There was now at Grant the prospect10 of a girl, and for days ahead the bachelors had planned about her. She was Landor's ward11,—it was news to them that he had a ward, for he was not given to confidences,—and she was going to visit the wife of his captain, Mrs. Campbell. When they asked questions, Landor said she was eighteen years old, and that her name was Cabot, and that as he had not seen her for ten years he did not know whether she were pretty or not. But the vagueness surrounding her was rather attractive than otherwise, on the whole. It was not even known when she would arrive. There was no railroad to[Pg 14] Arizona. From Kansas she would have to travel by ambulance with the troops which were changing station.
There was only Mrs. Campbell who knew the whole story. Landor had gone to her for advice, as had been his custom since the days before she had preferred Campbell to him. "Felipa," he said, "writes that she is going to run away from school, if I don't take her away. She says she will, and she undoubtedly12 means it. I have always noticed that there is no indecision in her character."
Mrs. Campbell asked where she proposed running to.
Landor did not know; but she was part Apache, he said, and Harry13 Cabot's daughter, and it was pretty certain that with that blood in her veins14 she had the spirit of adventure.
She asked what he had thought of doing about it.
"I've thought of bringing her on here. But how can I? In a bachelor establishment? My sister won't have her at any terms. She suggested an orphan15 asylum16 from the first, and she hasn't changed her mind."
Mrs. Campbell appliqued a black velvet17 imp18 on a green felt lambrequin, and thought. "Do you ever happen to realize that you have your hands very full?"
"Yes," he said shortly, "I realize it."
He sat staring over her head for a moment of silence. "I foresaw it when I told Cabot I'd take her."
"Might not an orphan asylum have been best, after all?"
"It might for me," he said, "but not for her, and I[Pg 15] told Cabot I'd do my best for her." It had seemed to him his plain duty, and he had done it, and he asked no approbation19.
Mrs. Campbell took it as he did, for a matter of course. She wasted no words in expressing admiration20 for what he had done, but kept to the main issue, making herself useful, as women are rarely content to do when they deal with men, without indulging her taste for the sentimental21. "Suppose I were to take her?" she suggested.
He opposed drawbacks. "You can't keep her always."
She smiled. "The chances that she will marry are excellent."
He did not answer at once, but sat watching the trumpeter come out of the adjutant's office to sound recall. "Yes, she will marry," he agreed; "if no one else marries her, I will. I am as old as her father would have been but it would save telling some fellow about her birth."
"Did the girl know her own story?" she asked.
She did not. He had merely told her that her father was his friend and had died on the plains. "She thinks her mother died at Stanton. It is so near the Mescalero Agency that I let it go at that."
They argued it from all sides during the whole of a day, and Campbell lent his advice, and the end of it was that Felipa Cabot came out to the land of her forbears.
Pending22 her arrival, Landor brought himself to look[Pg 16] upon it as his plain duty and only course to marry her. It would save her, and any man who might otherwise happen to love her, from learning what she was. That she might refuse to look at it in that way, did not much enter into his calculations. It required a strong effort for him to decide it so, but it was his way to pick out the roughest possible path before him, to settle within himself that it was that of duty, and to follow it without fagging or complaint. He dreaded23 any taint24 of Apache blood as he dreaded the venom25 of a rattler. He had seen its manifestations26 for twenty odd years, had seen the hostile savage27 and the civilized28 one, and shrank most from the latter. But he had promised Cabot to do his best by the waif, and the best he could see was to marry her. There was always before him, to urge him on to the sacrifice, the stalwart figure of his boyhood's friend, standing29 forsaken30 in the stretch of desert with the buzzards hovering31 over him in the burning sky. He permitted himself to hope, however, that she was not too obviously a squaw.
When the day came he rode out with most of the garrison32 to meet her. He was anxious. He recalled Anne of Cleves, and had a fellow-feeling for the King. By the time they came in sight of the marching troops, he had worked himself to such an implicit33 faith in the worst that he decided34 that the wide figure, heavily blue-veiled, and linen-dustered, on the back seat of the Dougherty was she. It is one of the strongest arguments of the pessimist35 in favor[Pg 17] of his philosophy, that the advantage of expecting the disagreeable lies in the fact that, if he meets with disappointment, it is necessarily a pleasant one.
