It was no easy task to restore the derelict to the hard levels of the high-road. But Cannington collected a gang of agriculturals from unknown quarters and we set to work. With spades and crowbars, broad weather-boards from an adjacent incomplete building as temporary tram-lines, and a tow-rope from Trent's machine to mine, we managed the job fairly expeditiously9, considering the environment. With water from the nearest pond for the outside of the car, and oil and petrol for the interior, I managed to get the Rippler into working order, although she was more or less shaken, and did not run very smoothly10. Fortunately the lady had abandoned her loot within half a mile of Murchester, so with careful driving I contrived11 to get over that distance in safety. After storing the Rippler in a convenient garage, to be repaired and overhauled12, I went on to the Barracks with Cannington in Trent's motor. Here I proposed to put up until the inquest was at an end and I was free to leave the neighbourhood. It was rather a nuisance to be thus publicly housed, as one might put it, for everyone, from the Colonel to the latest-joined subaltern, asked questions and aired impossible theories. My intimate connection with the affair made me an object of interest to one and all. And small wonder that it should be so, for the mystery of the affair was most enthralling13.
On the way to his quarters, Cannington--perhaps to distract my thoughts from more immediate troubles--mentioned casually14 that Wentworth Marr had left a card for him at Mess, just before we had arrived on the day of the murder. I did not take any interest in Marr, as I had never seen him, so it was a matter of indifference15 to me whether he had called or not. But the boy fidgeted over the matter, as he made sure he was about to be asked a knotty16 question officially, as the head of the Wotton family.
"I am certain that Marr wishes to know if I will agree to his marrying my sister," said Cannington irritably17. "And I don't know what to say."
"Refer him to the lady," I suggested absently.
"I sha'nt. He's too old for Mabel, and I don't want her to marry him in any case. I wish Weston would come up to the scratch, for he told me that he loved Mabel, and I was quite pleased. Weston's no end of a good sort, and we--that is Mabel and I--have known him almost as long as we have you, Vance. Marr's all right, and deuced rich from all one hears. But I don't want such an old chap as a brother-in-law, for all his thousands of pounds."
"Oh, very well then," said I ungraciously. "Tell him to keep off the grass, or you'll punch his head. Is he stopping at Murchester?"
"I suppose so. His card has the Lion's Head--that's the best hotel here--pencilled on it. He called somewhere about three yesterday, before we arrived, and he said he'd turn up again. I expect to find him waiting for me now, and I'm hanged," lamented18 Cannington, "if I know what to say."
But, as after events proved, the boy was worrying himself needlessly, for Wentworth Marr did not reappear at the Barracks. On inquiry19, we learned that he stayed only the one night in Murchester, and then went back to London in his motor--for he also travelled in the latest vehicle of transit20. I only mention these apparently21 trivial facts, because they form certain links in the chain of evidence which led up to the discovery of the amazing truth. Meanwhile, not foreseeing the importance of trifles, I was rather annoyed with Cannington for babbling22. My mind was far too much taken up with the mystery of Mrs. Caldershaw's murder, and with--I must confess it--the face of Gertrude Monk23, to permit me to think of Lady Mabel Wotton and her wooers, elderly or otherwise.
Lady Mabel herself appeared a day or so later, and at an inopportune moment, for her brother and I were greatly fatigued24 with what had occurred during the interval25. However, we returned from Mootley in my renovated26 Rippler on the third day, and found her waiting impatiently for afternoon tea in Cannington's quarters. She was a tall, fresh-coloured, dashing girl, amazingly like her brother, and if he had worn her tailor-made dress instead of his khaki, I do not think anyone, unless a very close observer, would have been the wiser. I had known the family for more years that I cared to remember, and liked Lady Mabel immensely, as she was outspoken27 and companionable, and did not want a man to be always telling her that she was a goddess. All the same, she could flirt29 when inclined, although she never did so with me. It could not have been my age, for I was younger than this confounded Marr she came to talk about; so I presume she looked upon me as Cannington's elder brother. At all events, our friendship was always prosaic30 and matter of fact.
