Sometimes Marthe, full of tender emotion, a gentle languor4 that made her words fall slowly from her lips, would check her speech as she caught sight of the golden train of some shooting star, and smile as she threw back her head a little and looked up at the heavens.
'There's another soul leaving purgatory5 and entering paradise!' she murmured, while, as the priest kept silent, she added: 'How pretty they are, those little beliefs! One ought to be able to remain a little girl, your reverence7.'
She no longer now mended the family linen8 in the evening. She would have had to light a lamp on the terrace to see to do it, and she preferred the gloom of the warm night, which seemed to thrill her with peaceful happiness. Besides, she now went out every day, which fatigued9 her, and when dinner was over she had not energy enough to take up her needle. Rose had been obliged to undertake the mending, as Mouret was beginning to complain that his socks were all in holes.
To tell the truth Marthe was really very much occupied. Besides the committee meetings over which she presided, she had numerous other things to attend to, visits to make, and[Pg 96] superintendence duties to exercise. She deputed much necessary writing and other little matters to Madame Paloque; but she was so eager to see the Home actually established, that she went off to the Faubourg, where the building stood, three times a week, to make sure that the workmen were not wasting their time. Whenever she thought that satisfactory progress was not being made, she hurried to Saint-Saturnin's to find the architect, and grumbled10 to him and begged him not to leave the men without his supervision11, growing quite jealous, indeed, of the work which was being executed in the church, and saying that the chapel12 repairs were being much too quickly pushed forward. Monsieur Lieutaud smiled at all this, and assured her that everything would be completed within the stipulated13 time. But Abbé Faujas likewise protested that sufficient progress was not being made, and urged Marthe to give the architect no peace, so she ended by going to Saint-Saturnin's every day.
She went thither14 with her brain full of figures, or absorbed in thinking of walls that had to be pulled down and rebuilt. The chilliness15 of the church cooled her excitement a little. She dipped her fingers in the holy water and crossed herself, by way of doing as others did. The vergers grew to know her and bow to her, and she herself became quite familiar with the different chapels16 and the sacristy, whither she sometimes had to go in search of Abbé Faujas, and the wide corridor and low cloisters17 through which she had to pass. At the end of a month there was not a corner in Saint-Saturnin's which she did not know. Sometimes she had to wait for the architect, and then she would sit down in some retired18 chapel and rest after her hurried walk, recapitulating19 in her mind the host of things which she wanted to impress upon Monsieur Lieutaud. The deep, palpitating silence which surrounded her, and the dim religious light falling from the stained-glass windows, gradually plunged20 her into a vague, soft reverie. She began to love the lofty arches and the solemn bareness of the walls, the altars draped in protecting covers, and the chairs all arranged in order. As soon, indeed, as the padded doors swung to behind her, she began to experience a feeling of supreme21 restfulness, she forgot all the weary cares of the world, and perfect peace permeated22 her being.
'Saint-Saturnin's is such a pleasant place,' she said in an unguarded moment one evening before her husband, after a close, sultry day.
[Pg 97]
'Would you like us to go and sleep there?' Mouret asked, with a laugh.
Marthe felt hurt. The feeling of purely23 physical happiness which she experienced in the church began to distress24 her as being something wrong; and it was with a slight feeling of trouble that she thenceforward entered Saint-Saturnin's, trying to force herself to remain indifferent and uninfluenced by her surroundings, just as she would have been in the big rooms at the town hall. But in spite of herself she was deeply, distressfully affected26. It was, however, a distress to which she willingly returned.
Abbé Faujas manifested no consciousness of the slow awakening27 which every day went on within her. He still retained with her the demeanour of a busy, obliging man, putting heaven on one side. He never showed anything of the priest. Sometimes, however, she would disturb him as he was going to read the burial office; and he would then speak to her for a moment between a couple of pillars in his surplice which exhaled29 a vague odour of incense30 and wax tapers31. It was frequently a mere32 bricklayer's bill or some carpenter's claim that they spoke33 about, and the priest would just tell her the exact figures and then hurry away to attend to the funeral; she remaining there, lingering in the empty nave34, while one of the vergers was extinguishing the candles. As Faujas, when he crossed the church with her, bowed before the high altar, she had acquired the habit of doing likewise, at first out of a feeling of mere propriety35. But afterwards the action had become mechanical, and she now bowed when she was quite alone. Hitherto this act of reverence had been her only sign of devotion. Two or three times she had come to the church on days of high ceremonial of which she had not previously36 been aware: but when she saw the church was full of worshippers and heard the pealing37 of the organ, she hurried off, thrilled with sudden fear and not daring to cross the threshold.
