
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| n.劝说；说服；持有某种信仰的宗派 | |
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90
sepulchral
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| adj.坟墓的，阴深的 | |
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91
bestow
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| v.把…赠与，把…授予；花费 | |
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92
foretold
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| v.预言，预示( foretell的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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93
shuffled
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| v.洗（纸牌）( shuffle的过去式和过去分词 )；拖着脚步走；粗心地做；摆脱尘世的烦恼 | |
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94
gushing
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| adj.迸出的；涌出的；喷出的；过分热情的v.喷，涌( gush的现在分词 )；滔滔不绝地说话 | |
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95
sneered
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| 讥笑，冷笑( sneer的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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96
shuddered
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| v.战栗( shudder的过去式和过去分词 )；发抖；（机器、车辆等）突然震动；颤动 | |
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