We had tea, while Lady Mabel presided and told us that she had just come down for an hour, and that she was very miserable31, and that Cannington ought to have written her, and that she did not know what to do, though Cyrus--that was me--might give some advice and----
"I never give advice," I interrupted hastily. "I'm not clever enough."
"I never said you were," she retorted. "But you are slow and sure."
"Thanks, Lady Mabel."
"I think you're just horrid32, and why you should be so stiff with me I don't know, seeing that you knew Cannington and myself since we could toddle33."
"Oh, come now, I'm not so old as all that."
"You are, and ever so much older, you--you bachelor."
"I can't help that, since you refuse to marry me," I said smiling.
"You've never asked me to--not that I would accept you," she replied promptly34. "All the same, you needn't call me Lady Mabel, as if you were keeping me off with a pitchfork."
"Well, then--Mabel."
"That's better." She gave me a friendly pat on the shoulder. "You know that I look on you as a good sort, Cyrus, and the oldest friend we have."
I wriggled35. "Why do you emphasise36 age so much?"
Cannington laughed, and I knew that he was thinking of my admiration37 of Miss Monk's photograph. "Vance doesn't like to be reminded of his age--now."
"Why now?" questioned Lady Mabel suspiciously.
"Oh, never mind," I said crossly. "What do you want my advice about?"
Our fair companion put down her cup in despair. "Haven't I been telling you for the last half hour. Mr. Marr wants to marry me. He asked me four days ago, and then came down to enlist38 Cannington on his side."
"Huh," said the boy, sagaciously, "that sounds as though you had refused him."
"No, I didn't."
"Then you accepted him."
"No, I didn't," she said again. "I left it an open question, until I consulted you and Cyrus. After all he is rich, and not bad-looking."
"Oh, Mabel," cried Cannington, rising to perambulate the narrow room, "you know very well that you love Dickey Weston."
"What's the use of loving a man who won't speak his mind? Dickey always lives in the moon, and I only love him from habit.
"You never loved me from habit," I remarked lazily.
Mabel put her head on one side, and surveyed me critically. "No, I never did," she said candidly39, "and yet you're better-looking than Dickey. But he's got a way with him--I don't know what it is."
"Absent-mindedness," suggested Cannington. "May we smoke, Mab?"
"Oh, yes, and you can give me a cigarette also, if they're Egyptian. Thanks awfully40." She accepted one, and I struck a match for the lighting41. "Of course, Dickey Weston is absent-minded and selfish," she continued frankly42. "All the same, I love him and I don't mind anyone knowing it."
"Every one does, except Dickey," said I with a shrug43.
"I suppose you think that's clever."
"It's the truth. After all, I don't see why you need be shy with a man you have known for centuries. Why not go to Dickey and tell him that you want to marry him and go trips in his airship?"
"Dickey would agree, and never know what had happened until he found me breakfasting opposite to him without a chaperon. Well, what's to be done?" She leaned back, and placed her hands behind her head. "Dickey won't ask me to be his wife, and Mr. Marr--who is rich--wants me to marry him right away."
"Do you love Marr, Mabel?" asked Cannington seriously.
"No," she said promptly.
"Then refuse him."
"He's too rich to refuse."
"Mabel"--I spoke28 this time and severely44--"you are much too nice a girl to make such a sordid45 match, and with a man who might be your father. Chuck him, and chuck it, and make Dickey Weston do his duty."
"Which Dickey will be quite willing to do," said Cannington amiably46, "especially as he told me that he loved you, Mab."
"Oh," the girl jumped up and with a fine blush threw the half-finished cigarette into the fireplace. "Why didn't you tell me that before, Cannington? I know what I'll do." She reflected for three seconds. "I'll tell Mr. Marr that he shall have his answer as a Christmas box, and meanwhile I'll see if I can't make Dickey jealous. Cannington, you are sure that Dickey said what you say he said?"
"Quite sure. He said it twice."
"Then he must mean it," cried Mabel energetically. "So I can hold off Mr. Marr and make Dickey jealous by pretending to flirt with him. After all I love Dickey and Dickey loves me, so why shouldn't we marry?"
"I am sure," said I cynically47, "that if you put the position clearly to Weston in that way he would do his duty."