'Well!' Mouret would frequently ask her with his sniggering laugh, 'when do you mean to take your first communion?'
He was perpetually teasing her, but she never replied, simply fixing upon him the gaze of her eyes, in which a passing brightness glistened38 when he went too far. By degrees he became more bitter, he was tired of mocking at her; and at the end of a month he quite lost his temper.
[Pg 98]
'What sense is there in going and mixing yourself up with a lot of priests?' he would growl39 at times when his dinner was not ready when he wanted it. 'You are always away from home now, there's no keeping you in the house for an hour at a time! I shouldn't mind it myself, if everything weren't going to pieces here. I never get any of my things mended, the table is not even laid by seven o'clock, there's no making anything out of Rose, and the whole place is left to rack and ruin.'
He picked up a house-cloth that was lying about, locked up a bottle of wine that had been left out, and began to wipe the dust off the furniture with his fingers, working himself up to a higher pitch of anger as he cried: 'There'll soon be nothing left for me to do but to take up a broom and put an apron40 on! You would see me do it without disturbing yourself, I know! I might do all the work of the house without your being any the wiser for it indeed! Do you know that I spent a couple of hours this morning in putting this cupboard in order? No, no, things can't go on any longer in this way!'
At other times there was a disturbance41 about the children. Once when Mouret came home he found Désirée 'wallowing like a young pig' in the garden, lying on her stomach before an ant-hole, and trying to find out what the ants might be doing in the ground.
'We may be very thankful, I'm sure, that you don't sleep away from the house as well!' he cried as soon as he caught sight of his wife. 'Come and look at your daughter! I wouldn't let her change her dress because I wished that you might see what a pretty sight she is.'
The girl cried bitterly while her father kept turning her round.
'Look at her now! Isn't she a nice spectacle? This is the way children go on when they are left to themselves! It isn't her fault, poor little innocent! At one time you couldn't leave her alone for five minutes: she would be getting into the fire, you said! Well, I expect she will be getting into the fire now, and everything will be burnt up, and then there'll be an end of it all!'
When Rose had taken Désirée away, he continued: 'You live now simply for other people's children. You don't give a moment to your own! What a goose you must be to go knocking yourself up for a parcel of hussies who only[Pg 99] laugh at you! Go and walk about the ramparts any evening and you will see something of the conduct of those impudent42 creatures whom you talk of putting under the protection of the Virgin!'
He stopped to take breath and then went on again:
'At all events see that Désirée is properly taken care of before you go picking up girls from the gutter43! There are holes as big as my fist in her dress. One of these days we shall be finding her in the garden with a leg or an arm broken. I don't say anything about Octave or Serge, though I should much prefer your being at home when they come back from college. They are up to all kinds of diabolical44 tricks. Only yesterday they split a couple of flag-stones on the terrace by letting off crackers45. I tell you that if you don't keep yourself at home we shall find the whole house blown to bits one of these days!'
Marthe said a few words in self-defence. She had been obliged to go out, she urged. There was no doubt that Mouret, who possessed46 an ample fund of common sense, in spite of his proclivities47 for teasing and jeering48, was right. The house was getting into a most unsatisfactory state. That once quiet spot indeed, where the sun had set so peacefully, was becoming uproarious, left to look after itself, suffering from the children's noisiness, the father's bursts of temper, and the mother's careless, indifferent lassitude. In the evening, at table, they dined badly and quarrelled amongst themselves. Rose did just what she liked, and she, by the way, was of opinion that her mistress was quite in the right.
Matters came to such a pass at last that Mouret, happening to meet his mother-in-law, complained to her bitterly of Marthe's conduct, although he was quite aware of the pleasure he afforded the old lady by revealing to her the troubles of his home.
'You astonish me extremely!' Félicité replied with a smile. 'Marthe always seemed to me to be afraid of you, and I considered her even too yielding and obedient. A woman ought not to tremble before her husband.'
