“He’s a rare plucked one,” thought the Honourable to himself, as he started the horses in a gallop14, apparently15 with no other view than that of arriving at the destination proposed. The night was dark, and threatening rain as it clouded over rapidly; the way intricate, full of turns and difficulties; and The Boy, is it needless to observe, helplessly drunk in the rumble16. He would have been a venturous speculator who had taken five to one that they arrived safe at Market Harborough.
The wheels flew round with frightful18 velocity19, scattering20 the mud profusely21 over the occupants of the carriage. The horses with lowered heads laid themselves down to their work, pulling wildly. The Honourable’s arms were extended, and his feet thrust forward. He would not have admitted it, but it looked very much as if they were running away with him.
“An’t they getting a little out of your hand?” asked Mr. Sawyer, hazarding the question in its mildest form, as he recognised Marathon’s well-known manner of putting down his head when he meant mischief22; and calculated if anything should give way, whereabouts his own body would shoot to, at that pace.
“Only going free,” answered Crasher with the utmost composure, though his cigar was burnt all the way down one side to his lips by the current of air created in the rapidity of their transit23. “Remarkably free—but I like phaeton horses to run up to their bits.”
“Do you?” thought Mr. Sawyer; but, despite the enthusiasm and the claret, and the romance of the whole evening, he wished himself anywhere else. Independent of the ignominious24 ending of being dashed to pieces out of a phaeton, it would be hard lines never to see Cissy Dove again. However, there was nothing for it but to sit still and trust to Crasher’s coachmanship. Anything like expostulation with that gentleman he felt would be worse than useless.
I recollect25 to have seen or heard somewhere an anecdote26 of the celebrated27 “Hell-fire Dick,” which exhibits such sang-froid in a dangerous predicament as to be worth repeating. Dick, then, who had attained28 his flaming sobriquet29 by the dashing pace and general recklessness with which he drove, was not only one of the most skilful30 of the old-fashioned Long coachmen, but was equally noted31 for the cool imperturbability32 of his demeanour and the suavity33 of his replies. One very dark night, whilst proceeding34 at his usual pace, he was so unfortunate as to get off the road on a common where several gravel-pits yawning on each side for his reception, made the mistake as dangerous as it was disagreeable. With a tremendous lurch35 the coach swung over one of these ready-made graves, and there was just light enough to perceive the fifteen feet or so of sheer descent yawning for its victims. “Where have you got to now, Dick?” exclaimed the box-passenger, in accents of pardonable irritation36 and alarm. “Can’t say, sir,” replied Dick, with the utmost politeness, while they were all turning over together—“Can’t say, I’m sure—never was here before!”
Now, if the Honourable Crasher had been going to be shot the next minute, it is my firm conviction that impending37 destruction would not have ruffled38 his plumes39, nor agitated40 the languor41 of his accustomed manner in the slightest degree. Whether such a temperament42 is entirely43 natural, or is not rather to a certain extent the result of education, enhanced by what we must call the affectation peculiar44 to a class, it is not our business to inquire: but we may fairly acknowledge to a respectful commiseration45 for a quiet respectable country gentleman who finds his neck committed to the keeping of one of these imperturbable46, placid47, yet utterly48 reckless adventurers.
The wind was getting up, and a heavy shower of mingled49 sleet50 and rain dashing in their faces, added considerably51 to the discomfort52 of the whole process.
“This can’t last long,” murmured Mr. Sawyer below his breath, and holding on vigorously to the side of the carriage the while, as they whirled fiercely through the obscurity, the rush of their career varied53 only by frequent jumps and bumps that threatened to jerk him clean out over the splash-board. He was not very far wrong in his calculations.
Their course lay along one of those field-roads so common in Leicestershire, where the track on a dark night is not easily distinguished54 from the adjacent ridge-and-furrow55, and which, delightful56 to the equestrian57 for that very reason, as no jealous fence prevents him diverging58 for a canter on to the springy pasture, are less convenient for carriages owing to the number of gates that delay the passage of the vehicle. They were now approaching the first of these obstacles to their course, and Crasher had not yet got a pull at his horses.