"I don't want him to do his duty, just as if I was driving him to the altar," she said, much exasperated48. "I wouldn't marry Dickey if I didn't love him, not if he were twice as rich."
"What about Marr?"
She wilfully49 chose to ignore my hint. "He can remain as a second string to my bow, Cyrus. After all I must marry money. Aunt Lucy"--this was Lady Denham, the late earl's sister--"is always grumbling50 about my dresses. And--and--and--oh, well, then, never mind, I must be getting back to town." She looked at her bracelet51 watch. "There's a theatre party and supper at the Ritz to-night, so I haven't much time.
"And the situation?" asked Cannington, helping52 her on with her cloak.
"I'll temporise and give Dickey a chance."
"Which means that Marr will have none," I said gravely, "that's not fair."
Mabel shrugged53 her shoulders, and made the truly feminine answer. "You're a man and don't understand. Oh," she stopped at the door suddenly, "by the way, Aunt Lucy told me that your name was in the papers, Cyrus, about some murder. I've just thought about it. Aren't you accused of sticking pins into some one? Tell me all about it on the way to the station; it will amuse me, you know."
This refreshing54 candour made me laugh right out, as we descended55 the stairs. "I am glad that you have even an afterthought of my amusing position," said I, very drily.
She had the grace to colour. "Oh, I didn't quite mean that, Cyrus; but after all, I can't think of everything at once."
"Cannington did that, Mabel. He has been a brick, and but for his assistance I should never have pulled through."
"What rot," muttered the boy, but he was secretly pleased.
"Then you are in danger?" cried Mabel, startled.
"I have been," I replied with emphasis, "as I discovered the body. But my own spotless reputation and Cannington's asseverations of my honesty, prevented my being arrested."
"I'm so glad, Cyrus. Such a horrid thing for one's friend being arrested for a nasty pin-sticking crime."
"Horrid indeed--for the friend."
"Where did you hear of the murder, Mab?" questioned her brother.
"Oh, the papers yesterday and this morning were full of it. Aunt Lucy drew my attention to them, as she knew that I knew you," said Mabel incoherently. "You were at the inquest, weren't you, Cyrus, and gave evidence? Tell me all about it, as I only read scraps57."
"There's very little to tell," I answered, yawning, for really I felt extremely tired. "I found Mrs. Caldershaw dead in the back room, and a woman in a white cloak, presumably her murderess, ran off with my motor car."
"I read all that. What else?"
"Nothing else, save that we found the car and not the woman. A jury of twelve good and lawful58 yokels59 brought in a verdict of murder against some person or persons unknown."
"But I thought you said this woman was guilty?"
"It is presumed so, since she bolted with my car and hasn't turned up. Her name is unknown, so the verdict is quite right."
"But persons," persisted Lady Mabel inquisitively61.
"A mere62 graceful63 addition to round off the sentence. I believe that this woman stabbed Mrs. Caldershaw with a sapphire64-headed hat-pin."
"Sapphire-headed; she must have been rich."
"Oh, Vance is drawing on his theatrical65 imagination," struck in Cannington impatiently, "the sapphire he talks of was only blue glass."
"Oh, that reminds me that the papers said something about a glass eye."
"I expect they said a very great deal about it," I assented66 gravely. "Catch your journalist missing a chance of hinting at mystery."
"Is it a mystery?" asked Mabel, walking before us into the station.
"More or less--possibly more. Mrs. Caldershaw was murdered by this unknown woman, presumably for the sake of her glass eye."
"But why?"
Cannington laughed. "That's what the police are trying to learn; not that they ever will. I believe the truth will never be discovered."
"Are there no letters, no papers? Is there no gossip likely to----"
I interrupted, impatiently, for the absence of circumstantial evidence bothered me greatly. "Inspector67 Dredge looked over all the papers and letters of the dead woman, and found nothing likely to lead to the discovery of the guilty person's name. As to gossip, it appears that Mrs. Caldershaw kept to herself in the corner shop, and little was known about her. She came to Mootley five years ago with her savings68, having been the housekeeper69 of Gabriel Monk of Burwain, near Gattlingsands. There she started a shop, and at times received a visit from Miss Gertrude Monk, whom she nursed, and from Miss Destiny, who is the young lady's aunt."
