BRIEFLY1 ILLUSTRATIVE OF TWO POINTS;FIRST, THE POWER OF HYSTERICS, AND,SECONDLY, THE FORCE OF CIRCUMSTANCEsor two days after the breakfast at Mrs. Hunter’s, thePickwickians remained at Eatanswill, anxiously awaitingthe arrival of some intelligence from their revered2 leader.
Mr. Tupman and Mr. Snodgrass were once again left to their ownmeans of amusement; for Mr. Winkle, in compliance3 with a mostpressing invitation, continued to reside at Mr. Pott’s house, and todevote his time to the companionship of his amiable4 lady. Nor wasthe occasional society of Mr. Pott himself wanting to completetheir felicity. Deeply immersed in the intensity5 of his speculationsfor the public weal and the destruction of the Independent, it wasnot the habit of that great man to descend6 from his mentalpinnacle to the humble7 level of ordinary minds. On this occasion,however, and as if expressly in compliment to any follower8 of Mr.
Pickwick’s, he unbent, relaxed, stepped down from his pedestal,and walked upon the ground, benignly10 adapting his remarks to thecomprehension of the herd11, and seeming in outward form, if not inspirit, to be one of them.
Such having been the demeanour of this celebrated12 publiccharacter towards Mr. Winkle, it will be readily imagined thatconsiderable surprise was depicted13 on the countenance14 of thelatter gentleman, when, as he was sitting alone in the breakfast-room, the door was hastily thrown open, and as hastily closed, onthe entrance of Mr. Pott, who, stalking majestically15 towards him,and thrusting aside his proffered16 hand, ground his teeth, as if toput a sharper edge on what he was about to utter, and exclaimed,in a saw-like voice―‘Serpent!’
‘Sir!’ exclaimed Mr. Winkle, starting from his chair.
‘Serpent, sir,’ repeated Mr. Pott, raising his voice, and thensuddenly depressing it: ‘I said, serpent, sir―make the most of it.’
When you have parted with a man at two o’clock in themorning, on terms of the utmost good-fellowship, and he meetsyou again, at half-past nine, and greets you as a serpent, it is notunreasonable to conclude that something of an unpleasant naturehas occurred meanwhile. So Mr. Winkle thought. He returned Mr.
Pott’s gaze of stone, and in compliance with that gentleman’srequest, proceeded to make the most he could of the ‘serpent.’ Themost, however, was nothing at all; so, after a profound silence ofsome minutes’ duration, he said,―‘Serpent, sir! Serpent, Mr. Pott! What can you mean, sir?―thisis pleasantry.’
‘Pleasantry, sir!’ exclaimed Pott, with a motion of the hand,indicative of a strong desire to hurl17 the Britannia metal teapot atthe head of the visitor. ‘Pleasantry, sir!―But―no, I will be calm; Iwill be calm, sir;’ in proof of his calmness, Mr. Pott flung himselfinto a chair, and foamed18 at the mouth.
‘My dear sir,’ interposed Mr. Winkle.
‘Dear sir!’ replied Pott. ‘How dare you address me, as dear sir,sir? How dare you look me in the face and do it, sir?’
‘Well, sir, if you come to that,’ responded Mr. Winkle, ‘how dareyou look me in the face, and call me a serpent, sir?’
‘Because you are one,’ replied Mr. Pott.
‘Prove it, sir,’ said Mr. Winkle warmly. ‘Prove it.’
A malignant19 scowl20 passed over the profound face of the editor,as he drew from his pocket the Independent of that morning; andlaying his finger on a particular paragraph, threw the journalacross the table to Mr. Winkle.
That gentleman took it up, and read as follows:―‘Our obscure and filthy21 contemporary, in some disgustingobservations on the recent election for this borough22, haspresumed to violate the hallowed sanctity of private life, and torefer, in a manner not to be misunderstood, to the personal affairsof our late candidate―aye, and notwithstanding his base defeat,we will add, our future member, Mr. Fizkin. What does ourdastardly contemporary mean? What would the ruffian say, if we,setting at naught24, like him, the decencies of social intercourse,were to raise the curtain which happily conceals25 His private lifefrom general ridicule26, not to say from general execration27? What, ifwe were even to point out, and comment on, facts andcircumstances, which are publicly notorious, and beheld28 by everyone but our mole-eyed contemporary―what if we were to printthe following effusion, which we received while we were writingthe commencement of this article, from a talented fellow-townsman and correspondent?