Felipa Cabot proved to be a lithe36 creature, who rode beside the ambulance with the officers, and who, in spite of the dust and tan and traces of a hard march, was beautiful. In the reaction of the moment Landor thought her the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. But she froze the consequent warmth of his greeting with a certain indefinable stolidity37, and she eyed him with an unabashed intention of determining whether he were satisfactory or not, which changed his position to that of the one upon approbation. If she had been less handsome, it would have been repellent.
Before they had reached the post, he had learned a good deal about her. The elderly major who had come with her from Kansas told him that a lieutenant2 by the name of Brewster was insanely in love with her, that the same Brewster was a good deal of an ass,—the two facts having no connection, however,—that she was an excellent travelling companion, always satisfied and always well. What the major did not tell him, but what he gathered almost at once, was that the girl had not endeared herself to any one; she was neither loved nor disliked—the lieutenant's infatuation was not to be taken as an indication of her character, of course. But then she was beautiful, with her long, intent eyes, and strong brows and features cut on classic lines of perfection. So Landor left the major and cantered ahead to join her, where she rode with Brewster.
[Pg 18]
"Has the trip been hard?" he asked.
She answered that she had enjoyed it all, every day of it, and Brewster joined in with ecstatic praises of her horsemanship and endurance, finishing with the unlucky comment that she rode like an Indian.
"Apaches ride badly, don't they?" she said, with calm matter of fact. "If you mean that I am hard on my horse, though, you are right." Her voice was exquisitely38 sweet, without modulation39.
In the weeks that followed, Landor spent days and some nights—those when he sat up to visit the guard, as a rule—attempting to decide why his ward repelled40 him. She seemed to be quite like any other contented41 and natural young girl. She danced, and courted admiration, within the bounds of propriety42; she was fond of dress, and rather above the average in intelligence. Usually she was excellent company, whimsical and sweet-humored. She rode well enough, and learned—to his intense annoyance—to shoot with a bow and arrow quite remarkably44, so much so that they nicknamed her Diana. He had remonstrated45 at first, but there was no reason to urge, after all. Archery was quite a feminine sport.
When his analysis of her failed, he went to Mrs. Campbell again. "Do you grow fond of Felipa?" he asked point blank.
She tried to parry and evade46, but he would not have it, and obliged her to admit that she did not. "Not that I dislike her," she explained. "I like to have her round. I dare say it is a whim43."
[Pg 19]
He shook his head. "It is not a whim. It is the same with every one. Of course Brewster has lost his head, but that argues nothing. The endearing quality seems to be lacking in her."
She sat considering deeply. She was rocking the baby, with its little fair head lying in the hollow of her shoulder, and Landor found himself wondering whether Felipa could ever develop motherliness. "It is quite intangible," Mrs. Campbell half crooned, for the baby's lids were drooping47 heavily. "I can't find that she lacks a good characteristic. I study her all the time. Perhaps the fault is in ourselves, as much as anything, because we insist upon studying her as a problem, instead of simply a very young girl. She is absolutely truthful,—unless she happens to have a grudge48 against some one, and then she lies without any scruple49 at all,—and she is generous and unselfish, and very amiable50 with the children, too."
Landor asked, with a gleam of hope, if they were attached to her.
"Yes," she told him, "they are, and it is that makes me think that the fault may be ours. She is so patient with them."
At that moment Felipa herself came up the steps and joined them on the porch. She walked with the gait of a young athlete. Her skirts were short enough to leave her movements unhampered, and she wore on her feet a pair of embroidered51 moccasins. She seemed to be drawing the very breath of life into her quivering nostrils52, and she smiled on them both good-humoredly.
[Pg 20]
"Look," she said, going up to Landor with a noiseless tread that made him shiver almost visibly. Mrs. Campbell watched them. She was sorry for him.
Felipa held out her hand and showed a little brown bird that struggled feebly. She explained that its leg was broken, and he drew back instinctively53. There was not a trace of softness or pity in her sweet voice. Then he took the bird in his own big hand and asked her how it had happened. "I did it with an arrow," said Diana, unslinging her quiver, which was a barbaric affair of mountain-lion skin, red flannel54, and beads55.
"I can't see why you should take pleasure in shooting these harmless things," he said impatiently; "the foot-hills are full of quail56, and there are ducks along the creek57. For that matter you might try your skill on prairie dogs, it seems to me."
