It is night in Lincoln's Inn--perplexed and troublous valley of theshadow of the law, where suitors generally find but little day--andfat candles are snuffed out in offices, and clerks have rattleddown the crazy wooden stairs and dispersed1. The bell that rings atnine o'clock has ceased its doleful clangour about nothing; thegates are shut; and the night-porter, a solemn warder with a mightypower of sleep, keeps guard in his lodge2. From tiers of staircasewindows clogged3 lamps like the eyes of Equity4, bleared Argus with afathomless pocket for every eye and an eye upon it, dimly blink atthe stars. In dirty upper casements5, here and there, hazy6 littlepatches of candlelight reveal where some wise draughtsman andconveyancer yet toils7 for the entanglement8 of real estate in meshesof sheep-skin, in the average ratio of about a dozen of sheep to anacre of land. Over which bee-like industry these benefactors9 oftheir species linger yet, though office-hours be past, that theymay give, for every day, some good account at last.
In the neighbouring court, where the Lord Chancellor10 of the rag andbottle shop dwells, there is a general tendency towards beer andsupper. Mrs. Piper and Mrs. Perkins, whose respective sons,engaged with a circle of acquaintance in the game of hide and seek,have been lying in ambush11 about the by-ways of Chancery Lane forsome hours and scouring12 the plain of the same thoroughfare to theconfusion of passengers--Mrs. Piper and Mrs. Perkins have but nowexchanged congratulations on the children being abed, and theystill linger on a door-step over a few parting words. Mr. Krookand his lodger13, and the fact of Mr. Krook's being "continually inliquor," and the testamentary prospects14 of the young man are, asusual, the staple15 of their conversation. But they have somethingto say, likewise, of the Harmonic Meeting at the Sol's Arms, wherethe sound of the piano through the partly opened windows jinglesout into the court, and where Little Swills16, after keeping thelovers of harmony in a roar like a very Yorick, may now be heardtaking the gruff line in a concerted piece and sentimentallyadjuring his friends and patrons to "Listen, listen, listen, tewthe wa-ter fall!" Mrs. Perkins and Mrs. Piper compare opinions onthe subject of the young lady of professional celebrity17 who assistsat the Harmonic Meetings and who has a space to herself in themanuscript announcement in the window, Mrs. Perkins possessinginformation that she has been married a year and a half, thoughannounced as Miss M. Melvilleson, the noted18 siren, and that herbaby is clandestinely19 conveyed to the Sol's Arms every night toreceive its natural nourishment20 during the entertainments. "Soonerthan which, myself," says Mrs. Perkins, "I would get my living byselling lucifers." Mrs. Piper, as in duty bound, is of the sameopinion, holding that a private station is better than publicapplause, and thanking heaven for her own (and, by implication,Mrs. Perkins') respectability. By this time the pot-boy of theSol's Arms appearing with her supper-pint21 well frothed, Mrs. Piperaccepts that tankard and retires indoors, first giving a fair goodnight to Mrs. Perkins, who has had her own pint in her hand eversince it was fetched from the same hostelry by young Perkins beforehe was sent to bed. Now there is a sound of putting up shop-shutters in the court and a smell as of the smoking of pipes; andshooting stars are seen in upper windows, further indicatingretirement to rest. Now, too, the policeman begins to push atdoors; to try fastenings; to be suspicious of bundles; and toadminister his beat, on the hypothesis that every one is eitherrobbing or being robbed.
It is a close night, though the damp cold is searching too, andthere is a laggard22 mist a little way up in the air. It is a finesteaming night to turn the slaughter-houses, the unwholesometrades, the sewerage, bad water, and burial-grounds to account, andgive the registrar23 of deaths some extra business. It may besomething in the air--there is plenty in it--or it may be somethingin himself that is in fault; but Mr. Weevle, otherwise Jobling, isvery ill at ease. He comes and goes between his own room and theopen street door twenty times an hour. He has been doing so eversince it fell dark. Since the Chancellor shut up his shop, whichhe did very early to-night, Mr. Weevle has been down and up, anddown and up (with a cheap tight velvet24 skull-cap on his head,making his whiskers look out of all proportion), oftener thanbefore.
