'One has no privacy left,' he muttered. 'I can't lift my eyes now without catching5 sight of that cassock. He is like a crow, that fellow there, with his round eyes that always seem to be on the look-out for something. I don't believe in his fine disinterested6 airs.'
[Pg 108]
It was not till early in September that the Home of the Virgin7 was completed. In the provinces workmen are painfully slow; though it must be stated that the lady patronesses had twice upset Monsieur Lieutaud's designs in favour of ideas of their own. When the committee took possession of the building they rewarded the architect for the complaisance8 he had manifested by lavishing9 the highest praises upon him. Everything seemed to them perfectly10 satisfactory. The rooms were large, the communications were excellent, and there was a courtyard planted with trees and embellished11 with two small fountains. Madame de Condamin was particularly charmed with the fa?ade, which was one of her own ideas. Over the door, the words 'Home of the Virgin' were carved in gold letters on a slab12 of black marble.
On the occasion of the opening of the Home there was a very affecting ceremony. The Bishop13, attended by the Chapter, came in person to install the Sisters of Saint Joseph, who had been authorised to work the institution. A troop of some fifty girls of from eight to fifteen years of age had been collected together from the streets of the old quarter of the town, and all that had been required from the parents to obtain admission for their children had been a declaration that their avocations14 necessitated15 their absence from home during the entire day. Monsieur Delangre made a speech which was much applauded. He explained at considerable length, and in a magnificent style, the details and arrangements of this new refuge, which he called 'the school of virtue16 and labour, where young and interesting creatures would be kept safe from wicked temptations.' A delicate allusion17, towards the end of the speech, to the real promoter of the Home, Abbé Faujas, attracted much notice. The Abbé was present amongst the other priests, and his fine, grave face remained perfectly calm and tranquil18 when all eyes were turned upon him. Marthe blushed on the platform, where she was sitting in the midst of the lady patronesses.
When the ceremony was over, the Bishop expressed a desire to inspect the building in every detail; and, notwithstanding the evident annoyance20 of Abbé Fenil, he sent for Abbé Faujas, whose big black eyes had never for a moment quitted him, and requested him to be good enough to act as his guide, adding aloud with a smile, that he was sure he could not find a better one. This little speech was circulated amongst the departing spectators, and in the evening all[Pg 109] Plassans commented upon the Bishop's favourable21 demeanour towards Abbé Faujas.
The lady patronesses had reserved for themselves one of the rooms in the Home. Here they provided a collation22 for the Bishop, who ate a biscuit and drank two sips23 of Malaga, while saying a polite word or two to each of them. This brought the pious24 festival to a happy conclusion, for both before and during the ceremony there had been heart-burnings and rivalries25 among the ladies, whom the delicate praises of Monseigneur Rousselot quite restored to good humour. When they were left to themselves, they declared that everything had gone off exceedingly well, and they profusely26 praised the Bishop. Madame Paloque alone looked sour. The prelate had somehow forgotten her when he was distributing his compliments.
'You were quite right,' she said in a fury to her husband, when she got home again; 'I have just been made a convenience in that silly nonsense of theirs. It's a fine idea, indeed, to bring all those corrupt27 hussies together. I have given up all my time to them, and that big simpleton of a Bishop, who trembles before his own clergy28, can't even say thank you. Just as if that Madame de Condamin had done anything, indeed. She is far too much occupied in showing off her dresses! Ah! we know quite enough about her, don't we? The world will hear something about her one of these days that will surprise it a little! Thank goodness, we've nothing to conceal29. And that Madame Delangre and Madame Rastoil, too—well, it wouldn't be difficult to tell tales about them that would cover them with blushes! And they never stirred out of their drawing-rooms, they haven't taken half the trouble about the matter that I have! Then there's that Madame Mouret, with her pretence30 of managing the whole business, though she really did nothing but hang on to the cassock of her Abbé Faujas! She's another hypocrite of whom we shall hear some pretty things one of these days! And yet they could all get a polite speech, while there wasn't a word for me! I'm nothing but a mere31 convenience, they treat me like a dog! But things sha'n't go on like this, Paloque, I tell you. The dog will turn and bite them before long!'