“It’s open, I think,” remarked the Honourable, peering into the darkness ahead, and endeavouring to moderate the pace without effect.
“I think not!” replied Mr. Sawyer, setting his teeth for a catastrophe59.
Right again! Three more strides and they were into it!
A crackling smashing noise of broken wood-work—one or two violent bangs against the splash-board—a faint expostulation of “Gently, my lads!” from the Honourable—a tremendous jolt60 against the post, which was torn up by the roots—and Mr. Sawyer found himself on his face and hands in an exceedingly wet furrow; a little stunned61, a good deal confused, and feeling very much as if somebody had knocked him down, and he did not know whom to be angry with.
As he rose and shook himself to ascertain62 that no bones were broken, much struggling and groaning63 as of an animal in distress64, mingled with weeping and lamentation65 from a human voice, smote66 on his ear. The former arose from Marathon, who couldn’t get up, with the other horse and the pole and part of the carriage atop of him: the latter from The Boy, who, frightened for the moment into a spurious sobriety, thus gave vent17 to his feelings of utter despondency and desolation.
“I thought the brute could jump timber,” said a calm voice in the surrounding darkness. “Let us see: here’s the carriage—there are the horses—and that must be The Boy. Where are you, Sawyer?”
“Here!” answered our friend, coming forward, rubbing his elbows and knees, to discover if he was hurt; the Honourable, who had never abandoned his cigar, endeavouring to extricate67 the horses—a measure only to be accomplished68 by dint69 of cutting the harness—and to estimate the amount of damage, and the impossibility of putting in to refit.
Our friend set to work with a will. By their joint70 endeavours they succeeded at last in getting the hapless Marathon and his companion clear of the wreck71. Both were obviously lamed72 and injured; the carriage, as far as could be made out in the darkness, broken all to pieces.
The Boy, after flickering73 up for a few minutes, had become again unconscious. As the old watchman used to sing out, it was “Past one o’clock and a stormy morning!”
“Whereabouts are we?” asked Mr. Sawyer in dolorous74 accents, as he tried to persuade himself he ought to be thankful it was no worse. “Whereabouts are we, and what had we better do?”
“Over a hundred miles from London,” answered the Honourable, “that’s all I know about it. Holloaing, I suppose, would be no use—there can’t be a house within hearing, and the fly has gone the other road. Have a cigar, old fellow! and, just to keep the fun going, perhaps you wouldn’t mind singing us a song?”
It was only under a calamity75 like the present that the Honourable condescended76 to be facetious77.
Mr. Sawyer was on the verge78 of making an angry reply, when the sound of a horse’s hoofs79 advancing with considerable rapidity changed it into a vigorous call for assistance.
“Hilli-ho! ho!” shouted Mr. Sawyer. “Hilli-ho! ho!” answered a jolly voice, as the hoofs ceased, and came clattering80 on again, denoting that the rider had pulled up to listen and was coming speedily to help. “What’s up now?” asked the jolly voice, in somewhat convivial81 accents, as an equestrian mass of drab and leggings, which was all that could be made out through the darkness, loomed82 indistinctly into the foreground. “What’s up now, mates? got the wrong end uppermost this turn, sure-lie.”
“Come to grief at the gate,” explained the Honourable. “Didn’t go quite fast enough at it, Sawyer,” he added, half reflectively, half apologetically, to his friend.
“Why, it’s Muster83 Crasher!” exclaimed the jolly voice, in delighted tones. “Well, to be sure! Not the first gate, neither, by a many—only to think of it, well, well! But come, let’s see what’s the damage done—dear! dear! you’ll never get home to-night. You must come up to my place, ’tain’t above a mile through the fields—we’ll get you put up, nags84 and all, and send down for the trap first thing i’ the morning. How lucky I was passing this way! Coming back from market, ye see, I’d just stopped to smoke a pipe with neighbour Mark down at The Holt, and was maken’ for home in a hurry, ’cause it’s rather past my time, you know, when I hear this gentleman a hollerin’ murder! Up I comes and finds the ship overboard with a vengeance86. What a start it is, sure-lie!”