'Ah, yes, indeed!' cried Mouret, with a hopeless look, 'once upon a time she would have sunk into the ground to avoid a quarrel; a mere glance was sufficient to make her do everything I desired. But that's all quite altered now. I may remonstrate49 and shout as much as I like, she still goes her own way. She doesn't reply, she hasn't as yet got to[Pg 100] flying out at me, but that will come as well, I dare say, by-and-by.'
Félicité then answered with some hypocrisy50:
'I will speak to Marthe if you like. But it might, perhaps, hurt her if I did. Matters of this kind are better kept between husband and wife. I don't feel very uneasy about them; I've no doubt that you'll soon get back again all the quiet peacefulness which you used to be so proud of.'
Mouret shook his head with downcast eyes.
'No! no!' he said; 'I know myself too well. I can make a noise, but it does no good. In reality I am as weak as a child. People are quite wrong in supposing that I gained my own way with my wife by force. She has generally done what I wanted her to do, because she was quite indifferent about everything, and would as soon do one thing as another. Mild as she looks, she is very obstinate51, I can tell you. Well, I must try to make the best of it.'
Then, raising his eyes, he added:
'It would have been better if I had said nothing about all this to you; but you won't mention it to anyone, will you?'
When Marthe went to see her mother the next day, the latter received her with some show of coldness, and exclaimed:
'It is wrong of you, my dear, to show yourself so neglectful of your husband. I saw him yesterday and he is quite angry about it. I am well aware that he often behaves in a very ridiculous manner, but that does not justify52 you in neglecting your home.'
Marthe fixed53 her eyes upon her mother.
'Ah! he has been complaining about me!' she said curtly54. 'The least he could do would be to keep silent, for I never complain about him.'
Then she began to talk of other matters, but Madame Rougon brought her back to the subject of her husband by inquiring after Abbé Faujas.
'Perhaps Mouret isn't very fond of the Abbé, and finds fault with you in consequence. Is that the case, do you think?'
Marthe showed great surprise.
'What an idea!' she exclaimed. 'What makes you think that my husband does not like Abbé Faujas? He has certainly never said anything to me which would lead me to imagine such a thing. He hasn't said anything to you, has[Pg 101] he? Oh no! you are quite mistaken. He would go up to their rooms to fetch them if the mother didn't come down to have her game of cards with him.'
Mouret, indeed, never complained in any way about Abbé Faujas. He joked with him a little bluntly sometimes, and occasionally brought his name into the teasing banter55 with which he tormented56 his wife, but that was all.
One morning, as he was shaving, he said to Marthe:
'I'll tell you what, my dear; if ever you go to confession57, take the Abbé for your director, and then your sins will, at any rate, be kept amongst ourselves.'
Abbé Faujas heard confessions58 on Tuesdays and Fridays, on which days Marthe used to avoid going to Saint-Saturnin's. She alleged59 that she did not want to disturb him; but she was really under the influence of that timid uneasiness which disquieted60 her whenever she saw him in his surplice redolent of the mysterious odours of the sacristy. One Friday, she went with Madame de Condamin to see how the works at the Home of the Virgin were getting on. The men were just finishing the frontage. Madame de Condamin found fault with the ornamentation, which, said she, was extremely mean and characterless. At the entrance there ought to have been two slender columns with a pointed61 arch, something at once light and suggestive of religion, something that would be a credit to the committee of lady patronesses. Marthe hesitated for a time, but she gradually admitted that the place looked very mean as it was. Then as the other pressed her, she promised to speak to Monsieur Lieutaud on the subject that very day. In order that she might keep her promise, she went to the cathedral before returning home. It was four o'clock when she got there, and the architect had just left. When she asked for Abbé Faujas, a verger told her that he was confessing in the chapel of Saint Aurelia. Then for the first time she recollected62 what day it was, and replied that she could not wait. But as she passed the chapel of Saint Aurelia on her way out, she thought that the Abbé might, perhaps, have already caught sight of her. The truth was that she felt singularly faint, and so she sat down outside the chapel, near the railing. And there she remained.