‘“LINES TO A BRASS30 POT‘“Oh Pott! if you’d knownHow false she’d have grown,When you heard the marriage bells tinkle31;You have done then, I vow,What you cannot help now,And handed her over to W*****”’
‘What,’ said Mr. Pott solemnly―‘what rhymes to “tinkle,”
villain?’
‘What rhymes to tinkle?’ said Mrs. Pott, whose entrance at themoment forestalled32 the reply. ‘What rhymes to tinkle? Why,Winkle, I should conceive.’ Saying this, Mrs. Pott smiled sweetlyon the disturbed Pickwickian, and extended her hand towardshim. The agitated33 young man would have accepted it, in hisconfusion, had not Pott indignantly interposed.
‘Back, ma’am―back!’ said the editor. ‘Take his hand before myvery face!’
‘Mr. P.!’ said his astonished lady.
‘Wretched woman, look here,’ exclaimed the husband. ‘Lookhere, ma’am―“Lines to a Brass Pot.” “Brass Pot”; that’s me,ma’am. “False she’d have grown”; that’s you, ma’am―you.’ Withthis ebullition of rage, which was not unaccompanied withsomething like a tremble, at the expression of his wife’s face, Mr.
Pott dashed the current number of the Eatanswill Independent ather feet.
‘Upon my word, sir,’ said the astonished Mrs. Pott, stooping topick up the paper. ‘Upon my word, sir!’
Mr. Pott winced34 beneath the contemptuous gaze of his wife. Hehad made a desperate struggle to screw up his courage, but it wasfast coming unscrewed again.
There appears nothing very tremendous in this little sentence,‘Upon my word, sir,’ when it comes to be read; but the tone ofvoice in which it was delivered, and the look that accompanied it,both seeming to bear reference to some revenge to be thereaftervisited upon the head of Pott, produced their effect upon him. Themost unskilful observer could have detected in his troubledcountenance, a readiness to resign his Wellington boots to anyefficient substitute who would have consented to stand in them atthat moment.
Mrs. Pott read the paragraph, uttered a loud shriek35, and threwherself at full length on the hearth-rug, screaming, and tapping itwith the heels of her shoes, in a manner which could leave nodoubt of the propriety36 of her feelings on the occasion.
‘My dear,’ said the terrified Pott, ‘I didn’t say I believed it;―I―’
but the unfortunate man’s voice was drowned in the screaming ofhis partner.
‘Mrs. Pott, let me entreat37 you, my dear ma’am, to composeyourself,’ said Mr. Winkle; but the shrieks38 and tappings werelouder, and more frequent than ever.
‘My dear,’ said Mr. Pott, ‘I’m very sorry. If you won’t consideryour own health, consider me, my dear. We shall have a crowdround the house.’ But the more strenuously39 Mr. Pott entreated,the more vehemently40 the screams poured forth41.
Very fortunately, however, attached to Mrs. Pott’s person was abodyguard of one, a young lady whose ostensible43 employment wasto preside over her toilet, but who rendered herself useful in avariety of ways, and in none more so than in the particulardepartment of constantly aiding and abetting44 her mistress in everywish and inclination45 opposed to the desires of the unhappy Pott.
The screams reached this young lady’s ears in due course, andbrought her into the room with a speed which threatened toderange, materially, the very exquisite46 arrangement of her capand ringlets.
‘Oh, my dear, dear mistress!’ exclaimed the bodyguard42,kneeling frantically47 by the side of the prostrate48 Mrs. Pott. ‘Oh, mydear mistress, what is the matter?’
‘Your master―your brutal49 master,’ murmured the patient.
Pott was evidently giving way.
‘It’s a shame,’ said the bodyguard reproachfully. ‘I know he’ll bethe death on you, ma’am. Poor dear thing!’
He gave way more. The opposite party followed up the attack.