From that time forward Madame Paloque showed herself much less accommodating. She became very irregular in her secretarial work, and declined to perform any duties that[Pg 110] she did not fancy, till at last the lady patronesses began to talk of employing a paid secretary. Marthe mentioned these worries to Abbé Faujas and asked him if he could recommend a suitable man.
'Don't trouble yourself to look for anyone,' he said, 'I dare say I can find you a fit person. Give me two or three days.'
For some time past he had been frequently receiving letters bearing the Besan?on postmark, They were all in the same handwriting, a large, ugly hand. Rose, who took them up to him, remarked that he seemed vexed32 at the mere sight of the envelopes.
'He looks quite put out,' she said. 'You may depend upon it that it's no great favourite of his who writes to him so often.'
Mouret's old curiosity was roused by this correspondence. One day he took up one of the letters himself with a pleasant smile, telling the Abbé, as an excuse for his own appearance, that Rose was not in the house. The Abbé probably saw through Mouret's cunning, for he assumed an expression of great pleasure, as though he had been impatiently expecting the letter. But Mouret did not allow himself to be deceived by this piece of acting33, he stayed outside the door on the landing and glued his ear to the key-hole.
'From your sister again, isn't it?' asked Madame Faujas, in her hard voice. 'Why does she worry you in that way?'
There was a short silence, after which came a sound of paper being roughly crumpled34, and the Abbé said, with evident displeasure:
'It's always the same old story. She wants to come to us and bring her husband with her, so that we may get him a situation somewhere. She seems to think that we are wallowing in gold. I'm afraid they will be doing something rash—perhaps taking us by surprise some fine morning.'
'No, no! we can't do with them here, Ovide!' his mother replied. 'They have never liked you; they have always been jealous of you. Trouche is a scamp and Olympe is quite heartless. They would want everything for themselves, and they would compromise you and interfere35 with your work.'
Mouret was too much excited by the meanness of the act he was committing to be able to hear well, and, besides, he thought that one of them was coming to the door, so he[Pg 111] hurried away. He took care not to mention what he had done. A few days later Abbé Faujas, in his presence, while they were all out on the terrace, gave Marthe a definite reply respecting the Secretaryship at the Home.
'I think I can recommend you a suitable person,' he said, in his calm way. 'It is a connection of my own, my brother-in-law, who is coming here from Besan?on in a few days.'
Mouret became very attentive36, while Marthe appeared delighted.
'Oh, that is excellent!' she exclaimed. 'I was feeling very much bothered about finding a suitable person. You see, with all those young girls, we must have a person of unexceptionable morality, but of course a connection of yours—'
'Yes, yes,' interrupted the priest; 'my sister had a little hosiery business at Besan?on, which she has been obliged to give up on account of her health; and now she is anxious to join us again, as the doctors have ordered her to live in the south. My mother is very much pleased.'
'I'm sure she must be,' said Marthe. 'I dare say it grieved you very much to have to separate, and you will be very glad to be together again. I'll tell you what you must do. There are a couple of rooms upstairs that you don't use; why shouldn't your sister and her husband have them? They have no children, have they?'
'No, there are only their two selves. I had, indeed, thought for a moment of giving them those two rooms; but I was afraid of displeasing37 you by bringing other people into your house.'
'Not at all, I assure you. You are very quiet people.'
She checked herself suddenly, for her husband was tugging38 at her dress. He did not want to have the Abbé's relations in the house, for he remembered in what terms Madame Faujas had spoken of her daughter and son-in-law.
'The rooms are very small,' he began; 'and Monsieur l'Abbé would be inconvenienced. It would be better for all parties that his sister should take lodgings40 somewhere else; there happen to be some rooms vacant just now at the Paloques' house, over the way.'