It is no phenomenon that Mr. Snagsby should be ill at ease too, forhe always is so, more or less, under the oppressive influence ofthe secret that is upon him. Impelled25 by the mystery of which heis a partaker and yet in which he is not a sharer, Mr. Snagsbyhaunts what seems to be its fountain-head--the rag and bottle shopin the court. It has an irresistible26 attraction for him. Evennow, coming round by the Sol's Arms with the intention of passingdown the court, and out at the Chancery Lane end, and soterminating his unpremeditated after-supper stroll of ten minutes'
long from his own door and back again, Mr. Snagsby approaches.
"What, Mr. Weevle?" says the stationer, stopping to speak. "AreYOU there?""Aye!" says Weevle, "Here I am, Mr. Snagsby.""Airing yourself, as I am doing, before you go to bed?" thestationer inquires.
"Why, there's not much air to be got here; and what there is, isnot very freshening," Weevle answers, glancing up and down thecourt.
"Very true, sir. Don't you observe," says Mr. Snagsby, pausing tosniff and taste the air a little, "don't you observe, Mr. Weevle,that you're--not to put too fine a point upon it--that you'rerather greasy27 here, sir?""Why, I have noticed myself that there is a queer kind of flavourin the place to-night," Mr. Weevle rejoins. "I suppose it's chopsat the Sol's Arms.""Chops, do you think? Oh! Chops, eh?" Mr. Snagsby sniffs28 andtastes again. "Well, sir, I suppose it is. But I should say theircook at the Sol wanted a little looking after. She has beenburning 'em, sir! And I don't think"--Mr. Snagsby sniffs andtastes again and then spits and wipes his mouth--"I don't think--not to put too fine a point upon it--that they were quite freshwhen they were shown the gridiron.""That's very likely. It's a tainting29 sort of weather.""It IS a tainting sort of weather," says Mr. Snagsby, "and I findit sinking to the spirits.""By George! I find it gives me the horrors," returns Mr. Weevle.
"Then, you see, you live in a lonesome way, and in a lonesome room,with a black circumstance hanging over it," says Mr. Snagsby,looking in past the other's shoulder along the dark passage andthen falling back a step to look up at the house. "I couldn't livein that room alone, as you do, sir. I should get so fidgety andworried of an evening, sometimes, that I should be driven to cometo the door and stand here sooner than sit there. But then it'svery true that you didn't see, in your room, what I saw there.
That makes a difference.""I know quite enough about it," returns Tony.
"It's not agreeable, is it?" pursues Mr. Snagsby, coughing hiscough of mild persuasion30 behind his hand. "Mr. Krook ought toconsider it in the rent. I hope he does, I am sure.""I hope he does," says Tony. "But I doubt it.""You find the rent too high, do you, sir?" returns the stationer.
"Rents ARE high about here. I don't know how it is exactly, butthe law seems to put things up in price. Not," adds Mr. Snagsbywith his apologetic cough, "that I mean to say a word against theprofession I get my living by."Mr. Weevle again glances up and down the court and then looks atthe stationer. Mr. Snagsby, blankly catching31 his eye, looks upwardfor a star or so and coughs a cough expressive32 of not exactlyseeing his way out of this conversation.
"It's a curious fact, sir," he observes, slowly rubbing his hands,"that he should have been--""Who's he?" interrupts Mr. Weevle.
"The deceased, you know," says Mr. Snagsby, twitching33 his head andright eyebrow34 towards the staircase and tapping his acquaintance onthe button.
"Ah, to be sure!" returns the other as if he were not over-fond ofthe subject. "I thought we had done with him.""I was only going to say it's a curious fact, sir, that he shouldhave come and lived here, and been one of my writers, and then thatyou should come and live here, and be one of my writers too. Whichthere is nothing derogatory, but far from it in the appellation,"says Mr. Snagsby, breaking off with a mistrust that he may haveunpolitely asserted a kind of proprietorship35 in Mr. Weevle,"because I have known writers that have gone into brewers' housesand done really very respectable indeed. Eminently36 respectable,sir," adds Mr. Snagsby with a misgiving37 that he has not improvedthe matter.
"It's a curious coincidence, as you say," answers Weevle, once moreglancing up and down the court.
"Seems a fate in it, don't there?" suggests the stationer.
"There does.""Just so," observes the stationer with his confirmatory cough.