She looked down at the curled toe of her moccasin with a certain air of repentance58, and answered his question as to what she meant to do with it by explaining that she meant to keep it for a pet.
He stroked its head with his finger as it lay still, opening and shutting its bright little eyes. "It won't live," he told her, and then the thought occurred to him to put her to the test. He held the bird out to her. "Wring59 its neck," he said, "and end its misery60."
She showed no especial repugnance61 at the idea, but refused flatly, nevertheless. "I can't do that," she said, dropping down into the hammock and swinging herself with the tip of her foot on the floor.
[Pg 21]
"I fail to see why not. You can wound it."
"But that is sport," she answered carelessly.
He felt that he ought to dislike her cordially, but he did not. He admired her, on the contrary, as he would have admired a fine boy. She seemed to have no religion, no ideals, and no petty vanity; therefore, from his point of judgment62, she was not feminine. Perhaps the least feminine thing about her was the manner in which she appeared to take it for granted that he was going to marry her, without his having said, as yet, a word to that effect. In a certain way it simplified matters, and in another it made them more difficult. It is not easy to ask a woman to marry you where she looks into your eyes unhesitatingly. But Landor decided that it had to be done. She had been in the post four months, and with the standing exception of Brewster, whom she discouraged resolutely63, none of the officers cared for her beyond the flirtation64 limit.
So one night when they were sitting upon the Campbells' steps, he took the plunge65. She had been talking earnestly, discussing the advisability of filing off the hammer of the pistol he had given her, to prevent its catching66 on the holster when she wanted to draw it quickly. One of her long, brown hands was laid on his knee, with the most admirable lack of self-consciousness. He put his own hand upon it, and she looked up questioningly. She was unused to caresses67 from any but the two Campbell children, and her frank surprise held a reproach that softened68 his voice almost to tenderness.
[Pg 22]
"Do you think you could love me, Felipa?" he asked, without any preface at all.
She said "Yes" as frankly69 as she would have said it to the children. It was blighting70 to any budding romance, but he tried hard nevertheless to save the next question from absolute baldness. He had a resentful sort of feeling that he was entitled to at least a little idealism. As she would not give it, he tried to find it for himself, noting the grace of her long free neck, the wealth of her coarse black hair, and the beauty of her smiling mouth. But the smiling mouth answered his low-spoken "Will you marry me then, dear?" with the same frank assent72. "Not for a good while, though," she added. "I am too young." That was all, and in a moment she was telling him some of Brewster's absurdities73, with a certain appreciation74 of the droll75 that kept it from being malicious76.
As he had made Mrs. Campbell his confidante from the first, he told her about this too, now, and finished with the half-helpless, half-amused query77 as to what he should do. "It may be any length of time before she decides that she is old enough, and it never seems to occur to her that this state of things can't go on forever, that she is imposing78 upon you." "And the most serious part of it," he added after a while, "is that she does not love me."
"You don't love her, for that matter, either," Mrs. Campbell reminded him. But she advised the inevitable,—to wait and let it work itself out.
So he waited and stood aside somewhat, to watch[Pg 23] the course of Brewster's suit. He derived79 some little amusement from it, too, but he wondered with rather a deeper tinge80 of anxiety than was altogether necessary what the final outcome would be.
One morning Brewster met Felipa coming from the hospital and carrying a wide-mouthed bottle. He joined her and asked if the little lady were going to grow flowers in it. The little lady, who was quite as tall as and a good deal more imposing than himself, answered that it was for a vinagrone. He remonstrated. She was surely not going to make a pet of one of those villanous insects. No. She had caught a tarantula, too, and she was going to make them fight.
"Were you catching the tarantula yesterday when I saw you lying upon the ground by the dump heap?"
"Yes," she said, "did you see me? I dare say you thought I was communing with Nature in the midst of the old tin cans and horseshoes. Well, I wasn't. I was watching the trap of a tarantula nest, and I caught him when he came out. I've watched that hole for three days," she announced triumphantly81. "As for the vinagrone, the cook found him in his tent, and I bottled him. Come and see the fight," she invited amiably82.
Presently she returned with two bottles. In one was the tarantula, an especially large and hideous83 specimen6, hairy and black, with dull red tinges84. In the other the vinagrone, yet more hideous. She went down to the side of the house and emptied both into the wide-mouthed bottle.