Thus moralising, and never leaving off talking for an instant, the jolly yeoman jumped off his horse, and lent his powerful assistance to clear away the wreck; shaking The Boy into life again with considerable energy. In a few minutes the four men, leading the two damaged carriage-horses, were stumbling and groping their way across the fields towards the new arrival’s farm.
Ere they reached their destination, the owner, with considerable politeness, introduced himself to our friend. “No offence, sir,” said he, “my name’s Trotter—Trotter of Trotter’s Lodge87, and that’s my place where you see the lights a shinin’—Mr. Crasher, he knows me well—think I’ve met you out a huntin’ more than once this season—allow me, sir, we’ll have the missus up in no time, and a hearty88 welcome to you both.”
As Mr. Trotter thus hospitably89 concluded, he ushered90 his guests into a comfortable kitchen, where a tallow candle was still glimmering91 in its accustomed place. The master was obviously in the habit of coming home late; but that the practice was contrary to the rules of domestic discipline Mr. Sawyer gathered from the accents of a shrill92 voice raised in tones of reproach from an upstairs dormitory.
“Trotter! Trotter!” exclaimed the voice, unconscious of visitors, and proceeding apparently from beneath a considerable weight of bed-clothes, “is that you at last? It’s too bad! It’s nigh upon two o’clock. Mind you rake out the fire, and don’t go spilling the candle-grease all about as you come upstairs!”
Mr. Trotter, still perceptibly elevated, winked93 facetiously94 at his guests. “Get up, Margery!” he called out; “get up, I tell ye! make haste and come down. Never mind your night-cap. Here’s two gentlemen come to see ye!” And with many apologies and repeated allusions95 to the substantive96 “keys,” Mr. Trotter stirred up the fire, lit another candle, and proceeded upstairs to rouse his better-half.
In less time than you or I as a bachelor could believe it possible, a smiling dame97 made her appearance from above-stairs, with a neat morning cap over her comely98 head, and a bright rosy99 face, very different from the sallow hues100 of many a fine lady when first she wakes, blushing beneath it. That her petticoat was put on in a hurry, and her gown unfastened behind, was only what might be expected in such a rapid turn-out. These trifling101 drawbacks detracted not the least from the bustling102 hospitality with which she received her guests. It was only by the most pathetic entreaties103 that the Honourable dissuaded104 her from having a fire lighted in the best parlour, and extorted105 her permission for them to sit in the kitchen.
Dry slippers106 were soon provided for the guests. The horses, inspected by the stable lantern, were discovered not to be irremediably injured, though Marathon’s chance was out for the steeple-chase, “if indeed,” as his former and present owners remarked in a breath, though with different emphasis, “he ever had one.” The Boy was put to bed, where he might be heard snoring all over the house. What Mr. Trotter called a “snack” was set on the table, consisting of a round of beef, a ham, some cold pork-pie, an Eddish cheese, and a few other trifles of a like nature, adapted for a late meal as being light and easy of digestion107. Port and sherry were produced and declined in favour of huge steaming beakers of hot brandy-and-water. Arrangements were entered into for forwarding the two gentlemen to Harborough in the farmer’s gig “first thing to-morrow morning.” Mr. Trotter produced a box of cigars and announced his intention of “making a night of it!”
A faint scream from his wife promised to a certain extent to modify the conviviality108 of the meeting. “She couldn’t abear the sight of blood,” she said, with many excuses for her feminine susceptibility, and drew the company’s attention to the personal appearance of Mr. Sawyer, which everybody had hitherto been too busy to observe, and which indeed presented a sufficiently109 ghastly aspect to excuse the good dame’s reiterated110 assurances that it “had give her quite a turn.”
A severe contusion on the eyebrow111, accompanied by a cut extending to the cheek-bone, and which had covered one side of his face with dried blood, made him look much more damaged than he really was, and though kindly112 Mrs. Trotter quickly recovered her equanimity113 and brought him warm water and vinegar and balsam, and eventually plastered him up with about half a sheet of diachylon, she could not help shuddering114 during the operation, and seemed glad when it was over. Our farmers’ wives of the present day are not quite so much accustomed to broken heads as bonny “Ailie,” the helpmate of immortal115 Dandie Dinmont.