"Quite a fate in it. Quite a fate. Well, Mr. Weevle, I am afraidI must bid you good night"--Mr. Snagsby speaks as if it made himdesolate to go, though he has been casting about for any means ofescape ever since he stopped to speak--"my little woman will belooking for me else. Good night, sir!"If Mr. Snagsby hastens home to save his little woman the trouble oflooking for him, he might set his mind at rest on that score. Hislittle woman has had her eye upon him round the Sol's Arms all thistime and now glides38 after him with a pocket handkerchief wrappedover her head, honourmg Mr. Weevle and his doorway39 with a searchingglance as she goes past.
"You'll know me again, ma'am, at all events," says Mr. Weevle tohimself; "and I can't compliment you on your appearance, whoeveryou are, with your head tied up in a bundle. Is this fellow NEVERcoming!"This fellow approaches as he speaks. Mr. Weevle softly holds uphis finger, and draws him into the passage, and closes the streetdoor. Then they go upstairs, Mr. Weevle heavily, and Mr. Guppy(for it is he) very lightly indeed. When they are shut into theback room, they speak low.
"I thought you had gone to Jericho at least instead of cominghere," says Tony.
"Why, I said about ten.""You said about ten," Tony repeats. "Yes, so you did say aboutten. But according to my count, it's ten times ten--it's a hundredo'clock. I never had such a night in my life!""What has been the matter?""That's it!" says Tony. "Nothing has been the matter. But herehave I been stewing40 and fuming41 in this jolly old crib till I havehad the horrors falling on me as thick as hail. THERE'S a blessed-looking candle!" says Tony, pointing to the heavily burning taperon his table with a great cabbage head and a long winding-sheet.
"That's easily improved," Mr. Guppy observes as he takes thesnuffers in hand.
"IS it?" returns his friend. "Not so easily as you think. It hasbeen smouldering like that ever since it was lighted.""Why, what's the matter with you, Tony?" inquires Mr. Guppy,looking at him, snuffers in hand, as he sits down with his elbow onthe table.
"William Guppy," replies the other, "I am in the downs. It's thisunbearably dull, suicidal room--and old Boguey downstairs, Isuppose." Mr. Weevle moodily42 pushes the snuffers-tray from himwith his elbow, leans his head on his hand, puts his feet on thefender, and looks at the fire. Mr. Guppy, observing him, slightlytosses his head and sits down on the other side of the table in aneasy attitude.
"Wasn't that Snagsby talking to you, Tony?""Yes, and he--yes, it was Snagsby," said Mr. Weevle, altering theconstruction of his sentence.
"On business?""No. No business. He was only sauntering by and stopped toprose.""I thought it was Snagsby," says Mr. Guppy, "and thought it as wellthat he shouldn't see me, so I waited till he was gone.""There we go again, William G.!" cried Tony, looking up for aninstant. "So mysterious and secret! By George, if we were goingto commit a murder, we couldn't have more mystery about it!"Mr. Guppy affects to smile, and with the view of changing theconversation, looks with an admiration43, real or pretended, roundthe room at the Galaxy44 Gallery of British Beauty, terminating hissurvey with the portrait of Lady Dedlock over the mantelshelf, inwhich she is represented on a terrace, with a pedestal upon theterrace, and a vase upon the pedestal, and her shawl upon the vase,and a prodigious45 piece of fur upon the shawl, and her arm on theprodigious piece of fur, and a bracelet46 on her arm.
"That's very like Lady Dedlock," says Mr. Guppy. "It's a speakinglikeness.""I wish it was," growls47 Tony, without changing his position. "Ishould have some fashionable conversation, here, then."Finding by this time that his friend is not to be wheedled48 into amore sociable49 humour, Mr. Guppy puts about upon the ill-used tackand remonstrates50 with him.
"Tony," says he, "I can make allowances for lowness of spirits, forno man knows what it is when it does come upon a man better than Ido, and no man perhaps has a better right to know it than a man whohas an unrequited image imprinted51 on his 'eart. But there arebounds to these things when an unoffending party is in question,and I will acknowledge to you, Tony, that I don't think your manneron the present occasion is hospitable52 or quite gentlemanly.""This is strong language, William Guppy," returns Mr. Weevle.