There was a dead pause in the conversation. The priest said nothing, but gazed up into the sky. Marthe thought he was offended, and she felt much distressed41 at her husband's bluntness. After a moment she could no longer endure the embarrassing silence. 'Well, it's settled then,' she said,[Pg 112] without any attempt at skill in knitting the broken threads of the conversation together again, 'Rose shall help your mother to clean the rooms. My husband was only thinking about your own personal convenience; but, of course, if you wish it, it is not for us to prevent you from disposing of the rooms in any way you like.'
Mouret was quite angry when he again found himself alone with his wife.
'I can't understand you at all!' he cried. 'When first I let the rooms to the Abbé, you were quite displeased43, and seemed to hate the thought of having even so much as a cat brought into the house; and now I believe you would be perfectly willing for the Abbé to bring the whole of his relations, down to his third and fourth cousins. Didn't you feel me tugging at your dress? You might have known that I didn't want those people. They are not very respectable folks.'
'How do you know that?' cried Marthe, annoyed by this accusation44. 'Who told you so?'
'Who, indeed? It was Abbé Faujas himself. I overheard him one day while he was talking to his mother.'
She looked at him keenly; and he blushed slightly beneath her gaze as he stammered45:
'Well, it is sufficient that I do know. The sister is a heartless creature and her husband is a scamp. It's of no use your putting on that air of insulted majesty46; those were their own words, and I'm inventing nothing. I don't want to have those people here, do you understand? The old lady herself was the first to object to her daughter coming here. The Abbé now seems to have changed his mind. I don't know what has led him to alter his opinion. It's some fresh mystery of his. He's going to make use of them somehow.'
Marthe shrugged47 her shoulders and allowed her husband to rail on. He told Rose not to clean the rooms, but Rose now only obeyed her mistress's orders. For five days his anger vented48 itself in bitter words and furious recriminations. In Abbé Faujas's presence he confined himself to sulking, for he did not dare to attack the priest openly. Then, as usual, he ended by submitting, and ceased to rail at the people who were coming. But he drew his purse-strings still tighter, isolated49 himself, shut himself up more and more in his own selfish existence. When the Trouches arrived one October evening, he merely exclaimed:
[Pg 113]
'The deuce! they don't look a nice couple. What faces they have!'
Abbé Faujas did not appear very desirous that his sister and brother-in-law should be seen on that occasion. His mother took up a position by the street-door, and as soon as she caught sight of them turning out of the Place of the Sub-Prefecture, she glanced uneasily behind her into the hall and the kitchen. Luck was, however, against her, for just as the Trouches arrived, Marthe, who was going out, came up from the garden, followed by her children.
'Ah! there you all are!' she said, with a pleasant smile.
Madame Faujas, who was generally so completely mistress of herself, could not suppress a slight show of confusion as she stammered a word or two of reply. For some moments they stood confronting and scrutinising each other in the hall. Mouret had hurriedly mounted the steps and Rose had taken up her position at the kitchen door.
'You must be very glad to be together again,' said Marthe, addressing Madame Faujas.
Then, noticing the feeling of embarrassment50 which was keeping them all silent, she turned towards Trouche and added:
'You arrived by the five o'clock train, I suppose? How long were you in getting here from Besan?on?'
'Seventeen hours in the train,' Trouche replied, opening a toothless mouth. 'It is no joke that, in a third-class carriage, I can tell you. One gets pretty well shaken up inside.'
Then he laughed with a peculiar51 clattering52 of his jaws53. Madame Faujas cast a very angry glance at him, and he began to fumble54 mechanically at his greasy55 overcoat, trying to fasten a button that was no longer there, and pressing to his thighs56 (doubtless in order to hide some stains) a couple of cardboard bonnet57-boxes which he was carrying, one green and the other yellow. His red throat was perpetually gurgling beneath a twisted, ragged58 black neckcloth, over which appeared the edge of a dirty shirt. In his wrinkled face, which seemed to reek59 with vice60, there glistened61 two little black eyes that rolled about incessantly62, examining everybody and everything with an expression of astonishment63 and covetousness64. They looked like the eyes of a thief studying a house to which he means to return in order to plunder65 it some night.