The sky was grey, and the church was steeped in twilight63. Here and there in the aisles64, already shrouded65 in darkness, gleamed a lamp, or some gilt66 candelabrum, or some Virgin's silver robe; and a pale ray filtered through the great nave[Pg 102] and died away on the polished oak of the stalls and benches. Marthe had never before felt so completely overcome. Her legs seemed to have lost all their strength, and her hands were so heavy that she clasped them across her knees to save herself from having to support their weight. She allowed herself to drift into drowsiness67, in which she still continued to hear and see, but in a very soft subdued68 fashion. The slight sounds wafted69 along beneath the vaulted70 roof, the falling of a chair, the slow step of some worshipper, all filled her with emotion, assumed a musical tone which thrilled her to the heart; while the last glimmers71 of daylight and the dusky shadows that crept up the pillars like covers of crape, assumed in her eyes all the delicate tints72 of shot silk. She gradually fell into a state of exquisite73 languor, in which she seemed to melt away and die. Everything around her then vanished, and she was thrilled with perfect happiness in her strange, trance-like condition.
The sound of a voice awoke her from this state of ecstasy74.
'I am very sorry,' said Abbé Faujas; 'I saw you, but I could not get away.'
She then appeared to wake up with a start. She looked at him. He was standing75 before her in the dying light, in his surplice. His last penitent76 had just left, and the empty church seemed to be growing still more solemn.
'You want to speak to me?' he asked.
Marthe made an effort to recall her thoughts.
'Yes,' she murmured; 'but I can't remember now. Ah yes! it is about the frontage, which Madame de Condamin thinks too mean. There ought to be two columns instead of that characterless flat door. And up above one might put a pointed arch filled with stained glass. It would look very pretty. You understand what I mean, don't you?'
He gazed at her very gravely with his hands crossed over his surplice, and his head inclined towards her; and she, still seated, without strength to rise to her feet, went on stammering77 confusedly, as though she had been taken unawares in a sleep which she could not shake off.
'It would entail79 additional expense, of course; but we might have columns of soft stone with a very simple moulding. We might speak about it to the master mason, and he will tell us how much it would cost. But we had better pay him his last account first. It is two thousand one hundred and odd francs, I think. We have the money in hand; Madame[Pg 103] Paloque told me so this morning. There will be no difficulty about that, Monsieur l'Abbé.'
She lowered her head, as though she felt oppressed by the gaze that was bent80 upon her. When she raised it again and met the priest's eyes, she clasped her hands together, after the manner of a child seeking forgiveness, and she burst into sobs81. The priest allowed her to weep, still standing in silence in front of her. Then she fell on her knees before him, weeping behind her hands, with which she covered her face.
'Get up, I pray you,' said Abbé Faujas gently. 'It is before God that you should go and kneel.'
He helped her to rise and he sat down beside her. They talked together for a long time in low tones. The night had now fully25 fallen, and the lamps set golden specks82 gleaming through the black depths of the church. The murmur6 of their voices alone disturbed the silence in front of the chapel of Saint Aurelia. From the priest streamed a flood of words after each of Marthe's weak broken answers. When at last they rose, he seemed to be refusing her some favour which she was seeking with persistence83. And leading her towards the door, he raised his voice as he said:
'No! I cannot, I assure you I cannot. It would be better for you to take Abbé Bourrette.'
'I am in great need of your advice,' Marthe murmured, beseechingly84. 'I think that with your help everything would be easy to me.'
'You are mistaken,' he replied, in a sterner voice. 'On the contrary, I fear that my direction would be prejudicial to you to begin with. Abbé Bourrette is the priest you want, I assure you. Later on, I may perhaps give you a different reply.'
Marthe obeyed the priest's injunctions, and on the morrow the worshippers at Saint-Saturnin's were surprised to see Madame Mouret kneel before Abbé Bourrette's confessional. Two days later nothing but this conversion85 was spoken of in Plassans. Abbé Faujas's name was pronounced with subtle smiles by certain people, but on the whole the impression was a good one and in favour of the Abbé. Madame Rastoil complimented Madame Mouret in full committee, and Madame Delangre professed86 to see in the matter a first blessing87 vouchsafed88 by God who rewarded the lady patronesses for their good work by touching89 the heart of the only one amongst them who had not conformed with the requirements[Pg 104] of religion. Madame de Condamin, taking Marthe aside, said to her:
'You have done right, my dear. What you have done is a necessity for a woman; and, besides, as soon as one begins to go about a little, it is necessary to go to church.'
The only matter of astonishment90 was her choice of Abbé Bourrette. That worthy91 man almost entirely92 confined himself to hearing the confessions of young girls. The ladies found him 'so very uninteresting.' On the Thursday at the Rougons' reception, before Marthe's arrival, the matter was talked over in a corner of the green drawing-room, and it was Madame Paloque with her waspish tongue who summed up the matter.