"Sir, it may be," retorts Mr. William Guppy, "but I feel stronglywhen I use it."Mr. Weevle admits that he has been wrong and begs Mr. William Guppyto think no more about it. Mr. William Guppy, however, having gotthe advantage, cannot quite release it without a little moreinjured remonstrance53.
"No! Dash it, Tony," says that gentleman, "you really ought to becareful how you wound the feelings of a man who has an unrequitedimage imprinted on his 'eart and who is NOT altogether happy inthose chords which vibrate to the tenderest emotions. You, Tony,possess in yourself all that is calculated to charm the eye andallure the taste. It is not--happily for you, perhaps, and I maywish that I could say the same--it is not your character to hoveraround one flower. The ole garden is open to you, and your airypinions carry you through it. Still, Tony, far be it from me, I amsure, to wound even your feelings without a cause!"Tony again entreats54 that the subject may be no longer pursued,saying emphatically, "William Guppy, drop it!" Mr. Guppyacquiesces, with the reply, "I never should have taken it up, Tony,of my own accord.""And now," says Tony, stirring the fire, "touching55 this same bundleof letters. Isn't it an extraordinary thing of Krook to haveappointed twelve o'clock to-night to hand 'em over to me?""Very. What did he do it for?""What does he do anything for? HE don't know. Said to-day was hisbirthday and he'd hand 'em over to-night at twelve o'clock. He'llhave drunk himself blind by that time. He has been at it all day.""He hasn't forgotten the appointment, I hope?""Forgotten? Trust him for that. He never forgets anything. I sawhim to-night, about eight--helped him to shut up his shop--and hehad got the letters then in his hairy cap. He pulled it off andshowed 'em me. When the shop was closed, he took them out of hiscap, hung his cap on the chair-back, and stood turning them overbefore the fire. I heard him a little while afterwards, throughthe floor here, humming like the wind, the only song he knows--about Bibo, and old Charon, and Bibo being drunk when he died, orsomething or other. He has been as quiet since as an old ratasleep in his hole.""And you are to go down at twelve?""At twelve. And as I tell you, when you came it seemed to me ahundred.""Tony," says Mr. Guppy after considering a little with his legscrossed, "he can't read yet, can he?""Read! He'll never read. He can make all the letters separately,and he knows most of them separately when he sees them; he has goton that much, under me; but he can't put them together. He's tooold to acquire the knack56 of it now--and too drunk.""Tony," says Mr. Guppy, uncrossing and recrossing his legs, "how doyou suppose he spelt out that name of Hawdon?""He never spelt it out. You know what a curious power of eye hehas and how he has been used to employ himself in copying things byeye alone. He imitated it, evidently from the direction of aletter, and asked me what it meant.""Tony," says Mr. Guppy, uncrossing and recrossing his legs again,"should you say that the original was a man's writing or awoman's?""A woman's. Fifty to one a lady's--slopes a good deal, and the endof the letter 'n,' long and hasty."Mr. Guppy has been biting his thumb-nail during this dialogue,generally changing the thumb when he has changed the cross leg. Ashe is going to do so again, he happens to look at his coat-sleeve.
It takes his attention. He stares at it, aghast.
"Why, Tony, what on earth is going on in this house to-night? Isthere a chimney on fire?""Chimney on fire!""Ah!" returns Mr. Guppy. "See how the soot57's falling. See here,on my arm! See again, on the table here! Confound the stuff, itwon't blow off--smears like black fat!"They look at one another, and Tony goes listening to the door, anda little way upstairs, and a little way downstairs. Comes back andsays it's all right and all quiet, and quotes the remark he latelymade to Mr. Snagsby about their cooking chops at the Sol's Arms.
"And it was then," resumes Mr. Guppy, still glancing withremarkable aversion at the coat-sleeve, as they pursue theirconversation before the fire, leaning on opposite sides of thetable, with their heads very near together, "that he told you ofhis having taken the bundle of letters from his lodger'sportmanteau?""That was the time, sir," answers Tony, faintly adjusting hiswhiskers. "Whereupon I wrote a line to my dear boy, the HonourableWilliam Guppy, informing him of the appointment for to-night andadvising him not to call before, Boguey being a slyboots."The light vivacious58 tone of fashionable life which is usuallyassumed by Mr. Weevle sits so ill upon him to-night that heabandons that and his whiskers together, and after looking over hisshoulder, appears to yield himself up a prey59 to the horrors again.