"Two women," breathed Mabel, facing me; "do you think----"
"That either one is guilty?" I interrupted again and somewhat sharply. "No, I certainly do not. Miss Destiny was on her way to stay the night with Mrs. Caldershaw when the crime was committed; and at the inquest she stated that she left her niece behind at The Lodge70, Burwain."
"You needn't be so cross about it," said Mabel, staring at my acrid71 tone. "I only suggested possibilities. What are you laughing at, Cannington?"
"Nothing," said the boy untruthfully, and looked hard at me. The fact of my admiration for Miss Monk's pictured face--we had discussed her several times before and after the inquest--was in his mind, as I well knew. But he had grace enough to keep this to himself, and not set Lady Mabel's too ready tongue chattering72.
"I wish you wouldn't giggle73, Cannington," she said, accepting the excuse, "it's growing on you. Well," she faced me, "and what are you going to do?"
"About what, if you please?"
"About this murder?"
"What the deuce should he do?" cried Cannington, openly surprised. "He's well out of an awkward situation, so there's no more to be said. I daresay he'll write a melodrama74 on the case and solve the mystery in the wrong way."
"I am not so sure," said I pointedly76, "that I won't try to solve it the right way."
"What do you mean by that?" asked my friend, staring.
"I mean that the mystery of Mrs. Caldershaw's glass eye fascinates me, and that I intend to follow up what clues there are."
"There aren't any," said Cannington promptly. "You heard what Inspector Dredge remarked at the inquest."
"He admitted that he could find no evidence, it is true, but that doesn't mean to say that evidence is not to be found."
"Are you about to turn an amateur detective?"
"Why not? Now why are you laughing?"
"Oh, he's crazy," said Mabel disdainfully. "Here comes my train. I'll have a rush to reach town and dress. Aunt Lucy is always so punctual, I'm sure to get into hot water."
"Ask Mr. Wentworth Marr to get you out of it," said I jokingly.
"He could," she replied seriously, leaning out of the carriage window. "Aunt Lucy thinks no end of him, and would be glad to see me his wife."
"Don't you do anything in a hurry, Mabel,"--began Cannington, when his expostulations were cut short by the departure of the train. When the ruddy tail light of the guard's van disappeared, he took my arm with a friendly hug. "I didn't give you away, did I, Vance?"
"There's nothing to give away," I said gruffly.
"Oh! oh! oh!" said Cannington, in three distinct keys. "What about love at first sight, old man? You intend to follow up this case, so as to get into touch with the original of that photograph."
"Rubbish! You are jumping in the dark."
"Don't you jump," advised the boy shrewdly. "Your fancy has evidently been caught by Miss Monk's face, and if you meet her, there's no telling but that you may be a married man before Christmas."
I denied this hotly, and proceeded to show that my interest in the case was more or less official. "Mystery piques77 every man," said I insistently78, "so I mean to learn why Mrs. Caldershaw was murdered, and why she attached such value to that glass eye of hers."
Cannington laughed and declined to believe, but being a thoroughly79 good fellow, ceased to chaff80 me when he saw that I looked annoyed. "All the same," he remarked, as we strolled back to his quarters, "I shall keep an eye on you, Vance. You're too inflammable, and I don't want you to marry in haste and repent81 at leisure."
Of course I laughed, uneasily maybe, for Cannington was right in the main. I certainly was anxious to solve the mystery, but I doubted if my zeal82 would have been equal to so arduous83 a task, had not the memory of that lovely face lured84 me onward85, like a will-o'-the-wisp. I had long since wished to secure the photograph, so as to have the image of my divinity constantly before my eyes, but Dredge very reasonably declined to permit the illegal annexation86. Mrs. Caldershaw's will, which had been found by the Inspector amongst her shop accounts, left all she died possessed87 of to her nephew, Joseph Striver. He proved on inquiry to be a Burwain gardener in the employment of Mr. Walter Monk. "If Striver will give, or sell you the portrait," said Dredge, with official phlegm, "I have no objection; it isn't my property."