Mouret fancied that Trouche was examining the fastenings.
[Pg 114]
'That fellow,' he thought to himself, 'looks as though he were getting the patterns of the locks into his head!'
Olympe was conscious that her husband had made a vulgar remark. She was a tall, slight woman, fair and faded, with a flat plain face. She carried a little deal box and a big bundle tied up in a tablecloth66.
'We have brought some pillows with us,' she said, glancing at the bundle. 'Pillows come in very usefully in a third-class carriage; they make one quite as comfortable as if one were travelling first-class. It is a great saving, going third, and it is of no use throwing money away, is it?'
'Certainly not,' Marthe replied, somewhat surprised by the appearance and language of the new-comers.
Olympe now came forward and went on talking in an ingratiating way.
'It's the same thing with clothes,' said she; 'when I set off on a journey I put on my shabbiest things. I told Honoré that his old overcoat was quite good enough. And he has got his old work-day trousers on too, trousers that he's quite tired of wearing. You see I selected my worse dress; it is actually in holes, I believe. This shawl was mother's; I used to iron on it at home; and this bonnet I'm wearing is an old one that I only put on when I go to the wash-house; but it's quite good enough to get spoilt with the dust, isn't it, madame?'
'Certainly, certainly,' replied Marthe, trying to force a smile.
Just at this moment a stern voice was heard from the top of the stairs, calling sharply: 'Well! now, mother!'
Mouret raised his head and saw Abbé Faujas leaning against the second-floor banisters, looking very angry, and bending over, at the risk of falling, to get a better view of what was going on in the passage. He had heard a sound of talking and had been waiting there for a moment or two in great impatience67.
'Come, mother, come!' he cried again.
'Yes, yes, we are coming up,' answered Madame Faujas, trembling at the sound of her son's angry voice.
Then turning to the Trouches, she said:
'Come along, my children, we must go upstairs. Let us leave madame to attend to her business.'
But the Trouches did not seem to hear; they appeared quite satisfied to remain in the passage, and they looked about[Pg 115] them with a well-pleased air, as though the house had just been presented to them.
'It is very nice, very nice indeed, isn't it, Honoré?' Olympe said. 'After what Ovide wrote in his letters we scarcely expected to find it so nice as this, did we? But I told you that we ought to come here, and that we should do better here, and I am right, you see.'
'Yes, yes, we ought to be very comfortable here,' Trouche murmured. 'The garden, too, seems a pretty big one.'
Then addressing Mouret, he inquired:
'Do you allow your lodgers68 to walk in the garden, sir?'
Before Mouret had time to reply, Abbé Faujas, who had come downstairs, cried out in thundering tones:
'Come, Trouche! Come, Olympe!'
They turned round; and when they saw him standing19 on the steps looking terribly angry, they fairly quailed69 and meekly70 followed him. The Abbé went up the stairs in front of them without saying another word, without even seeming to observe the presence of Mouret, who stood gazing after the singular procession. Madame Faujas smiled at Marthe to take away the awkwardness of the situation as she brought up the rear.
Marthe then went out, and Mouret, left to himself, lingered a moment or two in the passage. Upstairs, on the second floor, doors were being noisily banged. Then loud voices were heard, and presently there came dead silence.
'Has he locked them up separately, I wonder?' said Mouret to himself, with a laugh. 'Well, anyhow, they are not a nice family.'
On the very next day, Trouche, respectably dressed, entirely71 in black, shaven, and with his scanty72 hair carefully brushed over his temples, was presented by Abbé Faujas to Marthe and the lady patronesses. He was forty-five years of age, wrote a first-rate hand, and was said to have kept the books of a mercantile house for a long time. The ladies at once installed him as secretary. His duties were to represent the committee, and employ himself in certain routine work from ten till four in an office on the first floor of the Home. His salary was to be fifteen hundred francs.
'Those good people are very quiet, you see,' Marthe remarked to her husband a few days afterwards.
