Mr. George has not far to ride with folded arms upon the box, fortheir destination is Lincoln's Inn Fields. When the driver stopshis horses, Mr. George alights, and looking in at the window, says,"What, Mr. Tulkinghorn's your man, is he?""Yes, my dear friend. Do you know him, Mr. George?""Why, I have heard of him--seen him too, I think. But I don't knowhim, and he don't know me."There ensues the carrying of Mr. Smallweed upstairs, which is doneto perfection with the trooper's help. He is borne into Mr.
Tulkinghorn's great room and deposited on the Turkey rug before thefire. Mr. Tulkinghorn is not within at the present moment but willbe back directly. The occupant of the pew in the hall, having saidthus much, stirs the fire and leaves the triumvirate to warmthemselves.
Mr. George is mightily2 curious in respect of the room. He looks upat the painted ceiling, looks round at the old law-books,contemplates the portraits of the great clients, reads aloud thenames on the boxes.
"'Sir Leicester Dedlock, Baronet,'" Mr. George reads thoughtfully.
"Ha! 'Manor4 of Chesney Wold.' Humph!" Mr. George stands lookingat these boxes a long while--as if they were pictures--and comesback to the fire repeating, "Sir Leicester Dedlock, Baronet, andManor of Chesney Wold, hey?""Worth a mint of money, Mr. George!" whispers GrandfatherSmallweed, rubbing his legs. "Powerfully rich!""Who do you mean? This old gentleman, or the Baronet?""This gentleman, this gentleman.""So I have heard; and knows a thing or two, I'll hold a wager5. Notbad quarters, either," says Mr. George, looking round again. "Seethe6 strong-box yonder!"This reply is cut short by Mr. Tulkinghorn's arrival. There is nochange in him, of course. Rustily7 drest, with his spectacles inhis hand, and their very case worn threadbare. In manner, closeand dry. In voice, husky and low. In face, watchful8 behind ablind; habitually9 not uncensorious and contemptuous perhaps. Thepeerage may have warmer worshippers and faithfuller believers thanMr. Tulkinghorn, after all, if everything were known.
"Good morning, Mr. Smallweed, good morning!" he says as he comesin. "You have brought the sergeant10, I see. Sit down, sergeant."As Mr. Tulkinghorn takes off his gloves and puts them in his hat,he looks with half-closed eyes across the room to where the trooperstands and says within himself perchance, "You'll do, my friend!""Sit down, sergeant," he repeats as he comes to his table, which isset on one side of the fire, and takes his easy-chair. "Cold andraw this morning, cold and raw!" Mr. Tulkinghorn warms before thebars, alternately, the palms and knuckles11 of his hands and looks(from behind that blind which is always down) at the trio sittingin a little semicircle before him.
"Now, I can feel what I am about" (as perhaps he can in twosenses), "Mr. Smallweed." The old gentleman is newly shaken up byJudy to bear his part in the conversation. "You have brought ourgood friend the sergeant, I see.""Yes, sir," returns Mr. Smallweed, very servile to the lawyer'swealth and influence.
"And what does the sergeant say about this business?""Mr. George," says Grandfather Smallweed with a tremulous wave ofhis shrivelled hand, "this is the gentleman, sir."Mr. George salutes12 the gentleman but otherwise sits bolt uprightand profoundly silent--very forward in his chair, as if the fullcomplement of regulation appendages14 for a field-day hung about him.
Mr. Tulkinghorn proceeds, "Well, George--I believe your name isGeorge?""It is so, Sir.""What do you say, George?""I ask your pardon, sir," returns the trooper, "but I should wishto know what YOU say?""Do you mean in point of reward?""I mean in point of everything, sir."This is so very trying to Mr. Smallweed's temper that he suddenlybreaks out with "You're a brimstone beast!" and as suddenly askspardon of Mr. Tulkinghorn, excusing himself for this slip of thetongue by saying to Judy, "I was thinking of your grandmother, mydear.""I supposed, sergeant," Mr. Tulkinghorn resumes as he leans on oneside of his chair and crosses his legs, "that Mr. Smallweed mighthave sufficiently15 explained the matter. It lies in the smallestcompass, however. You served under Captain Hawdon at one time, andwere his attendant in illness, and rendered him many littleservices, and were rather in his confidence, I am told. That isso, is it not?""Yes, sir, that is so," says Mr. George with military brevity.