‘Oh, don’t leave me―don’t leave me, Goodwin,’ murmured Mrs.
Pott, clutching at the wrist of the said Goodwin with an hystericjerk. ‘You’re the only person that’s kind to me, Goodwin.’
At this affecting appeal, Goodwin got up a little domestictragedy of her own, and shed tears copiously50.
‘Never, ma’am―never,’ said Goodwin.’Oh, sir, you should becareful―you should indeed; you don’t know what harm you maydo missis; you’ll be sorry for it one day, I know―I’ve always saidso.’
The unlucky Pott looked timidly on, but said nothing.
‘Goodwin,’ said Mrs. Pott, in a soft voice.
‘Ma’am,’ said Goodwin.
‘If you only knew how I have loved that man―’
‘Don’t distress51 yourself by recollecting52 it, ma’am,’ said thebodyguard.
Pott looked very frightened. It was time to finish him.
‘And now,’ sobbed53 Mrs. Pott, ‘now, after all, to be treated in thisway; to be reproached and insulted in the presence of a thirdparty, and that party almost a stranger. But I will not submit to it!
Goodwin,’ continued Mrs. Pott, raising herself in the arms of herattendant, ‘my brother, the lieutenant54, shall interfere55. I’ll beseparated, Goodwin!’
‘It would certainly serve him right, ma’am,’ said Goodwin.
Whatever thoughts the threat of a separation might haveawakened in Mr. Pott’s mind, he forbore to give utterance56 to them,and contented57 himself by saying, with great humility:―‘My dear, will you hear me?’
A fresh train of sobs58 was the only reply, as Mrs. Pott grew morehysterical, requested to be informed why she was ever born, andrequired sundry59 other pieces of information of a similardescription.
‘My dear,’ remonstrated60 Mr. Pott, ‘do not give way to thesesensitive feelings. I never believed that the paragraph had anyfoundation, my dear―impossible. I was only angry, my dear―Imay say outrageous―with the Independent people for daring toinsert it; that’s all.’ Mr. Pott cast an imploring61 look at the innocentcause of the mischief62, as if to entreat him to say nothing about theserpent.
‘And what steps, sir, do you mean to take to obtain redress63?’
inquired Mr. Winkle, gaining courage as he saw Pott losing it.
‘Oh, Goodwin,’ observed Mrs. Pott, ‘does he mean to horsewhipthe editor of the Independent―does he, Goodwin?’
‘Hush64, hush, ma’am; pray keep yourself quiet,’ replied thebodyguard. ‘I dare say he will, if you wish it, ma’am.’
‘Certainly,’ said Pott, as his wife evinced decided65 symptoms ofgoing off again. ‘Of course I shall.’
‘When, Goodwin―when?’ said Mrs. Pott, still undecided aboutthe going off.
‘Immediately, of course,’ said Mr. Pott; ‘before the day is out.’
‘Oh, Goodwin,’ resumed Mrs. Pott, ‘it’s the only way of meetingthe slander66, and setting me right with the world.’
‘Certainly, ma’am,’ replied Goodwin. ‘No man as is a man,ma’am, could refuse to do it.’
So, as the hysterics were still hovering67 about, Mr. Pott said oncemore that he would do it; but Mrs. Pott was so overcome at thebare idea of having ever been suspected, that she was half a dozentimes on the very verge68 of a relapse, and most unquestionablywould have gone off, had it not been for the indefatigable69 efforts ofthe assiduous Goodwin, and repeated entreaties70 for pardon fromthe conquered Pott; and finally, when that unhappy individual hadbeen frightened and snubbed down to his proper level, Mrs. Pottrecovered, and they went to breakfast.
‘You will not allow this base newspaper slander to shorten yourstay here, Mr. Winkle?’ said Mrs. Pott, smiling through the tracesof her tears.
‘I hope not,’ said Mr. Pott, actuated, as he spoke71, by a wish thathis visitor would choke himself with the morsel72 of dry toast whichhe was raising to his lips at the moment, and so terminate his stayeffectually.
‘I hope not.’
‘You are very good,’ said Mr. Winkle; ‘but a letter has beenreceived from Mr. Pickwick―so I learn by a note from Mr.