The police-officer was much too grim and unromantic to guess why I sought to possess the photograph, and needless to say, I did not tell him. Also he was considerably88 annoyed by his failure to solve the mystery of Mrs. Caldershaw's murder, since its solution would have procured89 him both praise and promotion90. So no one but Cannington guessed my silly infatuation, which assuredly was silly, for who but an idiot would fall in love with a pictured face on the instant. But there was no denying it, that I was in the toils91 of Venus, so, although angered by such unaccountable weakness, I was bent92 upon meeting the original. Then,--ah, well, the future is on the knees of the gods.
However, since I was minded to trace out the truth of the crime, it was necessary to find some clue to start the trail. All that evening after dinner, and later in the billiard-room, where I played snooker with sundry93 young officers, I inwardly wondered how I could and should begin. The hat-pin revealed nothing, as every woman uses hat-pins, and such with blue-glass heads were probably common enough. The missing eye might have thrown some light on the darkness, but that was safe in the pocket of the assassin. It will be noticed that, in spite of the open verdict of the jury, I clung to the idea that the white-cloaked woman was guilty. Not only had she fled with my car, but she had locked me in with her victim to prevent immediate pursuit. Also the abandonment of the motor pointed75 to guilt60. She had been seen by Giles, by Miss Destiny, and by Lucinda, but from the time my machine had been sent crashing through the five-barred gate by her reckless, or intendedly reckless, driving, she had vanished as completely as though the earth had opened to swallow her up. Yet she might have guessed that the aggressively striking white cloak would betray her. In my opinion, a woman who had so cleverly engineered her escape would scarcely be foolish enough to risk detection by her dress, so I conjectured94 that she must have got rid of the cloak as she had got rid of the Rippler. With this idea in my head, I settled, without telling Cannington, to explore the field wherein the machine had been abandoned.
When at rest for the night, I remembered that Mrs. Giles, who had not been called as a witness, had stated how Mrs. Caldershaw entertained the idea that she would not die in her bed. I had questioned the greengrocer's wife on this point, but she could tell me nothing more. Mrs. Caldershaw gave no hint of any enemy, or even of the possibility of a tragic95 death. All she had done was to make the above statement to Mrs. Giles in a burst of confidence, and to shiver when the Litany mentioned "murder and sudden death." Mrs. Giles was particular about this point. "I was sitting next to her in the same pew," said Mrs. Giles insistently, "and she shivered and shook and looked over her shoulder, apprehensive96 like. It happened three times, and that was what made me observe it. I'm sure she was frightened of something or of someone."
This might have been the case, but Mrs. Caldershaw never explained, and carried the reason of her fright in silence to her untimely grave. Connecting Mrs. Giles' story with the remark of Miss Destiny as to the value set on the glass eye by the woman, and with the sinister97 fact that the glass eye was missing, I felt certain that the way to begin the search was to take the eye itself as a clue. Local gossip in Mootley revealed few useful facts, as Mrs. Faith appeared to be the sole person who had been told about the eye by its owner, and none of the villagers seemed to know that one eye had been different to the other. But in Burwain, where Mrs. Caldershaw had lived for years as Gabriel Monk's housekeeper, and as nurse to his niece, the truth might be found by careful inquiry. If I could learn where the unfortunate woman got her glass eye, and what accident had brought about the necessity for a glass eye, the chances were that I might learn something which would enable me to trace the truth. Therefore I determined98 to go to Burwain and hunt out all information about Mrs. Caldershaw's past. Meanwhile there remained the field near Murchester to be explored.
Next morning Cannington was engaged on some court-martial so I was left to my own devices, although he wanted to hand me over for entertainment to a less busy brother officer. I excused myself on the plea that I wished to walk off a headache, and so contrived to leave the Barracks unhindered. It was nine o'clock when I set out, and the morning was wonderfully clear for misty99 August. The field, as I stated before, was only half a mile from Murchester, so I speedily arrived therein. I left the middle of it, where the Rippler had been stranded100, severely alone, and skirted round the sides to examine the hedges. These were ragged101 and untrimmed, with deep ditches on their inner sides, and consisted of holly102, bramble, hawthorn103, and various saplings. I scratched myself more or less severely for quite one hour, but without discovering any sign of the white cloak. Perhaps, I thought, much discouraged, the woman had risked wearing it after all. Yet I could not believe that she had been such a fool, seeing how cleverly she had manipulated her escape.