[Pg 24]
Brewster was in agony. He reached out and caught her hand. "My darling," he cried, "take care!"
She turned on him quickly. "Let me be," she commanded, and he obeyed humbly85. Then she corked86 the bottle and shook it so that the animals rolled on top of each other, and laying it on the ground bent87 over it with the deepest interest. Brewster watched too, fascinated in spite of himself. It was so very ugly. The two wicked little creatures fought desperately88. But after a time they withdrew to the sides of the bottle, and were quite still. The tarantula had left a leg lying loose.
Felipa turned from them and waited, clasping her hands and smiling up at Brewster. He, misinterpreting, felt encouraged and begged her to leave the disgusting insects. He had something very different to talk about. She said that she did not want to hear it, and would he bet on the tarantula or the vinagrone?
"Don't bring them into it," he implored89. "If you will not come away, I will tell you now, Felipa, that I love you." He was more in earnest than Landor had been. She felt that herself. His voice broke, and he paled.
But she only considered the insects, which were beginning to move again, and answered absently that she knew it, that he had said it before. "Oh! Mr. Brewster, bet quickly," she urged.
He caught her by the arm, exasperated90 past all civility, and shook her. "Do you hear me, Felipa Cabot? I tell you that I love you."
[Pg 25]
She was strong, slender as she was, and she freed herself almost without effort. And yet he would not be warned. "Don't you love me?" he insisted, as though she had not already made it plain enough.
"No," she said shortly. "You had better bet."
He made as if to kick the bottle away, but quick as a flash she was on her feet and facing him.
"You touch that," she said resolutely, "and I'll let them both loose on you."
He turned on his heel and left her.
Landor and the adjutant came by, and she called to them. The adjutant backed the vinagrone with a bag of sutler's candy, and Felipa took the tarantula. It was mainly legless trunk, but still furious. Landor studied her. She was quiet, but her eyes had grown narrow, and they gleamed curiously91 at the sight of the torn legs and feelers scattering92 around the bottle, wriggling93 and writhing94. She was at her very worst.
It ended in victory for the vinagrone, but he died from his wounds an hour later. Felipa told Landor so, as they started for a ride, early in the afternoon. "The vinagrone is dead," she said; "Mr. Brewster didn't like my fighting them." Then she assumed the lofty dignity that contrasted so oddly sometimes with her childish simplicity95. "He lacks tact96 awfully97. Think of it! He took the occasion to say that he loved me. As though he had not told me so a dozen times before."
"And you—what did you say?" asked Landor. He was a little surprised to find how anxiously he[Pg 26] waited, and the extent of his relief when she answered, "I told him to let me be, or I would set them loose on him."
Official business called Brewster to the Agency next day. He stopped overnight, on the way, at a ranch98 whose owners depended more upon passing travellers than upon the bad soil and the thin cattle. And here fate threw in his way one whom he would have gone well out of that way to find.
It was a civilian99 with whom he was obliged to share his room. He did not fancy having to share his room at all, in the first place, and this and other things made his temper bad. The civilian, on the other hand, was in good temper, and inclined to be communicative. He tried several ways of opening a conversation, and undaunted by rebuffs tried yet once more. Like Bruce and the spider, it was exactly the seventh time that he succeeded.
"How's things up at Grant?" he drawled through his beard, as he took off that sacred and ceremonious garment known to the true frontiersman as his vest, and without which he feels as lost as without his high-heeled boots.
Brewster mumbled100 out of a towel that he guessed they were all right, and implied what the dickens did it matter to him how they were.
"I hear you got Jack101 Landor up there?"
Then Brewster began to listen.
"Yes," he said, emptying the soap-caked water from the Indian basket wash basin upon the earth floor;[Pg 27] "why?"—"I used to know him in '61. He came up to the Mescalero Agency then, not long before the Texans overran the place. I recollect102 there was a sort of blizzard103 and it was seventeen below. He came after a kid me and another feller'd been looking after. Pretty little cuss, about four years old. I gave her her first bow'n arrow."
Brewster took on an elaborate and entirely104 unnecessary air of indifference105, and yawned to heighten the effect. "What did he want of the child?" he asked negligently106.
"Her father was dead. He left her to him."
"Who was her father?" Brewster wanted to know.
The man told him. "He'd been a private up to Stanton, and had been killed by some of Cochise's people that summer. Her mother was a half-breed by the name of Felipa. Good-looking squaw, but dead, too—killed by Mexicans. Do you happen to know whatever became of the kid?"