The borderer, however, could not have been more hospitably inclined than was the jovial116 Leicestershire farmer. Setting aside the difference of time and locality, they had indeed many qualities in common. The same love of hunting, the same daring in the saddle, the same open-hearted hospitality and tendency to push good-fellowship a little over the bounds of sobriety. The only difference perhaps was this that Dandie Dinmont would have been getting up before Mr. Trotter was thinking of going to bed.
I am not going to recapitulate117 the sayings and doings of those jovial small hours after Mrs. Trotter had betaken herself once more hopelessly to her couch. The Honourable Crasher, always a gentleman, though rather a torpid118 one, was equally at home with a duke and a drayman, perhaps more in his element with a hunting friend like Trotter than either. The good runs they recapitulated119, the horses they remembered, the grey that was bought by Mr. G——, and the chestnut that had carried Lord W—— so well for years, the fences they had negotiated—nay, the very toasts they proposed and did justice to, would fill a chapter. It is sufficient to say that when Mr. Sawyer awoke in the best bedroom about sunrise the following morning, he had a racking head-ache, his mouth felt like the back of a Latin grammar, and the only distinct recollection with which he could charge his memory of the previous night’s conversation was his host’s recipe for making a young horse a safe fencer, which he certainly did not then feel in a condition to adopt.
“If you’ve got a green horse as you’re not very confident on at strong timber,” said Mr. Trotter, about the fourth glass of brandy-and-water, “you tackle him my way. You take him out o’ Sundays or any afternoon as you’ve nothing particular to do, and pick him out some real stiff ones. Give him two or three good heavy falls, and I’ll warrant you’ll have very little trouble afterwards. That’s the way to make ’em rise!—ain’t it, Mr. Crasher?”
After such a night’s amusement as I have described, gentlemen are apt to be later in the morning than they originally proposed.
Our belated travellers had intended getting back to their quarters at Harborough by eight or nine o’clock, there to make their toilets, discuss their breakfasts, and so proceed to covert120 methodically as usual, in time to meet Mr. Tailby’s clipping pack at Carlton Clump121. It was nine, however, before either of them was stirring, and then the hospitable122 Trotter, who was himself going to hunt, and who came in from shepherding as rosy and fresh as if he had never seen brandy-and-water in his life, would not hear of their going away without breakfast. Altogether they did not get clear of Trotter’s Lodge much before ten o’clock, and as they drove out of the farmyard they had the mortification123 of seeing their entertainer mounted on his four-year-old (“Fancy riding a four-year-old after such a night!” thought Mr. Sawyer) on his way to the meet. “And we’ve got to go home and dress, and then come all this way back again,” moralised the Honourable. “I say, Sawyer, I wish I could make this beggar go as fast as we did last night,” and Crasher smiled at the recollection, as a man smiles who recalls some peaceful scene of his youth, or some good action which he will never find cause to repent124.
This beggar, however, though a good farmer’s nag85 enough, knew quite well that it wasn’t his day for Market Harborough, and displayed great unwillingness125 to improve upon seven miles an hour in that direction. The chance of being in time faded away momently. Already they had overtaken several grooms126 with hunters; worse still, one or two early men on their hacks127 had overtaken them, and they had not yet struck into the high-road. At last the sound of wheels behind them caused the old horse to quicken his pace—not sufficiently so, however, to prevent the pursuing carriage from gaining on them rapidly. Mr. Sawyer looked back. Oh for a gig umbrella! It was none other than Parson Dove driving his daughter to the meet, that young lady’s very becoming costume denoting that it was her intention to join in the pleasures of the chase. Here was a predicament! To be detected by the queen of his affections, with whom he had parted at midnight, in all the correct decorum of evening costume, still in the same dress, so inappropriate at 10.30 A.M., bearing obvious tokens of having been out all night, and worse than all, with an inflamed128 countenance129, blood-shot eyes, and a face half-eclipsed in plaister! Perdition! It was not to be thought of!