Then I noticed that there were two gates to the field, one with the broken bars, through which she had entered from the high-road in the car, and the other on the far side, to the right-hand looking from the road. It then occurred to me that the flying lady, scared by meeting Miss Destiny's trap, and perhaps afraid lest she had injured it and would be stopped for damages, might have left the field by this last gate. I immediately walked towards it and found that it opened on to a narrow lane, which in winter must have become a stream of mud. The hedges were very ragged and tangled104 here, and the gate was nearly hidden, a common five-barred, unpainted gate, in a worse condition than that opening on to the road.
I knew that I had struck on the flying woman's trail, almost as soon as I arrived at this hidden gate. On one of the brambles a filmy scrap6 of gauze fluttered in the wind. Apparently while getting over the gate in her hurried flight, the woman's veil had caught in the thorns and she had twitched105 it irritably away, leaving the scrap unthinkingly behind as evidence. I secured the same and placed it in my pocket-book, then made a thorough examination of the gate on both sides. No further evidence was forthcoming until I searched the ditch, which in this instance was on the farther side of the hedge. There, hidden amongst the dank weeds, thrust into a convenient rabbit-hole in the crumbling106 clay bank, was the cloak itself. I drew it out with a sensation of triumph, and from it was wafted107 the torn veil. I had the outfit108 complete, save for the motoring cap.
Evidently the rending109 of the veil had drawn110 the woman's attention to the eccentricity111 of a white cloak worn on a chilly112 autumnal evening. Acting113 promptly, as was her custom--I guessed that from the theft of my car--she had concealed114 cloak and veil, and then had vanished down the muddy lane, heaven only knows whither. But I had now the evidence.
It was a white cloak, of good and even expensive material. Round the neck, down the front, and along the hem56, two letters were embroidered115 repeatedly in blue silk so as to form a pattern. They were G. M. I dropped the cloak and gasped116 with dismay. G. M., in twisted fanciful letters, formed the running adornment117 of the cloak worn by the woman who had stolen my car and who had, to all appearances, murdered Mrs. Anne Caldershaw. And the name of the child she had nursed, of the woman with whose portrait I had fallen so unexpectedly in love, was Gertrude Monk.
"It's a lie," I said aloud to nobody in particular. "I don't believe it."
All the same, the accusing initials were there, G. M.--Gertrude Monk.
点击
收听单词发音
收听单词发音 |
1
trifling
|
|
| adj.微不足道的；没什么价值的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
2
bogged
|
|
| adj.陷于泥沼的v.（使）陷入泥沼， （使）陷入困境( bog的过去式和过去分词 )；妨碍，阻碍 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
3
friable
|
|
| adj.易碎的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
4
furrows
|
|
| n.犁沟( furrow的名词复数 )；（脸上的）皱纹v.犁田，开沟( furrow的第三人称单数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
5
deserted
|
|
| adj.荒芜的，荒废的，无人的，被遗弃的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
6
scrap
|
|
| n.碎片；废料；v.废弃，报废 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
7
immediate
|
|
| adj.立即的；直接的，最接近的；紧靠的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
8
machinery
|
|
| n.(总称)机械，机器；机构 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
9
expeditiously
|
|
| adv.迅速地，敏捷地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
10
smoothly
|
|
| adv.平滑地，顺利地，流利地，流畅地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
11
contrived
|
|
| adj.不自然的，做作的；虚构的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
12
overhauled
|
|
| v.彻底检查( overhaul的过去式和过去分词 )；大修；赶上；超越 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
13
enthralling
|
|
| 迷人的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
14
casually
|
|
| adv.漠不关心地，无动于衷地，不负责任地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
15
indifference
|
|
| n.不感兴趣，不关心，冷淡，不在乎 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
16
knotty
|
|
| adj.有结的，多节的，多瘤的，棘手的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
17
irritably
|
|
| ad.易生气地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
18
lamented
|
|
| adj.被哀悼的，令人遗憾的v.（为…）哀悼，痛哭，悲伤( lament的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
19
inquiry
|
|