"Therefore you may happen to have in your possession something--anything, no matter what; accounts, instructions, orders, a letter,anything--in Captain Hawdon's writing. I wish to compare hiswriting with some that I have. If you can give me the opportunity,you shall be rewarded for your trouble. Three, four, five,guineas, you would consider handsome, I dare say.""Noble, my dear friend!" cries Grandfather Smallweed, screwing uphis eyes.
"If not, say how much more, in your conscience as a soldier, youcan demand. There is no need for you to part with the writing,against your inclination--though I should prefer to have it."Mr. George sits squared in exactly the same attitude, looks at thepainted ceiling, and says never a word. The irascible Mr.
Smallweed scratches the air.
"The question is," says Mr. Tulkinghorn in his methodical, subdued,uninterested way, "first, whether you have any of Captain Hawdon'swriting?""First, whether I have any of Captain Hawdon's writing, sir,"repeats Mr. George.
"Secondly17, what will satisfy you for the trouble of producing it?""Secondly, what will satisfy me for the trouble of producing it,sir," repeats Mr. George.
"Thirdly, you can judge for yourself whether it is at all likethat," says Mr. Tulkinghorn, suddenly handing him some sheets ofwritten paper tied together.
"Whether it is at all like that, sir. Just so," repeats Mr.
George.
All three repetitions Mr. George pronounces in a mechanical manner,looking straight at Mr. Tulkinghorn; nor does he so much as glanceat the affidavit18 in Jarndyce and Jarndyce, that has been given tohim for his inspection19 (though he still holds it in his hand), butcontinues to look at the lawyer with an air of troubled meditation20.
"Well?" says Mr. Tulkinghorn. "What do you say?""Well, sir," replies Mr. George, rising erect21 and looking immense,"I would rather, if you'll excuse me, have nothing to do withthis."Mr. Tulkinghorn, outwardly quite undisturbed, demands, "Why not?""Why, sir," returns the trooper. "Except on military compulsion, Iam not a man of business. Among civilians22 I am what they call inScotland a ne'er-do-weel. I have no head for papers, sir. I canstand any fire better than a fire of cross questions. I mentionedto Mr. Smallweed, only an hour or so ago, that when I come intothings of this kind I feel as if I was being smothered23. And thatis my sensation," says Mr. George, looking round upon the company,"at the present moment."With that, he takes three strides forward to replace the papers onthe lawyer's table and three strides backward to resume his formerstation, where he stands perfectly24 upright, now looking at theground and now at the painted ceillhg, with his hands behind him asif to prevent himself from accepting any other document whatever.
Under this provocation25, Mr. Smallweed's favourite adjective ofdisparagement is so close to his tongue that he begins the words"my dear friend" with the monosyllable "brim," thus converting thepossessive pronoun into brimmy and appearing to have an impedimentin his speech. Once past this difficulty, however, he exhorts26 hisdear friend in the tenderest manner not to be rash, but to do whatso eminent27 a gentleman requires, and to do it with a good grace,confident that it must be unobjectionable as well as profitable.
Mr. Tulkinghorn merely utters an occasional sentence, as, "You arethe best judge of your own interest, sergeant." "Take care you dono harm by this." "Please yourself, please yourself." "If youknow what you mean, that's quite enough." These he utters with anappearance of perfect indifference28 as he looks over the papers onhis table and prepares to write a letter.
Mr. George looks distrustfully from the painted ceiling to theground, from the ground to Mr. Smallweed, from Mr. Smallweed to Mr.
Tulkinghorn, and from Mr. Tulkinghorn to the painted ceiling again,often in his perplexity changing the leg on which he rests.
"I do assure you, sir," says Mr. George, "not to say itoffensively, that between you and Mr. Smallweed here, I really ambeing smothered fifty times over. I really am, sir. I am not amatch for you gentlemen. Will you allow me to ask why you want tosee the captain's hand, in the case that I could find any specimenof it?"Mr. Tulkinghorn quietly shakes his head. "No. If you were a manof business, sergeant, you would not need to be informed that thereare confidential29 reasons, very harmless in themselves, for manysuch wants in the profession to which I belong. But if you areafraid of doing any injury to Captain Hawdon, you may set your mindat rest about that.""Aye! He is dead, sir.""IS he?" Mr. Tulkinghorn quietly sits down to write.