'Abbé Faujas has done quite right in not keeping her himself,' said she, with a twist of her mouth that made her still more hideous93 than usual; 'Abbé Bourrette is very successful in saving souls and appearances also.'
When Marthe came that evening her mother stepped forward to welcome her, and kissed her affectionately with some ostentation94 before the company. She herself had made her peace with God on the morrow of the Coup28 d'état. She was of opinion that Abbé Faujas might now venture to return to the green drawing-room; but he excused himself, making a pretext95 of his work and his love of privacy. Madame Rougon then fancied that he was planning a triumphal return for the following winter. The Abbé's success was certainly on the increase. For the first few months his only penitents96 had come from the vegetable-market held behind the cathedral, poor hawkers, to whose dialect he had quietly listened without always being able to understand it; but now, especially since all the talk there had been in connection with the Home of the Virgin, he had a crowd of well-to-do citizens' wives and daughters dressed in silk kneeling before his confessional-box. When Marthe quietly mentioned that he would not receive her amongst his penitents, Madame de Condamin was seized with a sudden whim97, and deserted98 her director, the senior curate of Saint-Saturnin's, who was greatly distressed99 thereby100, to transfer the guardianship101 of her soul to Abbé Faujas. Such a distinction as this gave the latter a firm position in Plassans society.
When Mouret learned that his wife now went to confession, he merely said to her:
[Pg 105]
'You have been doing something wrong lately, I suppose, since you find it necessary to go and tell all your affairs to a parson?'
In the midst of all this pious102 excitement he seemed to isolate103 himself and shut himself up in his own narrow and monotonous104 life still further. When his wife reproached him for complaining to her mother, he answered:
'Yes, you are right; it was wrong of me. It is foolish to give people any pleasure by telling them of one's troubles. However, I promise you that I won't give your mother this satisfaction a second time. I have been thinking matters over, and the house may topple down on our heads before I'll go whimpering to anyone again.'
From that time he never made any disparaging105 remarks about the management of the house or scolded his wife in the presence of strangers, but professed himself, as formerly106, the happiest of men. This effort of sound sense cost him little, for he saw that it would tend to his comfort, which was the object of his constant thoughts. He even exaggerated his assumption of the part of a contented107 methodical citizen who took pleasure in living. Marthe only became aware of his impatience108 by his restless pacing up and down. For whole weeks he refrained from teasing or fault-finding as far as she was concerned, while upon Rose and his children he constantly poured forth109 his jeers110, scolding them too from morning till night for the slightest shortcomings.
Previously he had only been economical, now he became miserly.
'There is no sense in spending money in the way we are doing,' he grumbled to Marthe. 'I'll be bound you are giving it all to those young hussies of yours. But it's quite sufficient for you to waste your time over them. Listen to me, my dear. I will give you a hundred francs a month for housekeeping, and if you will persist in giving money to girls who don't deserve it, you must save it out of your dress allowance.'
He kept firmly to his word, and the very next month he refused to let Marthe buy a pair of boots on the pretext that it would disarrange his accounts, and that he had given her full notice and warning. One evening his wife found him weeping bitterly in their bedroom. All her kindness of heart was aroused, and she clasped him in her arms and besought111 him to tell her what distressed him. But he roughly tore himself away from her and told her that he was not crying at[Pg 106] all, but simply had a bad headache. It was that, said he, which made his eyes red.
'Do you think,' he exclaimed, 'that I am such a simpleton as you are to cry?'
She felt much hurt. The next day Mouret affected great gaiety; but some days afterwards, when Abbé Faujas and his mother came downstairs after dinner, he refused to play his usual game of piquet. He did not feel clear-headed enough for it, he said. On the next few nights he made other excuses, and so the games were broken off, and everyone went out on the terrace. Mouret seated himself in front of his wife and the Abbé, doing all he could to speak as much and as frequently as possible; while Madame Faujas sat a few yards away in the gloom, quite silent and still, with her hands upon her knees, like one of those legendary112 figures keeping guard over a treasure with the stern fidelity113 of a crouching114 dog.
'Fine evening!' Mouret used to say every night. 'It is much pleasanter here than in the dining-room. It is very wise of you to come out and enjoy the fresh air. Ah! there's a shooting-star! Did your reverence see it? I've heard say that it's Saint Peter lighting115 his pipe up yonder.'