Indeed the Trouches made no more noise than the Faujases. Two or three times Rose asserted that she had heard quarrels[Pg 116] between the mother and daughter, but the Abbé's grave voice had immediately restored peace. Trouche went out every morning punctually at a quarter to ten, and came back again at a quarter past four. He never went out in the evening. Olympe occasionally went shopping with Madame Faujas, but she was never seen to come down the stairs by herself.
The window of the room in which the Trouches slept overlooked the garden. It was the last one on the right, in front of the trees of the Sub-Prefecture. Big curtains of red calico, with a yellow border, hung behind the glass panes73, making a strong contrast, when seen from outside, with the priest's white ones. The window was invariably kept closed. One evening when Abbé Faujas and his mother were out on the terrace with the Mourets, a slight involuntary cough was heard, and as the priest raised his head with an expression of annoyance, he caught sight of Olympe and her husband leaning out of the window. For a moment or two he kept his eyes turned upwards74, thus interrupting his conversation with Marthe. At this the Trouches disappeared; and those below heard the window-catch being fastened.
'You had better go upstairs, I think, mother,' said the priest. 'I am afraid you may be catching cold out here.'
Madame Faujas wished them all good-night; and, when she had retired75, Marthe resumed the conversation by asking in her kindly76 way:
'Is your sister worse? I have not seen her for a week.'
'She has great need of rest,' the priest curtly77 answered.
However, Marthe's sympathetic interest made her continue the subject.
'She shuts herself up too much,' said she; 'the fresh air would do her good. These October evenings are still quite warm. Why doesn't she ever come out into the garden? She has never set foot in it. You know that it is entirely at your disposal.'
The priest muttered a few vague words of excuse, and then Mouret, to increase his embarrassment, manifested still greater amiability78 than his wife's.
'That's just what I was saying this morning,' he began. 'Monsieur l'Abbé's sister might very well bring her sewing out here in the sun in the afternoons, instead of keeping herself shut in upstairs. Anyone would think that she daren't even show herself at the window. She isn't frightened of us, I hope! We are not such terrible people as all that! And[Pg 117] Monsieur Trouche, too, he hurries up the stairs, four steps at a time. Tell them to come and spend an evening with us now and then. They must be frightfully dull up in that room of theirs, all alone.'
The Abbé did not seem to be in the humour that evening to submit to his landlord's pleasantry. He looked him straight in the face, and said very bluntly:
'I am much obliged to you, but there is little probability of their accepting your invitation. They are tired in the evening, and they go to bed. And, besides, that is the best thing they can do.'
'Just as they like, my dear sir,' replied Mouret, vexed by the Abbé's rough manner.
When he was alone again with Marthe, he said to her: 'Does the Abbé, I wonder, think he can persuade us that the moon is made of green cheese? It's quite clear that he is afraid that those scamps he has taken in will play him some bad trick or other. Didn't you see how sharply he kept his eye on them this evening when he caught sight of them at the window? They were spying out at us up there. There will be a bad end to all this!'
Marthe was now living in a state of blessed calm. She no longer felt troubled by Mouret's raillery; the gradual growth of faith within her filled her with exquisite79 joy, she glided80 softly and slowly into a life of pious devotion, which seemed to lull81 her with a sweet restfulness. Abbé Faujas still avoided speaking to her of God. He remained merely a friend, simply exercising influence over her by his grave demeanour and the vague odour of incense82 exhaled83 by his cassock. On two or three occasions when she was alone with him she had again broken out into fits of nervous sobbing84, without knowing why, but finding a happiness in thus allowing herself to weep. On each of these occasions the Abbé had merely taken her hands in silence, calming her with his serene85 and authoritative86 gaze. When she wanted to tell him of her strange attacks of sadness, or her secret joys, or her need of guidance, he smiled and hushed her, telling her that these matters were not his concern, and that she must speak of them to Abbé Bourrette. Then she retired completely within herself and remained trembling; while the priest seemed to assume still colder reserve than before, and strode away from her like some unheeding god at whose feet she wished to pour out her soul in humiliation87.