With the energy of despair he snatched the whip from the Honourable’s astonished grasp, and applied130 it with such good will to the old horse’s ribs131, that the animal broke incontinently into a gallop, and turned into the high-road some fifty yards ahead of its pursuers, who would cross that thoroughfare directly, whereas Mr. Sawyer and its driver would follow its broad track to Harborough. “Cover me up!” exclaimed our friend to his laughing companion, as he crouched132 in the bottom of the carriage, under the scanty133 gig-apron, and devoutly134 hoped he had escaped recognition—“cover me up! I wouldn’t be seen in this plight135 by any of that family for a hundred pounds!” Nevertheless, he resolved, so to speak, to substantiate136 his alibi137 by swearing the Honourable to secrecy138, and abstaining139 altogether for that day from the chase.
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honourable
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| adj.可敬的；荣誉的，光荣的 | |
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brute
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| n.野兽，兽性 | |
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obstinacy
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| n.顽固；（病痛等）难治 | |
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transgressing
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| v.超越( transgress的现在分词 )；越过；违反；违背 | |
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chestnut
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| n.栗树，栗子 | |
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stiffen
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| v.(使)硬，(使)变挺，(使)变僵硬 | |
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instinctive
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| adj.(出于)本能的；直觉的；(出于)天性的 | |
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rigidity
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| adj.钢性，坚硬 | |
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apprehension
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| n.理解，领悟；逮捕，拘捕；忧虑 | |
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tilting
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| 倾斜，倾卸 | |
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armour
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| （=armor）n.盔甲；装甲部队 | |
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buckled
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| a. 有带扣的 | |
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doughty
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| adj.勇猛的，坚强的 | |
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gallop
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| v./n.(马或骑马等)飞奔；飞速发展 | |
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apparently
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| adv.显然地；表面上，似乎 | |
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rumble
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| n.隆隆声；吵嚷；v.隆隆响；低沉地说 | |
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vent
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| n.通风口，排放口；开衩；vt.表达，发泄 | |
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frightful
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| adj.可怕的；讨厌的 | |
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velocity
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| n.速度，速率 | |
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scattering
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| n.[物]散射；散乱，分散；在媒介质中的散播adj.散乱的；分散在不同范围的；广泛扩散的；（选票）数量分散的v.散射(scatter的ing形式)；散布；驱散 | |
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profusely
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| ad.abundantly | |
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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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transit
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| n.经过，运输；vt.穿越，旋转；vi.越过 | |
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ignominious
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| adj.可鄙的，不光彩的，耻辱的 | |
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recollect
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| v.回忆，想起，记起，忆起，记得 | |
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anecdote
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| n.轶事，趣闻，短故事 | |
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celebrated
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| adj.有名的，声誉卓著的 | |
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attained
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| （通常经过努力）实现( attain的过去式和过去分词 )； 达到； 获得； 达到（某年龄、水平、状况） | |
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sobriquet
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| n.绰号 | |
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skilful
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| (=skillful)adj.灵巧的，熟练的 | |
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noted
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| adj.著名的，知名的 | |
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imperturbability
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| n.冷静；沉着 | |
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suavity
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| n.温和；殷勤 | |
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proceeding
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| n.行动，进行，(pl.)会议录，学报 | |
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lurch
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| n.突然向前或旁边倒；v.蹒跚而行 | |
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irritation
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| n.激怒，恼怒，生气 | |
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impending
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| a.imminent, about to come or happen | |
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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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plumes
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| 羽毛( plume的名词复数 )； 羽毛饰； 羽毛状物； 升上空中的羽状物 | |
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agitated
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| adj.被鼓动的，不安的 | |
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languor
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| n.无精力，倦怠 | |
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temperament
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| n.气质，性格，性情 | |
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entirely
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| ad.全部地，完整地；完全地，彻底地 | |
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peculiar
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| adj.古怪的，异常的；特殊的，特有的 | |
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commiseration