"You are to bring the letters to your room to read and compare, andto get yourself into a position to tell him all about them. That'sthe arrangement, isn't it, Tony?" asks Mr. Guppy, anxiously bitinghis thumb-nail.
"You can't speak too low. Yes. That's what he and I agreed.""I tell you what, Tony--""You can't speak too low," says Tony once more. Mr. Guppy nods hissagacious head, advances it yet closer, and drops into a whisper.
"I tell you what. The first thing to be done is to make anotherpacket like the real one so that if he should ask to see the realone while it's in my possession, you can show him the dummy60.""And suppose he detects the dummy as soon as he sees it, which withhis biting screw of an eye is about five hundred times more likelythan not," suggests Tony.
"Then we'll face it out. They don't belong to him, and they neverdid. You found that, and you placed them in my hands--a legalfriend of yours--for security. If he forces us to it, they'll beproducible, won't they?""Ye-es," is Mr. Weevle's reluctant admission.
"Why, Tony," remonstrates his friend, "how you look! You don'tdoubt William Guppy? You don't suspect any harm?""I don't suspect anything more than I know, William," returns theother gravely.
"And what do you know?" urges Mr. Guppy, raising his voice alittle; but on his friend's once more warning him, "I tell you, youcan't speak too low," he repeats his question without any sound atall, forming with his lips only the words, "What do you know?""I know three things. First, I know that here we are whispering insecrecy, a pair of conspirators61.""Well!" says Mr. Guppy. "And we had better be that than a pair ofnoodles, which we should be if we were doing anything else, forit's the only way of doing what we want to do. Secondly62?""Secondly, it's not made out to me how it's likely to beprofitable, after all."Mr. Guppy casts up his eyes at the portrait of Lady Dedlock overthe mantelshelf and replies, "Tony, you are asked to leave that tothe honour of your friend. Besides its being calculated to servethat friend in those chords of the human mind which--which need notbe called into agonizing63 vibration64 on the present occasion--yourfriend is no fool. What's that?""It's eleven o'clock striking by the bell of Saint Paul's. Listenand you'll hear all the bells in the city jangling."Both sit silent, listening to the metal voices, near and distant,resounding from towers of various heights, in tones more variousthan their situations. When these at length cease, all seems moremysterious and quiet than before. One disagreeable result ofwhispering is that it seems to evoke65 an atmosphere of silence,haunted by the ghosts of sound--strange cracks and tickings, therustling of garments that have no substance in them, and the treadof dreadful feet that would leave no mark on the sea-sand or thewinter snow. So sensitive the two friends happen to be that theair is full of these phantoms66, and the two look over theirshoulders by one consent to see that the door is shut.
"Yes, Tony?" says Mr. Guppy, drawing nearer to the fire and bitinghis unsteady thumb-nail. "You were going to say, thirdly?""It's far from a pleasant thing to be plotting about a dead man inthe room where he died, especially when you happen to live in it.""But we are plotting nothing against him, Tony.""May be not, still I don't like it. Live here by yourself and seehow YOU like it.""As to dead men, Tony," proceeds Mr. Guppy, evading67 this proposal,"there have been dead men in most rooms.""I know there have, but in most rooms you let them alone, and--andthey let you alone," Tony answers.
The two look at each other again. Mr. Guppy makes a hurried remarkto the effect that they may be doing the deceased a service, thathe hopes so. There is an oppressive blank until Mr. Weevle, bystirring the fire suddenly, makes Mr. Guppy start as if his hearthad been stirred instead.
"Fah! Here's more of this hateful soot hanging about," says he.
"Let us open the window a bit and get a mouthful of air. It's tooclose."He raises the sash, and they both rest on the window-sill, half inand half out of the room. The neighbouring houses are too near toadmit of their seeing any sky without craning their necks andlooking up, but lights in frowsy windows here and there, and therolling of distant carriages, and the new expression that there isof the stir of men, they find to be comfortable. Mr. Guppy,noiselessly tapping on the window-sill, resumes his whisperirig inquite a light-comedy tone.