[Pg 118]
Marthe's chief occupation now was attending the various religious services and works in which she took part. In the vast nave88 of Saint-Saturnin's she felt perfectly happy; it was there that she experienced the full sweetness of that purely89 physical restfulness which she sought. She there forgot everything: it was like an immense window open upon another life, a life that was wide and infinite, and full of an emotion which thrilled and satisfied her. But she still felt some fear of the church, and she went there with a feeling of uneasy bashfulness, and a touch of nervous shame, that made her glance behind her as she passed through the doorway90, to see if anyone was watching her. Then, once inside, she abandoned herself, everything around her seemed to assume a melting softness, even the unctuous91 voice of Abbé Bourrette, who, after he had confessed her, sometimes kept her on her knees for a few minutes longer, while he spoke39 to her about Madame Rastoil's dinners or the Rougons' last reception.
Marthe often returned home in a condition of complete prostration92. Religion seemed to break her down. Rose had become all-powerful in the house. She scolded Mouret, found fault with him because he dirtied too much linen93, and let him have his dinner at her own hours. She even tried to convert him.
'Madame does quite right to live a Christian94 life,' said she. 'You will be damned, sir, you will, and it will only be right, for you are not a good man at heart, no, you are not! You ought to go with your wife to mass next Sunday morning.'
Mouret shrugged his shoulders. He let things take their own course, and sometimes even did a bit of house-work himself, taking a turn or two with the broom when he thought that the dining-room looked particularly dusty. The children gave him most trouble. It was vacation-time, and, as their mother was scarcely ever at home, Désirée and Octave—who had again failed in his examination for his degree—turned the place upside down. Serge was poorly, kept his bed, and spent whole days in reading in his room. He had become Abbé Faujas's favourite, and the priest lent him books. Mouret thus spent two dreadful months, at his wits' end how to manage his young folks. Octave was a special trouble to him, and as he did not feel inclined to keep him at home till the end of the vacation, he determined95 that he should not again return to college, but should be sent to some business-house at Marseilles.
[Pg 119]
'Since you won't look after them at all,' he said to Marthe, 'I must find some place or other to put them in. I am quite worn out with them all, and I won't have them at home any longer. It's your own fault if it causes you any grief. Octave is quite unbearable96. He will never pass his examination, and it will be much better to teach him at once how to gain his own living instead of letting him idle his time away with a lot of good-for-nothings. One meets him roaming all over the town.'
Marthe was very much distressed. She seemed to awake from a dream on hearing that one of her children was about to leave her. She succeeded in getting the departure postponed97 for a week, during which she remained more at home, and resumed her active life. But she quickly dropped back again into her previous state of listless languor98; and on the day that Octave came to kiss her, telling her that he was to leave for Marseilles in the evening, she had lost all strength and energy, and contented99 herself with giving him some good advice.
Mouret came back from the railway station with a very heavy heart. He looked about him for his wife, and found her in the garden, crying under the arbour. Then he gave vent42 to his feelings.
'There! that's one the less!' he exclaimed. 'You ought to feel glad of it. You will be able to go prowling about the church now as much as you like. Make your mind easy, the other two won't be here long. I shall keep Serge with me as he is a very quiet lad and is rather young as yet to go and read for the bar; but if he's at all in your way, just let me know, and I will free you of him at once. As for Désirée, I shall send her to her nurse.'
Marthe went on weeping in silence.
'But what would you have?' he continued. 'You can't be both in and out. Since you have taken to keeping away from home, your children have become indifferent to you. That's logic100, isn't it? Besides it is necessary to find room for all the people who are now living in our house. It isn't nearly big enough, and we shall be lucky if we don't get turned out of doors ourselves.'