He laughed, but Marthe kept quite grave, vexed116 by his attempts at pleasantry, which spoilt her enjoyment117 of the expanse of sky that spread between Monsieur Rastoil's pear-trees and the chestnuts of the Sub-Prefecture. Sometimes he would pretend to be unaware78 that she conformed with the requirements of religion, and he would take the Abbé aside and tell him that he relied on him to effect the salvation118 of the whole house. At other times he could never begin a sentence without saying in a bantering119 tone, 'Now that my wife goes to confession—' Then having grown tired of this subject, he began to listen to what was being said in the neighbouring gardens, trying to catch the faint sounds of voices which rose in the calm night air, as the distant noises of Plassans were hushed.
'Ah! those are the voices of Monsieur de Condamin and Doctor Porquier!' he said, straining his ear towards the Sub-Prefecture. 'They are making fun of the Paloques. Did you hear Monsieur Delangre saying in his falsetto, "Ladies, you had better come in, the air is growing cool"? Don't you think that little Delangre always talks as though he had swallowed a reed-pipe?'
Then he turned his head towards the Rastoils' garden.
[Pg 107]
'They haven't anyone there to-night,' he said; 'I can't hear anything. Ah, yes! those big geese the daughters are by the waterfall. The elder one talks just as though she were gobbling pebbles120. Every evening they sit there jabbering121 for a good hour. They can't want all that time to tell each other about the matrimonial offers they have had. Ah! they are all there! There's Abbé Surin, with a voice like a flute122; and Abbé Fenil, who would do for a rattle123 on Good Friday. There are sometimes a score of them huddled124 together, without stirring a finger, in that garden. I believe they all go there to listen to what we say.'
While he went chattering125 on in this manner Abbé Faujas and Marthe merely spoke a few words, chiefly in reply to his questions. Generally they sat apart from him with their faces raised to the sky and their eyes gazing into space. One evening Mouret fell asleep. Then, inclining their heads towards each other, they began to talk in subdued tones; while some few yards away, Madame Faujas, with her hands upon her knees, her eyes wide open and her ears on the strain, yet never seeing or hearing anything, seemed to be keeping watch for them.
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1
virgin
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| n.处女，未婚女子；adj.未经使用的；未经开发的 | |
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chestnuts
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| n.栗子( chestnut的名词复数 )；栗色；栗树；栗色马 | |
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altercations
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| n.争辩，争吵( altercation的名词复数 ) | |
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languor
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| n.无精力，倦怠 | |
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purgatory
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| n.炼狱；苦难；adj.净化的，清洗的 | |
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6
murmur
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| n.低语，低声的怨言；v.低语，低声而言 | |
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reverence
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| n.敬畏，尊敬，尊严；Reverence:对某些基督教神职人员的尊称；v.尊敬，敬畏，崇敬 | |
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linen
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| n.亚麻布，亚麻线，亚麻制品；adj.亚麻布制的，亚麻的 | |
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fatigued
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| adj. 疲乏的 | |
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grumbled
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| 抱怨( grumble的过去式和过去分词 )； 发牢骚； 咕哝； 发哼声 | |
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supervision
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| n.监督，管理 | |
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chapel
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| n.小教堂，殡仪馆 | |
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stipulated
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| vt.& vi.规定；约定adj.[法]合同规定的 | |
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thither
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| adv.向那里；adj.在那边的，对岸的 | |
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chilliness
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| n.寒冷，寒意，严寒 | |
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chapels
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| n.小教堂， （医院、监狱等的）附属礼拜堂( chapel的名词复数 )；（在小教堂和附属礼拜堂举行的）礼拜仪式 | |
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cloisters
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| n.（学院、修道院、教堂等建筑的）走廊( cloister的名词复数 )；回廊；修道院的生活；隐居v.隐退，使与世隔绝( cloister的第三人称单数 ) | |
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retired
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| adj.隐退的，退休的，退役的 | |
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recapitulating
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| v.总结，扼要重述( recapitulate的现在分词 ) | |
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plunged
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| v.颠簸( plunge的过去式和过去分词 )；暴跌；骤降；突降 | |
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supreme
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| adj.极度的，最重要的；至高的，最高的 | |
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permeated
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| 弥漫( permeate的过去式和过去分词 )； 遍布； 渗入； 渗透 | |
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purely
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| adv.纯粹地，完全地 | |
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24
distress
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| n.苦恼，痛苦，不舒适；不幸；vt.使悲痛 | |
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fully
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| adv.完全地，全部地，彻底地；充分地 | |
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affected
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| adj.不自然的，假装的 | |
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awakening
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| n.觉醒，醒悟 adj.觉醒中的；唤醒的 | |
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coup
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| n.政变；突然而成功的行动 | |
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exhaled
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| v.呼出，发散出( exhale的过去式和过去分词 )；吐出（肺中的空气、烟等），呼气 | |
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30
incense
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| v.激怒；n.香，焚香时的烟，香气 | |
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tapers
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| （长形物体的）逐渐变窄( taper的名词复数 )； 微弱的光； 极细的蜡烛 | |