"By the by, Tony, don't forget old Smallweed," meaning the youngerof that name. "I have not let him into this, you know. Thatgrandfather of his is too keen by half. It runs in the family.""I remember," says Tony. "I am up to all that.""And as to Krook," resumes Mr. Guppy. "Now, do you suppose hereally has got hold of any other papers of importance, as he hasboasted to you, since you have been such allies?"Tony shakes his head. "I don't know. Can't Imagine. If we getthrough this business without rousing his suspicions, I shall bebetter informed, no doubt. How can I know without seeing them,when he don't know himself? He is always spelling out words fromthem, and chalking them over the table and the shop-wall, andasking what this is and what that is; but his whole stock frombeginning to end may easily be the waste-paper he bought it as, foranything I can say. It's a monomania with him to think he ispossessed of documents. He has been going to learn to read themthis last quarter of a century, I should judge, from what he tellsme.""How did he first come by that idea, though? That's the question,"Mr. Guppy suggests with one eye shut, after a little forensicmeditation. "He may have found papers in something he bought,where papers were not supposed to be, and may have got it into hisshrewd head from the manner and place of their concealment68 thatthey are worth something.""Or he may have been taken in, in some pretended bargain. Or hemay have been muddled69 altogether by long staring at whatever he HASgot, and by drink, and by hanging about the Lord Chancellor's Courtand hearing of documents for ever," returns Mr. Weevle.
Mr. Guppy sitting on the window-sill, nodding his head andbalancing all these possibilities in his mind, continuesthoughtfully to tap it, and clasp it, and measure it with his hand,until he hastily draws his hand away.
"What, in the devil's name," he says, "is this! Look at myfingers!"A thick, yellow liquor defiles70 them, which is offensive to thetouch and sight and more offensive to the smell. A stagnant,sickening oil with some natural repulsion in it that makes themboth shudder71.
"What have you been doing here? What have you been pouring out ofwindow?""I pouring out of window! Nothing, I swear! Never, since I havebeen here!" cries the lodger.
And yet look here--and look here! When he brings the candle here,from the corner of the window-sill, it slowly drips and creeps awaydown the bricks, here lies in a little thick nauseous pool.
"This is a horrible house," says Mr. Guppy, shutting down thewindow. "Give me some water or I shall cut my hand off."He so washes, and rubs, and scrubs, and smells, and washes, that hehas not long restored himself with a glass of brandy and stoodsilently before the fire when Saint Paul's bell strikes twelve andall those other bells strike twelve from their towers of variousheights in the dark air, and in their many tones. When all isquiet again, the lodger says, "It's the appointed time at last.
Shall I go?"Mr. Guppy nods and gives him a "lucky touch" on the back, but notwith the washed hand, though it is his right hand.
He goes downstairs, and Mr. Guppy tries to compose himself beforethe fire for waiting a long time. But in no more than a minute ortwo the stairs creak and Tony comes swiftly back.
"Have you got them?""Got them! No. The old man's not there."He has been so horribly frightened in the short interval72 that histerror seizes the other, who makes a rush at him and asks loudly,"What's the matter?""I couldn't make him hear, and I softly opened the door and lookedin. And the burning smell is there--and the soot is there, and theoil is there--and he is not there!" Tony ends this with a groan73.
Mr. Guppy takes the light. They go down, more dead than alive, andholding one another, push open the door of the back shop. The cathas retreated close to it and stands snarling74, not at them, atsomething on the ground before the fire. There is a very littlefire left in the grate, but there is a smouldering, suffocatingvapour in the room and a dark, greasy coating on the walls andceiling. The chairs and table, and the bottle so rarely absentfrom the table, all stand as usual. On one chair-back hang the oldman's hairy cap and coat.
"Look!" whispers the lodger, pointing his friend's attention tothese objects with a trembling finger. "I told you so. When I sawhim last, he took his cap off, took out the little bundle of oldletters, hung his cap on the back of the chair--his coat was therealready, for he had pulled that off before he went to put theshutters up--and I left him turning the letters over in his hand,standing just where that crumbled75 black thing is upon the floor."Is he hanging somewhere? They look up. No.
"See!" whispers Tony. "At the foot of the same chair there lies adirty bit of thin red cord that they tie up pens with. That wentround the letters. He undid76 it slowly, leering and laughing at me,before he began to turn them over, and threw it there. I saw itfall.""What's the matter with the cat?" says Mr. Guppy. "Look at her!""Mad, I think. And no wonder in this evil place."They advance slowly, looking at all these things. The cat remainswhere they found her, still snarling at the something on the groundbefore the fire and between the two chairs. What is it? Hold upthe light.