"Well, sir," says the trooper, looking into his hat after anotherdisconcerted pause, "I am sorry not to have given you moresatisfaction. If it would be any satisfaction to any one that Ishould be confirmed in my judgment30 that I would rather have nothingto do with this by a friend of mine who has a better head forbusiness than I have, and who is an old soldier, I am willing toconsult with him. I--I really am so completely smothered myself atpresent," says Mr. George, passing his hand hopelessly across hisbrow, "that I don't know but what it might be a satisfaction tome."Mr. Smallweed, hearing that this authority is an old soldier, sostrongly inculcates the expediency31 of the trooper's taking counselwith him, and particularly informing him of its being a question offive guineas or more, that Mr. George engages to go and see him.
Mr. Tulkinghorn says nothing either way.
"I'll consult my friend, then, by your leave, sir," says thetrooper, "and I'll take the liberty of looking in again with thefinal answer in the course of the day. Mr. Smallweed, if you wishto be carried downstairs--""In a moment, my dear friend, in a moment. Will you first let mespeak half a word with this gentleman in private?""Certainly, sir. Don't hurry yourself on my account." The trooperretires to a distant part of the room and resumes his curiousinspection of the boxes, strong and otherwise.
"If I wasn't as weak as a brimstone baby, sir," whispersGrandfather Smallweed, drawing the lawyer down to his level by thelapel of his coat and flashing some half-quenched green fire out ofhis angry eyes, "I'd tear the writing away from him. He's got itbuttoned in his breast. I saw him put it there. Judy saw him putit there. Speak up, you crabbed32 image for the sign of a walking-stick shop, and say you saw him put it there!"This vehement33 conjuration the old gentleman accompanies with such athrust at his granddaughter that it is too much for his strength,and he slips away out of his chair, drawing Mr. Tulkinghorn withhim, until he is arrested by Judy, and well shaken.
"Violence will not do for me, my friend," Mr. Tulkinghorn thenremarks coolly.
"No, no, I know, I know, sir. But it's chafing34 and galling--it's--it's worse than your smattering chattering35 magpie36 of a grandmother,"to the imperturbable37 Judy, who only looks at the fire, "to know hehas got what's wanted and won't give it up. He, not to give it up!
HE! A vagabond! But never mind, sir, never mind. At the most, hehas only his own way for a little while. I have him periodicallyin a vice16. I'll twist him, sir. I'll screw him, sir. If he won'tdo it with a good grace, I'll make him do it with a bad one, sir!
Now, my dear Mr. George," says Grandfather Smallweed, winking38 atthe lawyer hideously39 as he releases him, "I am ready for your kindassistance, my excellent friend!"Mr. Tulkinghorn, with some shadowy sign of amusement manifestingitself through his self-possession, stands on the hearth40-rug withhis back to the fire, watching the disappearance41 of Mr. Smallweedand acknowledging the trooper's parting salute13 with one slight nod.
It is more difficult to get rid of the old gentleman, Mr. Georgefinds, than to bear a hand in carrying him downstairs, for when heis replaced in his conveyance42, he is so loquacious43 on the subjectof the guineas and retains such an affectionate hold of his button--having, in truth, a secret longing44 to rip his coat open and robhim--that some degree of force is necessary on the trooper's partto effect a separation. It is accomplished45 at last, and heproceeds alone in quest of his adviser46.
By the cloisterly Temple, and by Whitefriars (there, not without aglance at Hanging-Sword Alley47, which would seem to be something inhis way), and by Blackfriars Bridge, and Blackfriars Road, Mr.