Brewster told him that she was with Landor at the post now.
"She must be a woman by this time," reflected the civilian. "Is she married to him?"
Brewster explained that she was visiting Captain Campbell's family.
Did she show the squaw? he asked. "Not unless you knew it was there," the officer said tolerantly. Then he went to bed and slept with that peace of mind which comes of a proud consciousness of holding the handle of the whip. In the morning he got the[Pg 28] man's name and address before he went on up to the Agency.
There he heard of Landor again. This time it was through Barnwell, and the descriptions were picturesque107. Brewster encouraged them, paying a good deal more heed108 to them than to the little complaints of the Indians he had been sent up to investigate. Then he returned to Grant, taking with him in the ambulance an enlisted109 man returning to receive his discharge.
Barnwell had told Brewster about him also. "His name is Cairness,—Charles Cairness,—and he's got a lot of fool theories too," he explained. "He goes in for art, makes some pretty good paintings of the Indians, and has picked up some of their lingo110. Made himself agreeable to the squaws, I guess. The interpreter says there's one got her nose cut off by her buck111, on his account."
Brewster suggested that he thought Crook112 had put a stop to those mutilations, but the official shrugged113 his shoulders.
"I don't know how true it was, and I certainly ain't going to look her up in her rancheria to find out."
The hero of the episode rode in the ambulance, sitting on the front seat, holding his carbine across his knees, and peering with sharp, far-sighted blue eyes over the alkali flats. Occasionally he took a shot at a jack rabbit and brought it down unfailingly, but the frontiersman has no relish114 for rabbit meat, and it was left where it dropped, for the crows. He also brought down a sparrow hawk115 wounded in the wing, and, [Pg 29]having bound up the wound, offered it to Brewster, who took it as an opening to a conversation and tried to draw him out.
"Barnwell tells me," he began, "that you have picked up a good deal of Apache."
"Some Sierra Blanca, sir," said the soldier. It was respectful enough, and yet there was somewhere in the man's whole manner an air of equality, even superiority, that exasperated the lieutenant. It was contrary to good order and military discipline that a private should speak without hesitation116, or without offence to the English tongue.
Brewster resented it, and so the next thing he said was calculated to annoy. "He says you are quite one of them."
"He is mistaken, sir."
"Have you an Indian policy?"
Cairness's eyes turned from a little ground owl117 on the top of a mound118 and looked him full in the face. "I really can't see, sir," he said, "how it can matter to any one."
It did not in the least matter to Brewster, but he was one of those trying people whom Nature has deprived of the instinct for knowing when to stop. A very perceptible sneer119 twitched120 his lips. "You seem to be English," he said.
"I am," announced the soldier.
Now it is a hazardous121 undertaking122 to question an Englishman who does not care to be questioned. A person of good judgment would about as lief try to[Pg 30] poke71 up a cross lion to play. But Brewster persisted, and asked if Cairness would be willing to live among the Apaches.
"They have their good traits, sir," said the man, civilly, "and chief among them is that they mind their own business."
It was impossible to misunderstand, and Brewster was vexed123 beyond the bounds of all wisdom. "The squaws have their good traits, too, I guess. I hear one had her nose cut off on your account." He should not have said it. He knew it, and he knew that the private knew it, but the man made no reply whatever.
The remainder of the drive Cairness devoted124 to caring for the broken wing of the hawk, and, during halts, to sketching126 anything that presented itself,—the mules127, the driver, passing Mexicans, or the cows trying to graze from ground where the alkali formed patches of white scum. He also accomplished128 a fine caricature of the lieutenant, and derived considerable silent amusement therefrom.
The night of their return to the post, Cairness, crossing the parade ground shortly before retreat, saw Felipa. He had been walking with his eyes on the earth, debating within himself the question of his future, whether he should re?nlist, succumb129 to the habit of the service, which is to ambition and endeavor what opium130 is to the system, or drop back into the yet more aimless life he had been leading five years before, when a fit of self-disgust had caused him to decide that he was good for nothing but a trooper, if even that.