| n.打听，询问，调查，查问 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
20
transit
|
|
| n.经过，运输；vt.穿越，旋转；vi.越过 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
21
apparently
|
|
| adv.显然地；表面上，似乎 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
22
babbling
|
|
| n.胡说，婴儿发出的咿哑声adj.胡说的v.喋喋不休( babble的现在分词 )；作潺潺声（如流水）；含糊不清地说话；泄漏秘密 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
23
monk
|
|
| n.和尚，僧侣，修道士 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
24
fatigued
|
|
| adj. 疲乏的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
25
interval
|
|
| n.间隔，间距；幕间休息，中场休息 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
26
renovated
|
|
| 翻新，修复，整修( renovate的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
27
outspoken
|
|
| adj.直言无讳的，坦率的，坦白无隐的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
28
spoke
|
|
| 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 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
29
flirt
|
|
| v.调情，挑逗，调戏；n.调情者，卖俏者 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
30
prosaic
|
|
| adj.单调的，无趣的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
31
miserable
|
|
| adj.悲惨的，痛苦的；可怜的，糟糕的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
32
horrid
|
|
| adj.可怕的；令人惊恐的；恐怖的；极讨厌的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
33
toddle
|
|
| v.（如小孩）蹒跚学步 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
34
promptly
|
|
| adv.及时地，敏捷地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
35
wriggled
|
|
| v.扭动，蠕动，蜿蜒行进( wriggle的过去式和过去分词 )；（使身体某一部位）扭动；耍滑不做，逃避（应做的事等） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
36
emphasise
|
|
| vt.加强...的语气，强调，着重 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
37
admiration
|
|
| n.钦佩，赞美，羡慕 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
38
enlist
|
|
| vt.谋取(支持等)，赢得；征募；vi.入伍 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
39
candidly
|
|
| adv.坦率地，直率而诚恳地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
40
awfully
|
|
| adv.可怕地，非常地，极端地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
41
lighting
|
|
| n.照明，光线的明暗，舞台灯光 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
42
frankly
|
|
| adv.坦白地，直率地；坦率地说 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
43
shrug
|
|
| v.耸肩(表示怀疑、冷漠、不知等) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
44
severely
|
|
| adv.严格地；严厉地；非常恶劣地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
45
sordid
|
|
| adj.肮脏的，不干净的，卑鄙的，暗淡的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
46
amiably
|
|
| adv.和蔼可亲地，亲切地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
47
cynically
|
|
| adv.爱嘲笑地，冷笑地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
48
exasperated
|
|
| adj.恼怒的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
49
wilfully
|
|
| adv.任性固执地；蓄意地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
50
grumbling
|
|
| adj. 喃喃鸣不平的, 出怨言的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
51
bracelet
|
|
| n.手镯，臂镯 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
52
helping
|
|
| n.食物的一份&adj.帮助人的，辅助的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
53
shrugged
|
|
| vt.耸肩（shrug的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
54
refreshing
|
|
| adj.使精神振作的，使人清爽的，使人喜欢的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
55
descended
|
|
| a.为...后裔的，出身于...的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
56
hem
|
|
| n.贴边，镶边；vt.缝贴边；(in)包围，限制 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
57
scraps
|
|
| 油渣 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
58
lawful
|
|
| adj.法律许可的，守法的，合法的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
59
yokels
|
|
| n.乡下佬，土包子( yokel的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
60
guilt
|
|
| n.犯罪；内疚；过失，罪责 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
61
inquisitively
|
|
| 过分好奇地； 好问地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
62
mere
|
|
| adj.纯粹的；仅仅，只不过 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
63
graceful
|
|
| adj.优美的，优雅的；得体的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
64
sapphire
|
|
| n.青玉，蓝宝石；adj.天蓝色的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
65
theatrical
|
|
| adj.剧场的，演戏的；做戏似的，做作的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
66
assented
|
|
| 同意，赞成( assent的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
67
inspector
|
|
| n.检查员，监察员，视察员 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
68
savings
|
|
| n.存款，储蓄 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