George sedately48 marches to a street of little shops lying somewherein that ganglion of roads from Kent and Surrey, and of streets fromthe bridges of London, centring in the far-famed elephant who haslost his castle formed of a thousand four-horse coaches to astronger iron monster than he, ready to chop him into mince-meatany day he dares. To one of the little shops in this street, whichis a musician's shop, having a few fiddles49 in the window, and somePan's pipes and a tambourine51, and a triangle, and certain elongatedscraps of music, Mr. George directs his massive tread. And haltingat a few paces from it, as he sees a soldierly looking woman, withher outer skirts tucked up, come forth1 with a small wooden tub, andin that tub commence a-whisking and a-splashing on the margin52 ofthe pavement, Mr. George says to himself, "She's as usual, washinggreens. I never saw her, except upon a baggage-waggon, when shewasn't washing greens!"The subject of this reflection is at all events so occupied inwashing greens at present that she remains53 unsuspicious of Mr.
George's approach until, lifting up herself and her tub togetherwhen she has poured the water off into the gutter54, she finds himstanding near her. Her reception of him is not flattering.
"George, I never see you but I wish you was a hundred mile away!"The trooper, without remarking on this welcome, follows into themusical-instrument shop, where the lady places her tub of greensupon the counter, and having shaken hands with him, rests her armsupon it.
"I never," she says, "George, consider Matthew Bagnet safe a minutewhen you're near him. You are that resfless and that roving--""Yes! I know I am, Mrs. Bagnet. I know I am.""You know you are!" says Mrs. Bagnet. "What's the use of that?
WHY are you?""The nature of the animal, I suppose," returns the trooper good-humouredly.
"Ah!" cries Mrs. Bagnet, something shrilly55. "But what satisfactionwill the nature of the animal be to me when the animal shall havetempted my Mat away from the musical business to New Zealand orAustraley?"Mrs. Bagnet is not at all an ill-looking woman. Rather large-boned, a little coarse in the grain, and freckled56 by the sun andwind which have tanned her hair upon the forehead, but healthy,wholesome, and bright-eyed. A strong, busy, active, honest-facedwoman of from forty-five to fifty. Clean, hardy57, and soeconomically dressed (though substantially) that the only articleof ornament58 of which she stands possessed59 appear's to be herwedding-ring, around which her finger has grown to be so largesince it was put on that it will never come off again until itshall mingle60 with Mrs. Bagnet's dust.
"Mrs. Bagnet," says the trooper, "I am on my parole with you. Matwill get no harm from me. You may trust me so far.""Well, I think I may. But the very looks of you are unsettling,"Mrs. Bagnet rejoins. "Ah, George, George! If you had only settleddown and married Joe Pouch's widow when he died in North America,SHE'D have combed your hair for you.""It was a chance for me, certainly," returns the trooper halflaughingly, half seriously, "but I shall never settle down into arespectable man now. Joe Pouch's widow might have done me good--there was something in her, and something of her--but I couldn'tmake up my mind to it. If I had had the luck to meet with such awife as Mat found!"Mrs. Bagnet, who seems in a virtuous61 way to be under little reservewith a good sort of fellow, but to be another good sort of fellowherself for that matter, receives this compliment by flicking62 Mr.
George in the face with a head of greens and taking her tub intothe little room behind the shop.
"Why, Quebec, my poppet," says George, following, on invitation,into that department. "And little Malta, too! Come and kiss yourBluffy!"These young ladies--not supposed to have been actually christenedby the names applied63 to them, though always so called in the familyfrom the places of their birth in barracks--are respectivelyemployed on three-legged stools, the younger (some five or sixyears old) in learning her letters out of a penny primer, the elder(eight or nine perhaps) in teaching her and sewing with greatassiduity. Both hail Mr. George with acclamations as an old friendand after some kissing and romping64 plant their stools beside him.
"And how's young Woolwich?" says Mr. George.
"Ah! There now!" cries Mrs. Bagnet, turning about from hersaucepans (for she is cooking dinner) with a bright flush on herface. "Would you believe it? Got an engagement at the theayter,with his father, to play the fife in a military piece.""Well done, my godson!" cries Mr. George, slapping his thigh65.