[Pg 31]
A long sunset shadow fell across his path, and he looked up. Felipa was walking beside a little white burro, and holding Mrs. Campbell's golden-curled baby upon its back. She carried her head superbly erect131, and her step, because of the moccasins, was quite noiseless. The glow of the sunset shone in her unflinching eyes, and lost itself in the dull black mass of her hair. She studied his face calmly, with a perfectly132 impersonal133 approval.
Cairness went on, back to the barracks, and sitting at the troop clerk's desk, made a memory sketch125 of her. It did not by any means satisfy him, but he kept it nevertheless.
That night he sat upon the edge of his bunk134, in the darkness, after taps, with his elbows on his knees and his chin in his hand, and thought the matter to a conclusion. The conclusion was that he would not re?nlist, and the reason for it was the girl he had met on the parade ground. He knew the power that beauty had over him. It was as real, as irresistible135, as a physical sensation. And he thought Felipa Cabot the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. "She should be done in a heroic bronze," he told himself; "but as I can't do it, and as I haven't the right to so much as think about her, I shall be considerably136 happier at a distance, so I'll go."
He went the next day but one, riding out of the post at daylight. And he saw Felipa once more. She was standing by the creek, drawing an arrow from her quiver and fitting it to her bow. Then she poised137 the[Pg 32] toe of her left foot lightly upon the ground, bent back, and drew the bow almost to a semicircle. The arrow flew straight up into the shimmering138 air, straight through the body of a little jay, which came whirling, spinning down among the trees. Felipa gave a quick leap of delight at having made such a shot, then she darted139 down in search of the bird. And Cairness rode on.
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1
blessing
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| n.祈神赐福；祷告；祝福，祝愿 | |
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2
lieutenant
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| n.陆军中尉，海军上尉；代理官员，副职官员 | |
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3
lieutenants
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| n.陆军中尉( lieutenant的名词复数 )；副职官员；空军；仅低于…官阶的官员 | |
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4
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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5
weird
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| adj.古怪的，离奇的；怪诞的，神秘而可怕的 | |
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6
specimen
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| n.样本，标本 | |
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7
specimens
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| n.样品( specimen的名词复数 )；范例；（化验的）抽样；某种类型的人 | |
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reign
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| n.统治时期，统治，支配，盛行；v.占优势 | |
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flirt
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| v.调情，挑逗，调戏；n.调情者，卖俏者 | |
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prospect
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| n.前景，前途；景色，视野 | |
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ward
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| n.守卫，监护，病房，行政区，由监护人或法院保护的人（尤指儿童）；vt.守护，躲开 | |
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12
undoubtedly
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| adv.确实地，无疑地 | |
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harry
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| vt.掠夺，蹂躏，使苦恼 | |
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veins
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| n.纹理；矿脉( vein的名词复数 )；静脉；叶脉；纹理 | |
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15
orphan
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| n.孤儿；adj.无父母的 | |
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asylum
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| n.避难所，庇护所，避难 | |
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velvet
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| n.丝绒，天鹅绒；adj.丝绒制的，柔软的 | |
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imp
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| n.顽童 | |
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approbation
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| n.称赞；认可 | |
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admiration
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| n.钦佩，赞美，羡慕 | |
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sentimental
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| adj.多愁善感的，感伤的 | |
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pending
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| prep.直到，等待…期间；adj.待定的；迫近的 | |
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23
dreaded
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| adj.令人畏惧的；害怕的v.害怕，恐惧，担心( dread的过去式和过去分词) | |
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24
taint
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| n.污点；感染；腐坏；v.使感染；污染 | |
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25
venom
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| n.毒液，恶毒，痛恨 | |
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26
manifestations
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| n.表示，显示（manifestation的复数形式） | |
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27
savage
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| adj.野蛮的；凶恶的，残暴的；n.未开化的人 | |
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civilized
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| a.有教养的，文雅的 | |
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29
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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30
Forsaken
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| adj. 被遗忘的, 被抛弃的 动词forsake的过去分词 | |
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31
hovering
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| 鸟( hover的现在分词 )； 靠近（某事物）； （人）徘徊； 犹豫 | |
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32
garrison
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| n.卫戍部队；驻地，卫戍区；vt.派(兵)驻防 | |
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33
implicit
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| a.暗示的，含蓄的，不明晰的，绝对的 | |
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34
decided
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| adj.决定了的，坚决的；明显的，明确的 | |
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35
pessimist
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| n.悲观者；悲观主义者；厌世 | |
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36
lithe
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| adj.(指人、身体)柔软的，易弯的 | |
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37
stolidity
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| n.迟钝，感觉麻木 | |
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38
exquisitely
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| adv.精致地；强烈地；剧烈地；异常地 | |
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39