Tupman, which was brought up to my bedroom door, thismorning―in which he requests us to join him at Bury to-day; andwe are to leave by the coach at noon.’
‘But you will come back?’ said Mrs. Pott.
‘Oh, certainly,’ replied Mr. Winkle.
‘You are quite sure?’ said Mrs. Pott, stealing a tender look ather visitor.
‘Quite,’ responded Mr. Winkle.
The breakfast passed off in silence, for each of the party wasbrooding over his, or her, own personal grievances73. Mrs. Pott wasregretting the loss of a beau; Mr. Pott his rash pledge to horsewhipthe Independent; Mr. Winkle his having innocently placed himselfin so awkward a situation. Noon approached, and after manyadieux and promises to return, he tore himself away.
‘If he ever comes back, I’ll poison him,’ thought Mr. Pott, as heturned into the little back office where he prepared histhunderbolts.
‘If I ever do come back, and mix myself up with these peopleagain,’ thought Mr. Winkle, as he wended his way to the Peacock,‘I shall deserve to be horsewhipped myself―that’s all.’
His friends were ready, the coach was nearly so, and in half anhour they were proceeding74 on their journey, along the road overwhich Mr. Pickwick and Sam had so recently travelled, and ofwhich, as we have already said something, we do not feel calledupon to extract Mr. Snodgrass’s poetical75 and beautiful description.
Mr. Weller was standing23 at the door of the Angel, ready toreceive them, and by that gentleman they were ushered76 to theapartment of Mr. Pickwick, where, to the no small surprise of Mr.
Winkle and Mr. Snodgrass, and the no small embarrassment77 ofMr. Tupman, they found old Wardle and Trundle.
‘How are you?’ said the old man, grasping Mr. Tupman’s hand.
‘Don’t hang back, or look sentimental78 about it; it can’t be helped,old fellow. For her sake, I wish you’d had her; for your own, I’mvery glad you have not. A young fellow like you will do better oneof these days, eh?’ With this conclusion, Wardle slapped Mr.
Tupman on the back, and laughed heartily79.
‘Well, and how are you, my fine fellows?’ said the oldgentleman, shaking hands with Mr. Winkle and Mr. Snodgrass atthe same time. ‘I have just been telling Pickwick that we musthave you all down at Christmas. We’re going to have a wedding―areal wedding this time.’
‘A wedding!’ exclaimed Mr. Snodgrass, turning very pale.
‘Yes, a wedding. But don’t be frightened,’ said the good-humoured old man; ‘it’s only Trundle there, and Bella.’
‘Oh, is that all?’ said Mr. Snodgrass, relieved from a painfuldoubt which had fallen heavily on his breast. ‘Give you joy, sir.
How is Joe?’
‘Very well,’ replied the old gentleman. ‘Sleepy as ever.’
‘And your mother, and the clergyman, and all of ‘em?’
‘Quite well.’
‘Where,’ said Mr. Tupman, with an effort―‘where is―she, sir?’
and he turned away his head, and covered his eyes with his hand.
‘She!’ said the old gentleman, with a knowing shake of the head.
‘Do you mean my single relative―eh?’
Mr. Tupman, by a nod, intimated that his question applied80 tothe disappointed Rachael.
‘Oh, she’s gone away,’ said the old gentleman. ‘She’s living at arelation’s, far enough off. She couldn’t bear to see the girls, so I lether go. But come! Here’s the dinner. You must be hungry afteryour ride. I am, without any ride at all; so let us fall to.’
Ample justice was done to the meal; and when they were seatedround the table, after it had been disposed of, Mr. Pickwick, to theintense horror and indignation of his followers81, related theadventure he had undergone, and the success which had attendedthe base artifices82 of the diabolical83 Jingle84. ‘And the attack ofrheumatism which I caught in that garden,’ said Mr. Pickwick, inconclusion, ‘renders me lame85 at this moment.’
‘I, too, have had something of an adventure,’ said Mr. Winkle,with a smile; and, at the request of Mr. Pickwick, he detailed86 themalicious libel of the Eatanswill Independent, and the consequentexcitement of their friend, the editor.