Here is a small burnt patch of flooring; here is the tinder from alittle bundle of burnt paper, but not so light as usual, seeming tobe steeped in something; and here is--is it the cinder77 of a smallcharred and broken log of wood sprinkled with white ashes, or is itcoal? Oh, horror, he IS here! And this from which we run away,striking out the light and overturning one another into the street,is all that represents him.
Help, help, help! Come into this house for heaven's sake! Plentywill come in, but none can help. The Lord Chancellor of thatcourt, true to his title in his last act, has died the death of alllord chancellors78 in all courts and of all authorities in all placesunder all names soever, where false pretences79 are made, and whereinjustice is done. Call the death by any name your Highness will,attribute it to whom you will, or say it might have been preventedhow you will, it is the same death eternally--inborn, inbred,engendered in the corrupted80 humours of the vicious body itself, andthat only--spontaneous combustion81, and none other of all the deathsthat can be died.
收听单词发音 |
1
dispersed
|
|
| adj. 被驱散的, 被分散的, 散布的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
2
lodge
|
|
| v.临时住宿，寄宿，寄存，容纳；n.传达室，小旅馆 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
3
clogged
|
|
| （使）阻碍( clog的过去式和过去分词 )； 淤滞 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
4
equity
|
|
| n.公正，公平，（无固定利息的）股票 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
5
casements
|
|
| n.窗扉( casement的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
6
hazy
|
|
| adj.有薄雾的，朦胧的；不肯定的，模糊的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
7
toils
|
|
| 网 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
8
entanglement
|
|
| n.纠缠，牵累 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
9
benefactors
|
|
| n.捐助者，施主( benefactor的名词复数 )；恩人 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
10
chancellor
|
|
| n.(英)大臣；法官；(德、奥)总理；大学校长 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
11
ambush
|
|
| n.埋伏(地点)；伏兵；v.埋伏；伏击 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
12
scouring
|
|
| 擦[洗]净，冲刷，洗涤 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
13
lodger
|
|
| n.寄宿人，房客 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
14
prospects
|
|
| n.希望，前途(恒为复数) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
15
staple
|
|
| n.主要产物，常用品，主要要素，原料，订书钉，钩环；adj.主要的，重要的；vt.分类 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
16
swills
|
|
| v.冲洗( swill的第三人称单数 )；猛喝；大口喝；（使）液体流动 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
17
celebrity
|
|
| n.名人，名流；著名，名声，名望 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
18
noted
|
|
| adj.著名的，知名的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
19
clandestinely
|
|
| adv.秘密地，暗中地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
20
nourishment
|
|
| n.食物，营养品；营养情况 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
21
pint
|
|
| n.品脱 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
22
laggard
|
|
| n.落后者；adj.缓慢的，落后的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
23
registrar
|
|
| n.记录员，登记员；(大学的)注册主任 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
24
velvet
|
|
| n.丝绒，天鹅绒；adj.丝绒制的，柔软的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
25
impelled
|
|
| v.推动、推进或敦促某人做某事( impel的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
26
irresistible
|
|
| adj.非常诱人的，无法拒绝的，无法抗拒的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
27
greasy
|
|
| adj. 多脂的，油脂的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
28
sniffs
|
|
| v.以鼻吸气，嗅，闻( sniff的第三人称单数 )；抽鼻子（尤指哭泣、患感冒等时出声地用鼻子吸气）；抱怨，不以为然地说 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
29
tainting
|
|
| v.使变质( taint的现在分词 )；使污染；败坏；被污染，腐坏，败坏 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
|
30
persuasion
|
|
| n.劝说；说服；持有某种信仰的宗派 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
31
catching
|
|
| adj.易传染的，有魅力的，迷人的，接住 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
32
expressive
|
|
| adj.表现的，表达…的，富于表情的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
33
twitching
|
|
| n.颤搐 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
34
eyebrow
|
|
| n.眉毛，眉 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
35
proprietorship
|
|
| n.所有（权）；所有权 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
36
eminently
|
|