He had raised his eyes as he spoke, and was looking at the windows of the second-floor. Then, lowering his voice, he added:
'Don't go on crying in that ridiculous way! They are[Pg 120] watching you. Don't you see those eyes peeping between the red curtains? They are the eyes of the Abbé's sister; I know them well enough. You may depend on seeing them there all day long. The Abbé himself may be a decent fellow, but as for those Trouches, I know they are always crouching101 behind their curtains like wolves waiting to spring on one. I feel quite certain that if the Abbé didn't prevent them, they would come down in the night to steal my pears. Dry your tears, my dear; you may be quite sure that they are enjoying our disagreement. Even though they have been the cause of the boy's going away, that is no reason why we should let them see what a trouble his departure has been to us both.'
His voice broke, and he himself seemed on the point of sobbing. Marthe, quite heart-broken, deeply touched by his last words, was prompted to throw herself into his arms. But they were afraid of being observed; and besides they felt as if there were some obstacle between them that prevented them from coming together. So they separated, while Olympe's eyes still glistened between the red curtains upstairs.
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derive
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| v.取得；导出；引申；来自；源自；出自 | |
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seclusion
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| n.隐遁，隔离 | |
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solitude
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| n. 孤独; 独居,荒僻之地,幽静的地方 | |
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bent
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| n.爱好，癖好；adj.弯的；决心的，一心的 | |
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catching
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| adj.易传染的，有魅力的，迷人的，接住 | |
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disinterested
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| adj.不关心的，不感兴趣的 | |
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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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complaisance
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| n.彬彬有礼，殷勤，柔顺 | |
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lavishing
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| v.过分给予，滥施( lavish的现在分词 ) | |
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perfectly
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| adv.完美地，无可非议地，彻底地 | |
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embellished
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| v.美化( embellish的过去式和过去分词 )；装饰；修饰；润色 | |
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slab
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| n.平板，厚的切片；v.切成厚板，以平板盖上 | |
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bishop
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| n.主教，（国际象棋）象 | |
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avocations
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| n.业余爱好，嗜好( avocation的名词复数 )；职业 | |
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necessitated
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| 使…成为必要，需要( necessitate的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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virtue
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| n.德行，美德；贞操；优点；功效，效力 | |
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allusion
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| n.暗示，间接提示 | |
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tranquil
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| adj. 安静的, 宁静的, 稳定的, 不变的 | |
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standing
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| n.持续，地位；adj.永久的，不动的，直立的，不流动的 | |
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annoyance
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| n.恼怒，生气，烦恼 | |
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favourable
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| adj.赞成的，称赞的，有利的，良好的，顺利的 | |
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collation
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| n.便餐；整理 | |
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23
sips
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| n.小口喝，一小口的量( sip的名词复数 )v.小口喝，呷，抿( sip的第三人称单数 ) | |
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pious
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| adj.虔诚的；道貌岸然的 | |
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rivalries
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| n.敌对，竞争，对抗( rivalry的名词复数 ) | |
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profusely
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| ad.abundantly | |
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27
corrupt
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| v.贿赂，收买；adj.腐败的，贪污的 | |
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clergy
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| n.[总称]牧师，神职人员 | |
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conceal
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| v.隐藏，隐瞒，隐蔽 | |
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pretence
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| n.假装，作假；借口，口实；虚伪；虚饰 | |
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mere
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| adj.纯粹的；仅仅，只不过 | |
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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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acting
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| n.演戏，行为，假装；adj.代理的，临时的，演出用的 | |
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crumpled
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| adj. 弯扭的, 变皱的 动词crumple的过去式和过去分词形式 | |
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interfere
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| v.(in)干涉，干预；(with)妨碍，打扰 | |
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attentive
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| adj.注意的，专心的；关心(别人)的，殷勤的 | |
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displeasing
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| 不愉快的，令人发火的 | |
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tugging
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| n.牵引感v.用力拉，使劲拉，猛扯( tug的现在分词 ) | |
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spoke
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| n.（车轮的）辐条；轮辐；破坏某人的计划；阻挠某人的行动 v.讲，谈（speak的过去式）；说；演说；从某种观点来说 | |
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lodgings
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| n. 出租的房舍, 寄宿舍 | |
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distressed
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| 痛苦的 | |
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42
vent
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| n.通风口，排放口；开衩；vt.表达，发泄 | |
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displeased
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| a.不快的 | |
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accusation
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| n.控告，指责，谴责 | |
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45
stammered
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| v.结巴地说出( stammer的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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majesty