"I believe you!" says Mrs. Bagnet. "He's a Briton. That's whatWoolwich is. A Briton!""And Mat blows away at his bassoon, and you're respectablecivilians one and all," says Mr. George. "Family people. Childrengrowing up. Mat's old mother in Scotland, and your old fathersomewhere else, corresponded with, and helped a little, and--well,well! To be sure, I don't know why I shouldn't be wished a hundredmile away, for I have not much to do with all this!"Mr. George is becoming thoughtful, sitting before the fire in thewhitewashed room, which has a sanded floor and a barrack smell andcontains nothing superfluous66 and has not a visible speck67 of dirt ordust in it, from the faces of Quebec and Malta to the bright tinpots and pannikins upon the dresser shelves--Mr. George is becomingthoughtful, sitting here while Mrs. Bagnet is busy, when Mr. Bagnetand young Woolwich opportunely68 come home. Mr. Bagnet is an ex-artilleryman, tall and upright, with shaggy eyebrows70 and whiskerslike the fibres of a coco-nut, not a hair upon his head, and atorrid complexion71. His voice, short, deep, and resonant72, is not atall unlike the tones of the instrument to which he is devoted73.
Indeed there may be generally observed in him an unbending,unyielding, brass-bound air, as if he were himself the bassoon ofthe human orchestra. Young Woolwich is the type and model of ayoung drummer.
Both father and son salute the trooper heartily74. He saying, in dueseason, that he has come to advise with Mr. Bagnet, Mr. Bagnethospitably declares that he will hear of no business until afterdinner and that his friend shall not partake of his counsel withoutfirst partaking of boiled pork and greens. The trooper yielding tothis invitation, he and Mr. Bagnet, not to embarrass the domesticpreparations, go forth to take a turn up and down the littlestreet, which they promenade75 with measured tread and folded arms,as if it were a rampart.
"George," says Mr. Bagnet. "You know me. It's my old girl thatadvises. She has the head. But I never own to it before her.
Discipline must be maintained. Wait till the greens is off hermind. Then we'll consult. Whatever the old girl says, do--do it!""I intend to, Mat," replies the other. "I would sooner take heropinion than that of a college.""College," returns Mr. Bagnet in short sentences, bassoon-like.
"What college could you leave--in another quarter of the world--with nothing but a grey cloak and an umbrella--to make its way hometo Europe? The old girl would do it to-morrow. Did it once!""You are right," says Mr. George.
"What college," pursues Bagnet, "could you set up in life--with twopenn'orth of white lime--a penn'orth of fuller's earth--a ha'porthof sand--and the rest of the change out of sixpence in money?
That's what the old girl started on. In the present business.""I am rejoiced to hear it's thriving, Mat.""The old girl," says Mr. Bagnet, acquiescing76, "saves. Has astocking somewhere. With money in it. I never saw it. But I knowshe's got it. Wait till the greens is off her mind. Then she'llset you up.""She is a treasure!" exclaims Mr. George.
"She's more. But I never own to it before her. Discipline must bemaintained. It was the old girl that brought out my musicalabilities. I should have been in the artillery69 now but for the oldgirl. Six years I hammered at the fiddle50. Ten at the flute77. Theold girl said it wouldn't do; intention good, but want offlexibility; try the bassoon. The old girl borrowed a bassoon fromthe bandmaster of the Rifle Regiment78. I practised in the trenches79.
Got on, got another, get a living by it!"George remarks that she looks as fresh as a rose and as sound as anapple.
"The old girl," says Mr. Bagnet in reply, "is a thoroughly80 finewoman. Consequently she is like a thoroughly fine day. Gets fineras she gets on. I never saw the old girl's equal. But I never ownto it before her. Discipline must be maintained!"Proceeding81 to converse82 on indifferent matters, they walk up anddown the little street, keeping step and time, until summoned byQuebec and Malta to do justice to the pork and greens, over whichMrs. Bagnet, like a military chaplain, says a short grace. In thedistribution of these comestibles, as in every other householdduty, Mrs. Bagnet developes an exact system, sitting with everydish before her, allotting83 to every portion of pork its own portionof pot-liquor, greens, potatoes, and even mustard, and serving itout complete. Having likewise served out the beer from a can andthus supplied the mess with all things necessary, Mrs. Bagnetproceeds to satisfy her own hunger, which is in a healthy state.
The kit84 of the mess, if the table furniture may be so denominated,is chiefly composed of utensils85 of horn and tin that have done dutyin several parts of the world. Young Woolwich's knife, inparticular, which is of the oyster86 kind, with the additionalfeature of a strong shutting-up movement which frequently balks87 theappetite of that young musician, is mentioned as having gone invarious hands the complete round of foreign service.