| adv.突出地；显著地；不寻常地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
37
misgiving
|
|
| n.疑虑，担忧，害怕 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
38
glides
|
|
| n.滑行( glide的名词复数 )；滑音；音渡；过渡音v.滑动( glide的第三人称单数 )；掠过；（鸟或飞机 ） 滑翔 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
39
doorway
|
|
| n.门口，(喻)入门；门路，途径 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
40
stewing
|
|
| 炖 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
41
fuming
|
|
| 愤怒( fume的现在分词 )； 大怒； 发怒； 冒烟 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
42
moodily
|
|
| adv.喜怒无常地；情绪多变地；心情不稳地；易生气地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
43
admiration
|
|
| n.钦佩，赞美，羡慕 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
44
galaxy
|
|
| n.星系；银河系；一群(杰出或著名的人物) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
45
prodigious
|
|
| adj.惊人的，奇妙的；异常的；巨大的；庞大的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
46
bracelet
|
|
| n.手镯，臂镯 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
47
growls
|
|
| 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 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
48
wheedled
|
|
| v.骗取（某物），哄骗（某人干某事）( wheedle的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
49
sociable
|
|
| adj.好交际的，友好的，合群的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
50
remonstrates
|
|
| v.抗议( remonstrate的第三人称单数 )；告诫 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
|
51
imprinted
|
|
| v.盖印（imprint的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
52
hospitable
|
|
| adj.好客的；宽容的；有利的，适宜的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
53
remonstrance
|
|
| n抗议，抱怨 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
54
entreats
|
|
| 恳求，乞求( entreat的第三人称单数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
55
touching
|
|
| adj.动人的，使人感伤的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
56
knack
|
|
| n.诀窍，做事情的灵巧的，便利的方法 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
57
soot
|
|
| n.煤烟，烟尘；vt.熏以煤烟 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
58
vivacious
|
|
| adj.活泼的，快活的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
59
prey
|
|
| n.被掠食者，牺牲者，掠食；v.捕食，掠夺，折磨 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
60
dummy
|
|
| n.假的东西；(哄婴儿的)橡皮奶头 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
61
conspirators
|
|
| n.共谋者，阴谋家( conspirator的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
62
secondly
|
|
| adv.第二，其次 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
63
agonizing
|
|
| adj.痛苦难忍的；使人苦恼的v.使极度痛苦；折磨(agonize的ing形式) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
64
vibration
|
|
| n.颤动，振动；摆动 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
65
evoke
|
|
| vt.唤起，引起，使人想起 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
66
phantoms
|
|
| n.鬼怪，幽灵( phantom的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
67
evading
|
|
| 逃避( evade的现在分词 )； 避开； 回避； 想不出 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
68
concealment
|
|
| n.隐藏, 掩盖，隐瞒 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
69
muddled
|
|
| adj.混乱的；糊涂的；头脑昏昏然的v.弄乱，弄糟( muddle的过去式)；使糊涂；对付，混日子 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
70
defiles
|
|
| v.玷污( defile的第三人称单数 )；污染；弄脏；纵列行进 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
71
shudder
|
|
| v.战粟，震动，剧烈地摇晃；n.战粟，抖动 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
72
interval
|
|
| n.间隔，间距；幕间休息，中场休息 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
73
groan
|
|
| vi./n.呻吟，抱怨；(发出)呻吟般的声音 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
74
snarling
|
|
| v.（指狗）吠，嗥叫， （人）咆哮( snarl的现在分词 )；咆哮着说，厉声地说 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
75
crumbled
|
|
| （把…）弄碎， （使）碎成细屑( crumble的过去式和过去分词 )； 衰落； 坍塌； 损坏 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
76
Undid
|
|
| v. 解开, 复原 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
77
cinder
|
|
| n.余烬，矿渣 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
78
chancellors
|
|
| 大臣( chancellor的名词复数 )； （某些美国大学的）校长； （德国或奥地利的）总理； （英国大学的）名誉校长 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
79
pretences
|
|
| n.假装( pretence的名词复数 )；作假；自命；自称 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
80
corrupted
|
|
| （使）败坏( corrupt的过去式和过去分词 )； （使）腐化； 引起（计算机文件等的）错误； 破坏 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
81
combustion
|
|
| n.燃烧；氧化；骚动 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
| 欢迎访问英文小说网 |