Mr. Pickwick’s brow darkened during the recital87. His friendsobserved it, and, when Mr. Winkle had concluded, maintained aprofound silence. Mr. Pickwick struck the table emphatically withhis clenched88 fist, and spoke as follows:―‘Is it not a wonderful circumstance,’ said Mr. Pickwick, ‘that weseem destined89 to enter no man’s house without involving him insome degree of trouble? Does it not, I ask, bespeak90 theindiscretion, or, worse than that, the blackness of heart―that Ishould say so!―of my followers, that, beneath whatever roof theylocate, they disturb the peace of mind and happiness of someconfiding female? Is it not, I say―’
Mr. Pickwick would in all probability have gone on for sometime, had not the entrance of Sam, with a letter, caused him tobreak off in his eloquent92 discourse93. He passed his handkerchiefacross his forehead, took off his spectacles, wiped them, and putthem on again; and his voice had recovered its wonted softness oftone when he said―‘What have you there, Sam?’
‘Called at the post-office just now, and found this here letter, ashas laid there for two days,’ replied Mr. Weller. ‘It’s sealed vith avafer, and directed in round hand.’
‘I don’t know this hand,’ said Mr. Pickwick, opening the letter.
‘Mercy on us! what’s this? It must be a jest; it―it―can’t be true.’
‘What’s the matter?’ was the general inquiry94.
‘Nobody dead, is there?’ said Wardle, alarmed at the horror inMr. Pickwick’s countenance.
Mr. Pickwick made no reply, but, pushing the letter across thetable, and desiring Mr. Tupman to read it aloud, fell back in hischair with a look of vacant astonishment95 quite alarming to behold96.
Mr. Tupman, with a trembling voice, read the letter, of whichthe following is a copy:―Freeman’s Court, Cornhill, August 28th, 1827.
Bardell against Pickwick.
Sir,Having been instructed by Mrs. Martha Bardell to commence anaction against you for a breach97 of promise of marriage, for which theplaintiff lays her damages at fifteen hundred pounds, we beg toinform you that a writ29 has been issued against you in this suit in theCourt of Common Pleas; and request to know, by return of post, thename of your attorney in London, who will accept service thereof.
We are, sir,Your obedient servants,Dodson & Fogg.
Mr. Samuel Pickwick.
There was something so impressive in the mute astonishmentwith which each man regarded his neighbour, and every manregarded Mr. Pickwick, that all seemed afraid to speak. Thesilence was at length broken by Mr. Tupman.
‘Dodson and Fogg,’ he repeated mechanically.
‘Bardell and Pickwick,’ said Mr. Snodgrass, musing98.
‘Peace of mind and happiness of confiding91 females,’ murmuredMr. Winkle, with an air of abstraction.
‘It’s a conspiracy99,’ said Mr. Pickwick, at length recovering thepower of speech; ‘a base conspiracy between these two graspingattorneys, Dodson and Fogg. Mrs. Bardell would never do it;―shehasn’t the heart to do it;―she hasn’t the case to do it. Ridiculous―ridiculous.’
‘Of her heart,’ said Wardle, with a smile, ‘you should certainlybe the best judge. I don’t wish to discourage you, but I shouldcertainly say that, of her case, Dodson and Fogg are far betterjudges than any of us can be.’
‘It’s a vile100 attempt to extort101 money,’ said Mr. Pickwick.
‘I hope it is,’ said Wardle, with a short, dry cough.
‘Who ever heard me address her in any way but that in which alodger would address his landlady102?’ continued Mr. Pickwick, withgreat vehemence103. ‘Who ever saw me with her? Not even myfriends here―’
‘Except on one occasion,’ said Mr. Tupman.
Mr. Pickwick changed colour. ‘Ah,’ said Mr. Wardle. ‘Well,that’s important. There was nothing suspicious then, I suppose?’
Mr. Tupman glanced timidly at his leader. ‘Why,’ said he, ‘therewas nothing suspicious; but―I don’t know how it happened,mind―she certainly was reclining in his arms.’
‘Gracious powers!’ ejaculated Mr. Pickwick, as the recollectionof the scene in question struck forcibly upon him; ‘what a dreadfulinstance of the force of circumstances! So she was―so she was.’