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| n.怜悯，同情 | |
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imperturbable
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| adj.镇静的 | |
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placid
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| adj.安静的，平和的 | |
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utterly
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| adv.完全地，绝对地 | |
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mingled
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| 混合，混入( mingle的过去式和过去分词 )； 混进，与…交往[联系] | |
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sleet
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| n.雨雪；v.下雨雪，下冰雹 | |
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considerably
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| adv.极大地；相当大地；在很大程度上 | |
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discomfort
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| n.不舒服，不安，难过，困难，不方便 | |
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varied
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| adj.多样的，多变化的 | |
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distinguished
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| adj.卓越的，杰出的，著名的 | |
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furrow
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| n.沟；垄沟；轨迹；车辙；皱纹 | |
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56
delightful
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| adj.令人高兴的，使人快乐的 | |
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equestrian
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| adj.骑马的；n.马术 | |
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58
diverging
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| 分开( diverge的现在分词 )； 偏离； 分歧； 分道扬镳 | |
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59
catastrophe
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| n.大灾难，大祸 | |
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60
jolt
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| v.（使）摇动，（使）震动，（使）颠簸 | |
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61
stunned
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| adj. 震惊的，惊讶的 动词stun的过去式和过去分词 | |
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62
ascertain
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| vt.发现，确定，查明，弄清 | |
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63
groaning
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| adj. 呜咽的, 呻吟的 动词groan的现在分词形式 | |
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64
distress
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| n.苦恼，痛苦，不舒适；不幸；vt.使悲痛 | |
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65
lamentation
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| n.悲叹，哀悼 | |
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66
smote
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| v.猛打，重击，打击( smite的过去式 ) | |
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67
extricate
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| v.拯救，救出；解脱 | |
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68
accomplished
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| adj.有才艺的；有造诣的；达到了的 | |
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69
dint
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| n.由于，靠；凹坑 | |
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70
joint
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| adj.联合的，共同的；n.关节，接合处；v.连接，贴合 | |
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71
wreck
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| n.失事，遇难；沉船；vt.(船等)失事，遇难 | |
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72
lamed
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| 希伯莱语第十二个字母 | |
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73
flickering
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| adj.闪烁的，摇曳的，一闪一闪的 | |
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74
dolorous
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| adj.悲伤的；忧愁的 | |
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75
calamity
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| n.灾害，祸患，不幸事件 | |
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76
condescended
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| 屈尊，俯就( condescend的过去式和过去分词 )； 故意表示和蔼可亲 | |
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77
facetious
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| adj.轻浮的，好开玩笑的 | |
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78
verge
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| n.边，边缘；v.接近，濒临 | |
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79
hoofs
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| n.（兽的）蹄，马蹄( hoof的名词复数 )v.（兽的）蹄，马蹄( hoof的第三人称单数 ) | |
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80
clattering
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| 发出咔哒声（clatter的现在分词形式） | |
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81
convivial
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| adj.狂欢的，欢乐的 | |
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82
loomed
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| v.隐约出现，阴森地逼近( loom的过去式和过去分词 )；隐约出现，阴森地逼近 | |
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83
muster
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| v.集合，收集，鼓起，激起；n.集合，检阅，集合人员，点名册 | |
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84
nags
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| n.不断地挑剔或批评（某人）( nag的名词复数 )；不断地烦扰或伤害（某人）；无休止地抱怨；不断指责v.不断地挑剔或批评（某人）( nag的第三人称单数 )；不断地烦扰或伤害（某人）；无休止地抱怨；不断指责 | |
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85
nag
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| v.(对…)不停地唠叨；n.爱唠叨的人 | |
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86
vengeance
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| n.报复，报仇，复仇 | |
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87
lodge
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| v.临时住宿，寄宿，寄存，容纳；n.传达室，小旅馆 | |
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88
hearty
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| adj.热情友好的；衷心的；尽情的，纵情的 | |
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hospitably
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| 亲切地，招待周到地，善于款待地 | |
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90
ushered
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| v.引，领，陪同( usher的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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91
glimmering
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| n.微光，隐约的一瞥adj.薄弱地发光的v.发闪光，发微光( glimmer的现在分词 ) | |
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92
shrill
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| adj.尖声的；刺耳的；v尖叫 | |
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93
winked