The dinner done, Mrs. Bagnet, assisted by the younger branches (whopolish their own cups and platters, knives and forks), makes allthe dinner garniture shine as brightly as before and puts it allaway, first sweeping88 the hearth, to the end that Mr. Bagnet and thevisitor may not be retarded89 in the smoking of their pipes. Thesehousehold cares involve much pattening and counter-pattening in thebackyard and considerable use of a pail, which is finally so happyas to assist in the ablutions of Mrs. Bagnet herself. That oldgirl reappearing by and by, quite fresh, and sitting down to herneedlework, then and only then--the greens being only then to beconsidered as entirely90 off her mind--Mr. Bagnet requests thetrooper to state his case.
This Mr. George does with great discretion91, appearing to addresshimself to Mr. Bagnet, but having an eye solely92 on the old girl allthe time, as Bagnet has himself. She, equally discreet93, busiesherself with her needlework. The case fully3 stated, Mr. Bagnetresorts to his standard artifice94 for the maintenance of discipline.
"That's the whole of it, is it, George?" says he.
"That's the whole of it.""You act according to my opinion?""I shall be guided," replies George, "entirely by it.""Old girl," says Mr. Bagnet, "give him my opinion. You know it.
Tell him what it is."It is that he cannot have too little to do with people who are toodeep for him and cannot be too careful of interference with mattershe does not understand--that the plain rule is to do nothing in thedark, to be a party to nothing underhanded or mysterious, and neverto put his foot where he cannot see the ground. This, in effect,is Mr. Bagnet's opinion, as delivered through the old girl, and itso relieves Mr. George's mind by confirming his own opinion andbanishing his doubts that he composes himself to smoke another pipeon that exceptional occasion and to have a talk over old times withthe whole Bagnet family, according to their various ranges ofexperience.
Through these means it comes to pass that Mr. George does not againrise to his full height in that parlour until the time is drawingon when the bassoon and fife are expected by a British public atthe theatre; and as it takes time even then for Mr. George, in hisdomestic character of Bluffy, to take leave of Quebec and Malta andinsinuate a sponsorial shilling into the pocket of his godson withfelicitations on his success in life, it is dark when Mr. Georgeagain turns his face towards Lincoln's Inn Fields.
"A family home," he ruminates95 as he marches along, "however smallit is, makes a man like me look lonely. But it's well I never madethat evolution of matrimony. I shouldn't have been fit for it. Iam such a vagabond still, even at my present time of life, that Icouldn't hold to the gallery a month together if it was a regularpursuit or if I didn't camp there, gipsy fashion. Come! Idisgrace nobody and cumber96 nobody; that's something. I have notdone that for many a long year!"So he whistles it off and marches on.
Arrived in Lincoln's Inn Fields and mounting Mr. Tulkinghorn'sstair, he finds the outer door closed and the chambers97 shut, butthe trooper not knowing much about outer doors, and the staircasebeing dark besides, he is yet fumbling98 and groping about, hoping todiscover a bell-handle or to open the door for himself, when Mr.
Tulkinghorn comes up the stairs (quietly, of course) and angrilyasks, "Who is that? What are you doing there?""I ask your pardon, sir. It's George. The sergeant.""And couldn't George, the sergeant, see that my door was locked?""Why, no, sir, I couldn't. At any rate, I didn't," says thetrooper, rather nettled99.
"Have you changed your mind? Or are you in the same mind?" Mr.
Tulkinghorn demands. But he knows well enough at a glance.
"In the same mind, sir.""I thought so. That's sufficient. You can go. So you are theman," says Mr. Tulkinghorn, opening his door with the key, "inwhose hiding-place Mr. Gridley was found?""Yes, I AM the man," says the trooper, stopping two or three stairsdown. "What then, sir?""What then? I don't like your associates. You should not haveseen the inside of my door this morning if I had thought of yourbeing that man. Gridley? A threatening, murderous, dangerousfellow."With these words, spoken in an unusually high tone for him, thelawyer goes into his rooms and shuts the door with a thunderingnoise.