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| n.雄伟，壮丽，庄严，威严；最高权威，王权 | |
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shrugged
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| vt.耸肩（shrug的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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vented
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| 表达，发泄（感情，尤指愤怒）( vent的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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isolated
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| adj.与世隔绝的 | |
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embarrassment
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| n.尴尬；使人为难的人(事物)；障碍；窘迫 | |
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peculiar
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| adj.古怪的，异常的；特殊的，特有的 | |
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clattering
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| 发出咔哒声（clatter的现在分词形式） | |
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53
jaws
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| n.口部；嘴 | |
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54
fumble
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| vi.笨拙地用手摸、弄、接等，摸索 | |
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greasy
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| adj. 多脂的，油脂的 | |
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thighs
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| n.股，大腿( thigh的名词复数 )；食用的鸡（等的）腿 | |
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bonnet
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| n.无边女帽；童帽 | |
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ragged
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| adj.衣衫褴褛的，粗糙的，刺耳的 | |
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reek
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| v.发出臭气；n.恶臭 | |
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vice
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| n.坏事；恶习；[pl.]台钳，老虎钳；adj.副的 | |
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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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incessantly
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| ad.不停地 | |
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63
astonishment
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| n.惊奇，惊异 | |
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covetousness
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plunder
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| vt.劫掠财物，掠夺；n.劫掠物，赃物；劫掠 | |
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tablecloth
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| n.桌布，台布 | |
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impatience
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| n.不耐烦，急躁 | |
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68
lodgers
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| n.房客，租住者( lodger的名词复数 ) | |
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quailed
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| 害怕，发抖，畏缩( quail的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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meekly
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| adv.温顺地，逆来顺受地 | |
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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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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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panes
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| 窗玻璃( pane的名词复数 ) | |
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74
upwards
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| adv.向上，在更高处...以上 | |
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retired
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| adj.隐退的，退休的，退役的 | |
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kindly
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| adj.和蔼的，温和的，爽快的；adv.温和地，亲切地 | |
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curtly
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| adv.简短地 | |
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78
amiability
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| n.和蔼可亲的，亲切的，友善的 | |
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79
exquisite
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| adj.精美的；敏锐的；剧烈的，感觉强烈的 | |
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80
glided
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| v.滑动( glide的过去式和过去分词 )；掠过；（鸟或飞机 ） 滑翔 | |
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81
lull
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| v.使安静，使入睡，缓和，哄骗；n.暂停，间歇 | |
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82
incense
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| v.激怒；n.香，焚香时的烟，香气 | |
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83
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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84
sobbing
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| <主方>Ⅰ adj.湿透的 | |
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85
serene
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| adj. 安详的，宁静的，平静的 | |
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86
authoritative
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| adj.有权威的，可相信的；命令式的；官方的 | |
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87
humiliation
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| n.羞辱 | |
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88
nave
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| n.教堂的中部；本堂 | |
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89
purely
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| adv.纯粹地，完全地 | |
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90
doorway
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| n.门口，(喻)入门；门路，途径 | |
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91
unctuous
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| adj.油腔滑调的，大胆的 | |
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92
prostration
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| n. 平伏, 跪倒, 疲劳 | |
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93
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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Christian
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| adj.基督教徒的；n.基督教徒 | |
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determined
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| adj.坚定的；有决心的 | |
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96
unbearable
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| adj.不能容忍的；忍受不住的 | |
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97
postponed
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| vt.& vi.延期，缓办，（使）延迟vt.把…放在次要地位；[语]把…放在后面（或句尾）vi.（疟疾等）延缓发作（或复发） | |
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98
languor
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| n.无精力，倦怠 | |
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99
contented
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| adj.满意的，安心的，知足的 | |
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100
logic
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| n.逻辑(学)；逻辑性 | |
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101
crouching
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| v.屈膝，蹲伏( crouch的现在分词 ) | |
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