‘And our friend was soothing104 her anguish,’ said Mr. Winkle,rather maliciously105.
‘So I was,’ said Mr. Pickwick. ‘I don’t deny it. So I was.’
‘Hollo!’ said Wardle; ‘for a case in which there’s nothingsuspicious, this looks rather queer―eh, Pickwick? Ah, sly dog―slydog!’ and he laughed till the glasses on the sideboard rang again.
‘What a dreadful conjunction of appearances!’ exclaimed Mr.
Pickwick, resting his chin upon his hands. ‘Winkle―Tupman―Ibeg your pardon for the observations I made just now. We are allthe victims of circumstances, and I the greatest.’ With this apologyMr. Pickwick buried his head in his hands, and ruminated106; whileWardle measured out a regular circle of nods and winks,addressed to the other members of the company.
‘I’ll have it explained, though,’ said Mr. Pickwick, raising hishead and hammering the table. ‘I’ll see this Dodson and Fogg! I’llgo to London to-morrow.’
‘Not to-morrow,’ said Wardle; ‘you’re too lame.’
‘Well, then, next day.’
‘Next day is the first of September, and you’re pledged to rideout with us, as far as Sir Geoffrey Manning’s grounds at all events,and to meet us at lunch, if you don’t take the field.’
‘Well, then, the day after,’ said Mr. Pickwick; ‘Thursday.―Sam!’
‘Sir,’ replied Mr. Weller.
‘Take two places outside to London, on Thursday morning, foryourself and me.’
‘Wery well, sir.’
Mr. Weller left the room, and departed slowly on his errand,with his hands in his pocket and his eyes fixed107 on the ground.
‘Rum feller, the hemperor,’ said Mr. Weller, as he walked slowlyup the street. ‘Think o’ his makin’ up to that ’ere Mrs. Bardell―vith a little boy, too! Always the vay vith these here old ’un showsoever, as is such steady goers to look at. I didn’t think he’dha’ done it, though―I didn’t think he’d ha’ done it!’ Moralising inthis strain, Mr. Samuel Weller bent9 his steps towards the booking-office.
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briefly
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revered
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compliance
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amiable
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intensity
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descend
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humble
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follower
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bent
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benignly
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herd
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celebrated
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depicted
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| 描绘，描画( depict的过去式和过去分词 )； 描述 | |
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countenance
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majestically
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proffered
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hurl
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foamed
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malignant
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scowl
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filthy
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borough
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standing
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naught
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conceals
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ridicule
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execration
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beheld
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writ
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brass
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tinkle
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forestalled
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agitated
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winced
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| 赶紧避开，畏缩( wince的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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35
shriek
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| v./n.尖叫，叫喊 | |
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36
propriety
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| n.正当行为；正当；适当 | |
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37
entreat
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| v.恳求，恳请 | |
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38
shrieks
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| n.尖叫声( shriek的名词复数 )v.尖叫( shriek的第三人称单数 ) | |
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39
strenuously
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| adv.奋发地，费力地 | |
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vehemently
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| adv. 热烈地 | |
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41
forth
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| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
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42
bodyguard
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| n.护卫，保镖 | |
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43
ostensible
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| adj.(指理由)表面的，假装的 | |
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44
abetting
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| v.教唆（犯罪）( abet的现在分词 )；煽动；怂恿；支持 | |
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45
inclination
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| n.倾斜；点头；弯腰；斜坡；倾度；倾向；爱好 | |
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46
exquisite
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| adj.精美的；敏锐的；剧烈的，感觉强烈的 | |
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47
frantically
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| ad.发狂地, 发疯地 | |
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48
prostrate
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| v.拜倒，平卧，衰竭；adj.拜倒的，平卧的，衰竭的 | |
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49
brutal
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| adj.残忍的，野蛮的，不讲理的 | |
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copiously
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| adv.丰富地，充裕地 | |
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51
distress
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| n.苦恼，痛苦，不舒适；不幸；vt.使悲痛 | |
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52
recollecting
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| v.记起，想起( recollect的现在分词 ) | |
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53
sobbed
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| 哭泣，啜泣( sob的过去式和过去分词 )； 哭诉，呜咽地说 | |
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54
lieutenant
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| n.陆军中尉，海军上尉；代理官员，副职官员 | |
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interfere
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| v.(in)干涉，干预；(with)妨碍，打扰 | |
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utterance
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| n.用言语表达，话语，言语 | |