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| v.使眼色( wink的过去式和过去分词 )；递眼色（表示友好或高兴等）；（指光）闪烁；闪亮 | |
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facetiously
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| adv.爱开玩笑地；滑稽地，爱开玩笑地 | |
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allusions
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| 暗指，间接提到( allusion的名词复数 ) | |
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96
substantive
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| adj.表示实在的；本质的、实质性的；独立的；n.实词，实名词；独立存在的实体 | |
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97
dame
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| n.女士 | |
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98
comely
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| adj.漂亮的，合宜的 | |
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99
rosy
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| adj.美好的，乐观的，玫瑰色的 | |
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100
hues
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| 色彩( hue的名词复数 )； 色调； 信仰； 观点 | |
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101
trifling
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| adj.微不足道的；没什么价值的 | |
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102
bustling
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| adj.喧闹的 | |
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103
entreaties
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| n.恳求，乞求( entreaty的名词复数 ) | |
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104
dissuaded
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| 劝（某人）勿做某事，劝阻( dissuade的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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105
extorted
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| v.敲诈( extort的过去式和过去分词 )；曲解 | |
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106
slippers
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| n. 拖鞋 | |
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107
digestion
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| n.消化，吸收 | |
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108
conviviality
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| n.欢宴，高兴，欢乐 | |
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109
sufficiently
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| adv.足够地，充分地 | |
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110
reiterated
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| 反复地说，重申( reiterate的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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111
eyebrow
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| n.眉毛，眉 | |
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112
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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113
equanimity
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| n.沉着，镇定 | |
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114
shuddering
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| v.战栗( shudder的现在分词 )；发抖；（机器、车辆等）突然震动；颤动 | |
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115
immortal
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| adj.不朽的；永生的，不死的；神的 | |
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116
jovial
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| adj.快乐的，好交际的 | |
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117
recapitulate
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| v.节述要旨，择要说明 | |
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118
torpid
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| adj.麻痹的，麻木的，迟钝的 | |
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119
recapitulated
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| v.总结，扼要重述( recapitulate的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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120
covert
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| adj.隐藏的；暗地里的 | |
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121
clump
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| n.树丛，草丛；vi.用沉重的脚步行走 | |
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122
hospitable
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| adj.好客的；宽容的；有利的，适宜的 | |
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123
mortification
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| n.耻辱，屈辱 | |
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124
repent
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| v.悔悟，悔改，忏悔，后悔 | |
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125
unwillingness
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| n. 不愿意，不情愿 | |
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126
grooms
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| n.新郎( groom的名词复数 )；马夫v.照料或梳洗（马等）( groom的第三人称单数 )；使做好准备；训练；（给动物）擦洗 | |
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127
hacks
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| 黑客 | |
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128
inflamed
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| adj.发炎的，红肿的v.（使）变红，发怒，过热( inflame的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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129
countenance
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| n.脸色，面容；面部表情；vt.支持，赞同 | |
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130
applied
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| adj.应用的；v.应用，适用 | |
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131
ribs
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| n.肋骨( rib的名词复数 )；（船或屋顶等的）肋拱；肋骨状的东西；（织物的）凸条花纹 | |
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132
crouched
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| v.屈膝，蹲伏( crouch的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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133
scanty
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| adj.缺乏的，仅有的，节省的，狭小的，不够的 | |
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134
devoutly
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| adv.虔诚地，虔敬地，衷心地 | |
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135
plight
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| n.困境，境况，誓约，艰难；vt.宣誓，保证，约定 | |
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136
substantiate
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| v.证实；证明...有根据 | |
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137
alibi
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| n.某人当时不在犯罪现场的申辩或证明；借口 | |
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138
secrecy
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| n.秘密，保密，隐蔽 | |
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139
abstaining
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| 戒（尤指酒），戒除( abstain的现在分词 )； 弃权（不投票） | |
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