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mere
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| adj.纯粹的；仅仅，只不过 | |
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33
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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34
nave
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| n.教堂的中部；本堂 | |
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35
propriety
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| n.正当行为；正当；适当 | |
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previously
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| adv.以前，先前（地） | |
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37
pealing
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| v.（使）（钟等）鸣响，（雷等）发出隆隆声( peal的现在分词 ) | |
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38
glistened
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| v.湿物闪耀，闪亮( glisten的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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growl
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| v.（狗等）嗥叫，（炮等）轰鸣；n.嗥叫，轰鸣 | |
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40
apron
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| n.围裙；工作裙 | |
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41
disturbance
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| n.动乱，骚动；打扰，干扰；(身心)失调 | |
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impudent
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| adj.鲁莽的，卑鄙的，厚颜无耻的 | |
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43
gutter
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| n.沟，街沟，水槽，檐槽，贫民窟 | |
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diabolical
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| adj.恶魔似的，凶暴的 | |
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crackers
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| adj.精神错乱的，癫狂的n.爆竹( cracker的名词复数 )；薄脆饼干；（认为）十分愉快的事；迷人的姑娘 | |
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possessed
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| adj.疯狂的；拥有的，占有的 | |
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proclivities
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| n.倾向，癖性( proclivity的名词复数 ) | |
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48
jeering
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| adj.嘲弄的，揶揄的v.嘲笑( jeer的现在分词 ) | |
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49
remonstrate
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| v.抗议，规劝 | |
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50
hypocrisy
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| n.伪善，虚伪 | |
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51
obstinate
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| adj.顽固的，倔强的，不易屈服的，较难治愈的 | |
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52
justify
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| vt.证明…正当(或有理)，为…辩护 | |
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53
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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54
curtly
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| adv.简短地 | |
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55
banter
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| n.嘲弄，戏谑；v.取笑，逗弄，开玩笑 | |
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56
tormented
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| 饱受折磨的 | |
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57
confession
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| n.自白，供认，承认 | |
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58
confessions
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| n.承认( confession的名词复数 )；自首；声明；（向神父的）忏悔 | |
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alleged
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| a.被指控的，嫌疑的 | |
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60
disquieted
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| v.使不安，使忧虑，使烦恼( disquiet的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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pointed
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| adj.尖的，直截了当的 | |
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recollected
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| adj.冷静的；镇定的；被回忆起的；沉思默想的v.记起，想起( recollect的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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63
twilight
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| n.暮光，黄昏；暮年，晚期，衰落时期 | |
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aisles
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| n. (席位间的)通道, 侧廊 | |
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65
shrouded
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| v.隐瞒( shroud的过去式和过去分词 )；保密 | |
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66
gilt
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| adj.镀金的；n.金边证券 | |
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67
drowsiness
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| n.睡意；嗜睡 | |
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68
subdued
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| adj. 屈服的，柔和的，减弱的 动词subdue的过去式和过去分词 | |
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69
wafted
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| v.吹送，飘送，（使）浮动( waft的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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vaulted
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| adj.拱状的 | |
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71
glimmers
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| n.微光，闪光( glimmer的名词复数 )v.发闪光，发微光( glimmer的第三人称单数 ) | |
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72
tints
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| 色彩( tint的名词复数 )； 带白的颜色； （淡色）染发剂； 痕迹 | |
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73
exquisite
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| adj.精美的；敏锐的；剧烈的，感觉强烈的 | |
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74
ecstasy
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| n.狂喜，心醉神怡，入迷 | |
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75
standing
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| n.持续，地位；adj.永久的，不动的，直立的，不流动的 | |
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76
penitent
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| adj.后悔的；n.后悔者；忏悔者 | |
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77
stammering
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| v.结巴地说出( stammer的现在分词 ) | |
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78
unaware
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| a.不知道的，未意识到的 | |
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79