Mr. George takes his dismissal in great dudgeon, the greaterbecause a clerk coming up the stairs has heard the last words ofall and evidently applies them to him. "A pretty character tobear," the trooper growls100 with a hasty oath as he stridesdownstairs. "A threatening, murderous, dangerous fellow!" Andlooking up, he sees the clerk looking down at him and marking himas he passes a lamp. This so intensifies101 his dudgeon that for fiveminutes he is in an ill humour. But he whistles that off like therest of it and marches home to the shooting gallery.
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mightily
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fully
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manor
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wager
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seethe
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rustily
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watchful
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habitually
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sergeant
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knuckles
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salutes
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salute
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appendages
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sufficiently
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vice
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secondly
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affidavit
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| n.宣誓书 | |
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19
inspection
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| n.检查，审查，检阅 | |
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meditation
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| n.熟虑，（尤指宗教的）默想，沉思，（pl.）冥想录 | |
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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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civilians
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| 平民，百姓( civilian的名词复数 )； 老百姓 | |
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smothered
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| （使）窒息， （使）透不过气( smother的过去式和过去分词 )； 覆盖； 忍住； 抑制 | |
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24
perfectly
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| adv.完美地，无可非议地，彻底地 | |
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25
provocation
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| n.激怒，刺激，挑拨，挑衅的事物，激怒的原因 | |
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exhorts
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| n.劝勉者，告诫者，提倡者( exhort的名词复数 )v.劝告，劝说( exhort的第三人称单数 ) | |
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eminent
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| adj.显赫的，杰出的，有名的，优良的 | |
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indifference
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| n.不感兴趣，不关心，冷淡，不在乎 | |
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29
confidential
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| adj.秘（机）密的，表示信任的，担任机密工作的 | |
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judgment
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| n.审判；判断力，识别力，看法，意见 | |
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31
expediency
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| n.适宜；方便；合算；利己 | |
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32
crabbed
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| adj.脾气坏的；易怒的；（指字迹）难辨认的；（字迹等）难辨认的v.捕蟹( crab的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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vehement
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| adj.感情强烈的；热烈的；(人)有强烈感情的 | |
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34
chafing
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| n.皮肤发炎v.擦热（尤指皮肤）( chafe的现在分词 )；擦痛；发怒；惹怒 | |
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35
chattering
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| n. （机器振动发出的）咔嗒声，(鸟等)鸣，啁啾 adj. 喋喋不休的，啾啾声的 动词chatter的现在分词形式 | |
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magpie
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| n.喜欢收藏物品的人，喜鹊，饶舌者 | |
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imperturbable
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| adj.镇静的 | |
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38
winking
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| n.瞬眼，目语v.使眼色( wink的现在分词 )；递眼色（表示友好或高兴等）；（指光）闪烁；闪亮 | |
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39
hideously
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| adv.可怕地，非常讨厌地 | |
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40
hearth
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| n.壁炉炉床，壁炉地面 | |
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41
disappearance
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| n.消失，消散，失踪 | |
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42
conveyance
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| n.(不动产等的)转让，让与；转让证书；传送；运送；表达；（正）运输工具 | |
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43
loquacious
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| adj.多嘴的，饶舌的 | |
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44
longing
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| n.（for）渴望 | |
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45
accomplished
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| adj.有才艺的；有造诣的；达到了的 | |
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adviser
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| n.劝告者，顾问 | |
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47
alley
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| n.小巷，胡同；小径，小路 | |
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sedately
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| adv.镇静地，安详地 | |
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49
fiddles
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| n.小提琴( fiddle的名词复数 )；欺诈；（需要运用手指功夫的）细巧活动；当第二把手v.伪造( fiddle的第三人称单数 )；篡改；骗取；修理或稍作改动 | |
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50
fiddle
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| n.小提琴；vi.拉提琴；不停拨弄，乱动 | |
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51
tambourine
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| n.铃鼓，手鼓 | |
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52
margin
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| n.页边空白；差额；余地，余裕；边，边缘 | |
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remains
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| n.剩余物，残留物；遗体，遗迹 | |
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gutter
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| n.沟，街沟，水槽，檐槽，贫民窟 | |