modulation
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| n.调制 | |
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40
repelled
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| v.击退( repel的过去式和过去分词 )；使厌恶；排斥；推开 | |
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41
contented
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| adj.满意的，安心的，知足的 | |
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42
propriety
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| n.正当行为；正当；适当 | |
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43
whim
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| n.一时的兴致，突然的念头；奇想，幻想 | |
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44
remarkably
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| ad.不同寻常地，相当地 | |
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45
remonstrated
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| v.抗议( remonstrate的过去式和过去分词 )；告诫 | |
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46
evade
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| vt.逃避，回避；避开，躲避 | |
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47
drooping
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| adj. 下垂的，无力的 动词droop的现在分词 | |
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48
grudge
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| n.不满，怨恨，妒嫉；vt.勉强给，不情愿做 | |
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49
scruple
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| n./v.顾忌，迟疑 | |
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50
amiable
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| adj.和蔼可亲的，友善的，亲切的 | |
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51
embroidered
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| adj．绣花的 | |
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52
nostrils
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| 鼻孔( nostril的名词复数 ) | |
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53
instinctively
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| adv.本能地 | |
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54
flannel
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| n.法兰绒；法兰绒衣服 | |
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55
beads
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| n.（空心）小珠子( bead的名词复数 )；水珠；珠子项链 | |
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56
quail
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| n.鹌鹑；vi.畏惧，颤抖 | |
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57
creek
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| n.小溪，小河，小湾 | |
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58
repentance
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| n.懊悔 | |
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59
wring
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| n.扭绞；v.拧，绞出，扭 | |
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60
misery
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| n.痛苦，苦恼，苦难；悲惨的境遇，贫苦 | |
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61
repugnance
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| n.嫌恶 | |
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62
judgment
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| n.审判；判断力，识别力，看法，意见 | |
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63
resolutely
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| adj.坚决地，果断地 | |
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64
flirtation
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| n.调情，调戏，挑逗 | |
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65
plunge
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| v.跳入，(使)投入，(使)陷入；猛冲 | |
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66
catching
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| adj.易传染的，有魅力的，迷人的，接住 | |
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67
caresses
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| 爱抚，抚摸( caress的名词复数 ) | |
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68
softened
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| （使）变软( soften的过去式和过去分词 )； 缓解打击； 缓和； 安慰 | |
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69
frankly
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| adv.坦白地，直率地；坦率地说 | |
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70
blighting
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| 使凋萎( blight的现在分词 )； 使颓丧； 损害； 妨害 | |
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71
poke
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| n.刺，戳，袋；vt.拨开，刺，戳；vi.戳，刺，捅，搜索，伸出，行动散慢 | |
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72
assent
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| v.批准，认可；n.批准，认可 | |
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73
absurdities
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| n.极端无理性( absurdity的名词复数 )；荒谬；谬论；荒谬的行为 | |
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74
appreciation
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| n.评价；欣赏；感谢；领会，理解；价格上涨 | |
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75
droll
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| adj.古怪的，好笑的 | |
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76
malicious
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| adj.有恶意的，心怀恶意的 | |
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77
query
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| n.疑问，问号，质问；vt.询问，表示怀疑 | |
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78
imposing
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| adj.使人难忘的，壮丽的，堂皇的，雄伟的 | |
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79
derived
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| vi.起源；由来；衍生；导出v.得到( derive的过去式和过去分词 )；（从…中）得到获得；源于；（从…中）提取 | |
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80
tinge
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| vt.(较淡)着色于，染色；使带有…气息；n.淡淡色彩，些微的气息 | |
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81
triumphantly
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| ad.得意洋洋地；得胜地；成功地 | |
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82
amiably
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| adv.和蔼可亲地，亲切地 | |
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83
hideous
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| adj.丑陋的，可憎的，可怕的，恐怖的 | |
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84
tinges
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| n.细微的色彩，一丝痕迹( tinge的名词复数 ) | |
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85
humbly
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| adv. 恭顺地，谦卑地 | |
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86
corked
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| adj.带木塞气味的，塞着瓶塞的v.用瓶塞塞住( cork的过去式 ) | |
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87
bent
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| n.爱好，癖好；adj.弯的；决心的，一心的 | |
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88
desperately
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| adv.极度渴望地，绝望地，孤注一掷地 | |
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89
implored
