"What's all this mean?" he growled6 to an equally indigent7 neighbour. There was a clatter8 and clash of harness as carriage after carriage drove up. "This ain't quite Park Lane, guv'nor."
"Anyway, it's the fashion," the other growled hoarsely9. "I ought to know because I used to be one of them before the accursed drink--but that is another story. Ever heard of the Countess Lalage?"
"Oh, that's it. Lovely woman with a romantic history. Rich as thingamy, been proposed to by all the dukes what ain't married already. Read it in one of the evening papers."
Poverty and want were jostling with well dressed content on the pavement. It was one of the strangest and most painful contrasts that can be seen in the richest city in the world. And the contrast was heightened by the meanness of the Corner House.
Black, dark, deserted10, grimy shuttered windows--a suggestion of creeping mystery about it. Time ago the Corner House was the centre of what might have been a thrilling tragedy. Some of the older neighbours could tell of a cry in the night, of the tramping of feet, of a beautiful woman with the poison still in her hand, of the stern, dark husband who said never a word, though the shadow of the scaffold lay heavily upon him.
Since then the Corner House looked down with blank shuttered eyes on the street. None had ever penetrated11 its mystery, nobody had crossed its threshold from that day to this. The stern dark man had disappeared; he had locked up his house and gone, leaving not so much as a caretaker behind.
Strange that this dark, forbidding house should stand cheek by jowl with all that was modern and frivolous12 and fashionable. Even in the garden behind Lytton Avenue the corner house frowned with sightless eyes out of its side windows, eerie13 and creeping in the daytime.
But the heedless throng14 of fashionables recked nothing of this. The Countess Lalage was their latest craze. Who she was or where she came from nobody knew nor cared. She was young and wonderfully beautiful in a dashing Southern way, her equipages were an amazement15 to the park; she must have been immensely rich, or she would never have entertained as she did. There must have been a Count Lalage at one time, for generally a pretty little girl rode with the Countess, and this child was her daughter. The Countess spoke16 casually17 of large South American concessions18 and silver mines, so that Oxford19 Street and Regent Street bowed down and worshipped her.
She had purchased No. 1, Lytton Avenue, just as it stood from an American millionaire who had suddenly tired of Society. Paragraphs in the cheap Society papers stated with awe20 that the sale had been settled in five minutes, so that on the spot this wonderful Countess Lalage had signed a cheque for more than two hundred thousand pounds.
She stood now at the head of the marble staircase, a screen of palms behind her, receiving her guests. If she were an adventuress, as some of the critics hinted, she carried it off wonderfully well. If so she was one of the finest actresses in the world. A black silk dress perfectly21 plain showed off her dark flashing beauty to perfection. She wore a diamond spray and tiara; a deep red rose at her breast looked like a splash of blood. Truly, a magnificent woman!
She had an easy word and a graceful22 speech for every one. An old diplomatist, watching her earnestly, went away muttering that she must be to the manner born. Her smile was so real and caressing23, but it deepened now, and the red lips quivered slightly as a bright-eyed, square-headed young man came up the steps and bowed over her hand.
"So you came, after all, Dr. Bruce?" she said playfully. She pressed his hand gently, her eyes were soft and luminous24 on his face. Any man whose affections had not been pledged elsewhere would have felt his pulses leaping. "Why?"
"Need you ask?" Gordon Bruce said gallantly25. "You are my patroness, you know. Your word is final in everything. And since you declared at a fashionable gathering26 that Dr. Gordon Bruce was the man for nerve-troubles I have found it necessary to hire a second horse."
The dark eyes grew more caressing. A more vain man would have been flattered. To be the husband of Countess Lalage meant much, to be master of all this wealth and splendour meant more. But the quiet elation27 in Bruce's tones was not for the Countess, if she only knew it.
The flowing tide of satin and silks and lace sweeping28 up the staircase swept young Gordon Bruce along. He passed through the glittering rooms faint with the perfume of roses. There was a dim corridor full of flowers and shaded lights. Gordon Bruce looked anxiously about him. A glad light came into his eyes.
点击收听单词发音
1 doorway | |
n.门口,(喻)入门;门路,途径 | |
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2 touching | |
adj.动人的,使人感伤的 | |
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3 sodden | |
adj.浑身湿透的;v.使浸透;使呆头呆脑 | |
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4 drawn | |
v.拖,拉,拔出;adj.憔悴的,紧张的 | |
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5 huddled | |
挤在一起(huddle的过去式与过去分词形式) | |
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6 growled | |
v.(动物)发狺狺声, (雷)作隆隆声( growl的过去式和过去分词 );低声咆哮着说 | |
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7 indigent | |
adj.贫穷的,贫困的 | |
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8 clatter | |
v./n.(使)发出连续而清脆的撞击声 | |
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9 hoarsely | |
adv.嘶哑地 | |
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10 deserted | |
adj.荒芜的,荒废的,无人的,被遗弃的 | |
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11 penetrated | |
adj. 击穿的,鞭辟入里的 动词penetrate的过去式和过去分词形式 | |
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12 frivolous | |
adj.轻薄的;轻率的 | |
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13 eerie | |
adj.怪诞的;奇异的;可怕的;胆怯的 | |
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14 throng | |
n.人群,群众;v.拥挤,群集 | |
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15 amazement | |
n.惊奇,惊讶 | |
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16 spoke | |
n.(车轮的)辐条;轮辐;破坏某人的计划;阻挠某人的行动 v.讲,谈(speak的过去式);说;演说;从某种观点来说 | |
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17 casually | |
adv.漠不关心地,无动于衷地,不负责任地 | |
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18 concessions | |
n.(尤指由政府或雇主给予的)特许权( concession的名词复数 );承认;减价;(在某地的)特许经营权 | |
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19 Oxford | |
n.牛津(英国城市) | |
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20 awe | |
n.敬畏,惊惧;vt.使敬畏,使惊惧 | |
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21 perfectly | |
adv.完美地,无可非议地,彻底地 | |
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22 graceful | |
adj.优美的,优雅的;得体的 | |
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23 caressing | |
爱抚的,表现爱情的,亲切的 | |
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24 luminous | |
adj.发光的,发亮的;光明的;明白易懂的;有启发的 | |
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25 gallantly | |
adv. 漂亮地,勇敢地,献殷勤地 | |
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26 gathering | |
n.集会,聚会,聚集 | |
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27 elation | |
n.兴高采烈,洋洋得意 | |
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28 sweeping | |
adj.范围广大的,一扫无遗的 | |
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