entail
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| vt.使承担，使成为必要，需要 | |
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80
bent
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| n.爱好，癖好；adj.弯的；决心的，一心的 | |
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81
sobs
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| 啜泣（声），呜咽（声）( sob的名词复数 ) | |
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82
specks
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| n.眼镜；斑点，微粒，污点( speck的名词复数 ) | |
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83
persistence
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| n.坚持，持续，存留 | |
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84
beseechingly
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| adv. 恳求地 | |
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85
conversion
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| n.转化，转换，转变 | |
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86
professed
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| 公开声称的，伪称的，已立誓信教的 | |
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87
blessing
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| n.祈神赐福；祷告；祝福，祝愿 | |
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88
vouchsafed
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| v.给予，赐予( vouchsafe的过去式和过去分词 )；允诺 | |
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89
touching
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| adj.动人的，使人感伤的 | |
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90
astonishment
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| n.惊奇，惊异 | |
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91
worthy
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| adj.(of)值得的，配得上的；有价值的 | |
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92
entirely
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| ad.全部地，完整地；完全地，彻底地 | |
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93
hideous
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| adj.丑陋的，可憎的，可怕的，恐怖的 | |
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94
ostentation
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| n.夸耀，卖弄 | |
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95
pretext
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| n.借口，托词 | |
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96
penitents
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| n.后悔者( penitent的名词复数 )；忏悔者 | |
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97
whim
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| n.一时的兴致，突然的念头；奇想，幻想 | |
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98
deserted
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| adj.荒芜的，荒废的，无人的，被遗弃的 | |
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99
distressed
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| 痛苦的 | |
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100
thereby
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| adv.因此，从而 | |
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101
guardianship
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| n. 监护, 保护, 守护 | |
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102
pious
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| adj.虔诚的；道貌岸然的 | |
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103
isolate
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| vt.使孤立，隔离 | |
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104
monotonous
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| adj.单调的，一成不变的，使人厌倦的 | |
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105
disparaging
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| adj.轻蔑的，毁谤的v.轻视( disparage的现在分词 )；贬低；批评；非难 | |
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106
formerly
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| adv.从前，以前 | |
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107
contented
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| adj.满意的，安心的，知足的 | |
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108
impatience
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| n.不耐烦，急躁 | |
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109
forth
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| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
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110
jeers
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| n.操纵帆桁下部（使其上下的）索具；嘲讽( jeer的名词复数 )v.嘲笑( jeer的第三人称单数 ) | |
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111
besought
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| v.恳求，乞求（某事物）( beseech的过去式和过去分词 )；(beseech的过去式与过去分词) | |
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112
legendary
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| adj.传奇（中）的，闻名遐迩的；n.传奇（文学） | |
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113
fidelity
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| n.忠诚，忠实；精确 | |
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114
crouching
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| v.屈膝，蹲伏( crouch的现在分词 ) | |
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115
lighting
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| n.照明，光线的明暗，舞台灯光 | |
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116
vexed
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| adj.争论不休的；（指问题等）棘手的；争论不休的问题；烦恼的v.使烦恼( vex的过去式和过去分词 )；使苦恼；使生气；详细讨论 | |
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117
enjoyment
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| n.乐趣；享有；享用 | |
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118
salvation
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| n.（尤指基督）救世，超度，拯救，解困 | |
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119
bantering
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| adj.嘲弄的v.开玩笑，说笑，逗乐( banter的现在分词 )；（善意地）取笑，逗弄 | |
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120
pebbles
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| [复数]鹅卵石； 沙砾； 卵石，小圆石( pebble的名词复数 ) | |
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121
jabbering
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| v.急切而含混不清地说( jabber的现在分词 )；急促兴奋地说话；结结巴巴 | |
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122
flute
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| n.长笛；v.吹笛 | |
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123
rattle
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| v.飞奔，碰响；激怒；n.碰撞声；拨浪鼓 | |
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124
huddled
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| 挤在一起（huddle的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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125
chattering
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| 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 | |
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