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shrilly
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| 尖声的； 光亮的，耀眼的 | |
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freckled
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| adj.雀斑；斑点；晒斑；（使）生雀斑v.雀斑，斑点( freckle的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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hardy
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| adj.勇敢的，果断的，吃苦的；耐寒的 | |
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ornament
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| v.装饰，美化；n.装饰，装饰物 | |
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possessed
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| adj.疯狂的；拥有的，占有的 | |
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mingle
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| vt.使混合，使相混；vi.混合起来；相交往 | |
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virtuous
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| adj.有品德的，善良的，贞洁的，有效力的 | |
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flicking
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| （尤指用手指或手快速地）轻击( flick的现在分词 )； （用…）轻挥； （快速地）按开关； 向…笑了一下（或瞥了一眼等） | |
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applied
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| adj.应用的；v.应用，适用 | |
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romping
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| adj.嬉戏喧闹的，乱蹦乱闹的v.嬉笑玩闹( romp的现在分词 )；（尤指在赛跑或竞选等中）轻易获胜 | |
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65
thigh
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| n.大腿；股骨 | |
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superfluous
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| adj.过多的，过剩的，多余的 | |
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67
speck
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| n.微粒，小污点，小斑点 | |
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opportunely
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| adv.恰好地，适时地 | |
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69
artillery
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| n.(军)火炮，大炮；炮兵(部队) | |
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70
eyebrows
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| 眉毛( eyebrow的名词复数 ) | |
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71
complexion
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| n.肤色；情况，局面；气质，性格 | |
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72
resonant
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| adj.(声音)洪亮的，共鸣的 | |
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73
devoted
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| adj.忠诚的，忠实的，热心的，献身于...的 | |
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heartily
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| adv.衷心地，诚恳地，十分，很 | |
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75
promenade
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| n./v.散步 | |
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76
acquiescing
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| v.默认，默许( acquiesce的现在分词 ) | |
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77
flute
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| n.长笛；v.吹笛 | |
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78
regiment
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| n.团，多数，管理；v.组织，编成团，统制 | |
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79
trenches
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| 深沟，地沟( trench的名词复数 )； 战壕 | |
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thoroughly
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| adv.完全地，彻底地，十足地 | |
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81
proceeding
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| n.行动，进行，(pl.)会议录，学报 | |
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82
converse
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| vi.谈话，谈天，闲聊；adv.相反的，相反 | |
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83
allotting
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| 分配，拨给，摊派( allot的现在分词 ) | |
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84
kit
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| n.用具包，成套工具；随身携带物 | |
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85
utensils
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| 器具，用具，器皿( utensil的名词复数 )； 器物 | |
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86
oyster
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| n.牡蛎；沉默寡言的人 | |
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87
balks
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| v.畏缩不前，犹豫( balk的第三人称单数 )；（指马）不肯跑 | |
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88
sweeping
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| adj.范围广大的，一扫无遗的 | |
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89
retarded
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| a.智力迟钝的，智力发育迟缓的 | |
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90
entirely
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| ad.全部地，完整地；完全地，彻底地 | |
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91
discretion
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| n.谨慎；随意处理 | |
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92
solely
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| adv.仅仅，唯一地 | |
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93
discreet
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| adj.(言行)谨慎的；慎重的；有判断力的 | |
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94
artifice
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| n.妙计，高明的手段；狡诈，诡计 | |
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95
ruminates
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| v.沉思( ruminate的第三人称单数 )；反复考虑；反刍；倒嚼 | |
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96
cumber
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| v.拖累，妨碍；n.妨害；拖累 | |
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97
chambers
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| n.房间( chamber的名词复数 )；（议会的）议院；卧室；会议厅 | |
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98
fumbling
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| n. 摸索,漏接 v. 摸索,摸弄,笨拙的处理 | |
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99
nettled
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| v.拿荨麻打，拿荨麻刺（nettle的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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100
growls
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| v.（动物）发狺狺声， （雷）作隆隆声( growl的第三人称单数 )；低声咆哮着说 | |
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101
intensifies
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| n.（使）增强， （使）加剧( intensify的名词复数 )v.（使）增强， （使）加剧( intensify的第三人称单数 ) | |
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