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| 恳求或乞求（某人）( implore的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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90
exasperated
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| adj.恼怒的 | |
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91
curiously
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| adv.有求知欲地；好问地；奇特地 | |
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92
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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93
wriggling
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| v.扭动，蠕动，蜿蜒行进( wriggle的现在分词 )；（使身体某一部位）扭动；耍滑不做，逃避（应做的事等）；蠕蠕 | |
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94
writhing
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| （因极度痛苦而）扭动或翻滚( writhe的现在分词 ) | |
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95
simplicity
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| n.简单，简易；朴素；直率，单纯 | |
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96
tact
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| n.机敏，圆滑，得体 | |
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97
awfully
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| adv.可怕地，非常地，极端地 | |
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98
ranch
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| n.大牧场，大农场 | |
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99
civilian
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| adj.平民的，民用的，民众的 | |
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100
mumbled
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| 含糊地说某事，叽咕，咕哝( mumble的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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101
jack
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| n.插座，千斤顶，男人；v.抬起，提醒，扛举；n.（Jake）杰克 | |
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102
recollect
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| v.回忆，想起，记起，忆起，记得 | |
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103
blizzard
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| n.暴风雪 | |
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104
entirely
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| ad.全部地，完整地；完全地，彻底地 | |
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105
indifference
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| n.不感兴趣，不关心，冷淡，不在乎 | |
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106
negligently
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107
picturesque
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| adj.美丽如画的，（语言）生动的，绘声绘色的 | |
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108
heed
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| v.注意，留意；n.注意，留心 | |
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109
enlisted
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| adj.应募入伍的v.（使）入伍， （使）参军( enlist的过去式和过去分词 )；获得（帮助或支持） | |
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110
lingo
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| n.语言不知所云，外国话，隐语 | |
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111
buck
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| n.雄鹿，雄兔；v.马离地跳跃 | |
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112
crook
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| v.使弯曲；n.小偷，骗子，贼；弯曲(处) | |
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113
shrugged
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| vt.耸肩（shrug的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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114
relish
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| n.滋味，享受，爱好，调味品；vt.加调味料，享受，品味；vi.有滋味 | |
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115
hawk
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| n.鹰，骗子；鹰派成员 | |
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116
hesitation
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| n.犹豫，踌躇 | |
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117
owl
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| n.猫头鹰，枭 | |
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118
mound
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| n.土墩，堤，小山；v.筑堤，用土堆防卫 | |
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119
sneer
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| v.轻蔑；嘲笑；n.嘲笑，讥讽的言语 | |
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120
twitched
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| vt.& vi.（使）抽动，（使）颤动（twitch的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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121
hazardous
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| adj.(有)危险的，冒险的；碰运气的 | |
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122
undertaking
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| n.保证，许诺，事业 | |
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123
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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124
devoted
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| adj.忠诚的，忠实的，热心的，献身于...的 | |
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125
sketch
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| n.草图；梗概；素描；v.素描；概述 | |
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126
sketching
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| n.草图 | |
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127
mules
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| 骡( mule的名词复数 )； 拖鞋； 顽固的人； 越境运毒者 | |
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128
accomplished
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| adj.有才艺的；有造诣的；达到了的 | |
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129
succumb
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| v.屈服，屈从；死 | |
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130
opium
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| n.鸦片；adj.鸦片的 | |
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131
erect
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| n./v.树立，建立，使竖立；adj.直立的，垂直的 | |
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132
perfectly
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| adv.完美地，无可非议地，彻底地 | |
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133
impersonal
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| adj.无个人感情的，与个人无关的，非人称的 | |
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134
bunk
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| n.(车、船等倚壁而设的)铺位；废话 | |
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135
irresistible
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| adj.非常诱人的，无法拒绝的，无法抗拒的 | |
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136
considerably
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| adv.极大地；相当大地；在很大程度上 | |
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137
poised
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| a.摆好姿势不动的 | |
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138
shimmering
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| v.闪闪发光，发微光( shimmer的现在分词 ) | |
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139
darted
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| v.投掷，投射( dart的过去式和过去分词 )；向前冲，飞奔 | |
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