69
housekeeper
|
|
| n.管理家务的主妇，女管家 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
70
lodge
|
|
| v.临时住宿，寄宿，寄存，容纳；n.传达室，小旅馆 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
71
acrid
|
|
| adj.辛辣的，尖刻的，刻薄的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
72
chattering
|
|
| n. （机器振动发出的）咔嗒声，(鸟等)鸣，啁啾 adj. 喋喋不休的，啾啾声的 动词chatter的现在分词形式 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
73
giggle
|
|
| n.痴笑，咯咯地笑；v.咯咯地笑着说 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
74
melodrama
|
|
| n.音乐剧；情节剧 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
75
pointed
|
|
| adj.尖的，直截了当的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
76
pointedly
|
|
| adv.尖地，明显地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
77
piques
|
|
| v.伤害…的自尊心( pique的第三人称单数 )；激起（好奇心） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
78
insistently
|
|
| ad.坚持地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
79
thoroughly
|
|
| adv.完全地，彻底地，十足地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
80
chaff
|
|
| v.取笑，嘲笑；n.谷壳 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
81
repent
|
|
| v.悔悟，悔改，忏悔，后悔 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
82
zeal
|
|
| n.热心，热情，热忱 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
83
arduous
|
|
| adj.艰苦的，费力的，陡峭的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
84
lured
|
|
| 吸引，引诱（lure的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
85
onward
|
|
| adj.向前的，前进的；adv.向前，前进，在先 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
86
annexation
|
|
| n.吞并，合并 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
87
possessed
|
|
| adj.疯狂的；拥有的，占有的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
88
considerably
|
|
| adv.极大地；相当大地；在很大程度上 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
89
procured
|
|
| v.（努力）取得， （设法）获得( procure的过去式和过去分词 )；拉皮条 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
90
promotion
|
|
| n.提升，晋级；促销，宣传 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
91
toils
|
|
| 网 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
92
bent
|
|
| n.爱好，癖好；adj.弯的；决心的，一心的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
93
sundry
|
|
| adj.各式各样的，种种的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
94
conjectured
|
|
| 推测，猜测，猜想( conjecture的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
95
tragic
|
|
| adj.悲剧的，悲剧性的，悲惨的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
96
apprehensive
|
|
| adj.担心的，恐惧的，善于领会的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
97
sinister
|
|
| adj.不吉利的，凶恶的，左边的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
98
determined
|
|
| adj.坚定的；有决心的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
99
misty
|
|
| adj.雾蒙蒙的，有雾的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
100
stranded
|
|
| a.搁浅的，进退两难的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
101
ragged
|
|
| adj.衣衫褴褛的，粗糙的，刺耳的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
102
holly
|
|
| n.[植]冬青属灌木 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
103
hawthorn
|
|
| 山楂 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
104
tangled
|
|
| adj. 纠缠的，紊乱的 动词tangle的过去式和过去分词 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
105
twitched
|
|
| vt.& vi.（使）抽动，（使）颤动（twitch的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
106
crumbling
|
|
| adj.摇摇欲坠的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
107
wafted
|
|
| v.吹送，飘送，（使）浮动( waft的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
108
outfit
|
|
| n.（为特殊用途的）全套装备，全套服装 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
109
rending
|
|
| v.撕碎( rend的现在分词 )；分裂；（因愤怒、痛苦等而）揪扯（衣服或头发等）；（声音等）刺破 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
110
drawn
|
|
| v.拖，拉，拔出；adj.憔悴的，紧张的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
111
eccentricity
|
|
| n.古怪，反常，怪癖 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
112
chilly
|
|
| adj.凉快的，寒冷的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
113
acting
|
|
| n.演戏，行为，假装；adj.代理的，临时的，演出用的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
114
concealed
|
|
| a.隐藏的，隐蔽的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
115
embroidered
|
|
| adj．绣花的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
116
gasped
|
|
| v.喘气( gasp的过去式和过去分词 )；喘息；倒抽气；很想要 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
117
adornment
|
|
| n.装饰；装饰品 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
| 欢迎访问英文小说网 |