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contented
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| adj.满意的，安心的，知足的 | |
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58
sobs
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| 啜泣（声），呜咽（声）( sob的名词复数 ) | |
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sundry
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| adj.各式各样的，种种的 | |
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remonstrated
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| v.抗议( remonstrate的过去式和过去分词 )；告诫 | |
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imploring
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| 恳求的，哀求的 | |
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mischief
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| n.损害，伤害，危害；恶作剧，捣蛋，胡闹 | |
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redress
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| n.赔偿，救济，矫正；v.纠正，匡正，革除 | |
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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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decided
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| adj.决定了的，坚决的；明显的，明确的 | |
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slander
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| n./v.诽谤，污蔑 | |
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hovering
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| 鸟( hover的现在分词 )； 靠近（某事物）； （人）徘徊； 犹豫 | |
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verge
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| n.边，边缘；v.接近，濒临 | |
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indefatigable
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| adj.不知疲倦的，不屈不挠的 | |
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entreaties
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| n.恳求，乞求( entreaty的名词复数 ) | |
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71
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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morsel
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| n.一口，一点点 | |
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grievances
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| n.委屈( grievance的名词复数 )；苦衷；不满；牢骚 | |
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proceeding
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| n.行动，进行，(pl.)会议录，学报 | |
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poetical
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| adj.似诗人的；诗一般的；韵文的；富有诗意的 | |
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ushered
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| v.引，领，陪同( usher的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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embarrassment
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| n.尴尬；使人为难的人(事物)；障碍；窘迫 | |
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sentimental
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| adj.多愁善感的，感伤的 | |
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heartily
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| adv.衷心地，诚恳地，十分，很 | |
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80
applied
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| adj.应用的；v.应用，适用 | |
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81
followers
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| 追随者( follower的名词复数 )； 用户； 契据的附面； 从动件 | |
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artifices
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| n.灵巧( artifice的名词复数 )；诡计；巧妙办法；虚伪行为 | |
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83
diabolical
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| adj.恶魔似的，凶暴的 | |
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84
jingle
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| n.叮当声，韵律简单的诗句；v.使叮当作响，叮当响，押韵 | |
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85
lame
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| adj.跛的，(辩解、论据等)无说服力的 | |
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86
detailed
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| adj.详细的，详尽的，极注意细节的，完全的 | |
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recital
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| n.朗诵，独奏会，独唱会 | |
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88
clenched
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| v.紧握，抓紧，咬紧( clench的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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89
destined
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| adj.命中注定的；(for)以…为目的地的 | |
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90
bespeak
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| v.预定；预先请求 | |
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91
confiding
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| adj.相信人的，易于相信的v.吐露（秘密，心事等）( confide的现在分词 )；（向某人）吐露（隐私、秘密等） | |
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92
eloquent
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| adj.雄辩的，口才流利的；明白显示出的 | |
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93
discourse
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| n.论文，演说；谈话；话语；vi.讲述，著述 | |
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inquiry
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| n.打听，询问，调查，查问 | |
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95
astonishment
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| n.惊奇，惊异 | |
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96
behold
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| v.看，注视，看到 | |
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97
breach
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| n.违反，不履行；破裂；vt.冲破，攻破 | |
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98
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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99
conspiracy
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| n.阴谋，密谋，共谋 | |
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100
vile
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| adj.卑鄙的，可耻的，邪恶的；坏透的 | |
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101
extort
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| v.勒索，敲诈，强要 | |
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102
landlady
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| n.女房东，女地主 | |
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103
vehemence
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| n.热切；激烈；愤怒 | |
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104
soothing
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| adj.慰藉的；使人宽心的；镇静的 | |
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105
maliciously
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| adv.有敌意地 | |
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106
ruminated
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| v.沉思( ruminate的过去式和过去分词 )；反复考虑；反刍；倒嚼 | |
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107
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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