The Chien Noir, where Susie Boyd and Margaret generally dined, was the most charming restaurant in the quarter. Downstairs was a public room, where all and sundry1 devoured2 their food, for the little place had a reputation for good cooking combined with cheapness; and the _patron_, a retired4 horse-dealer who had taken to victualling in order to build up a business for his son, was a cheery soul whose loud-voiced friendliness5 attracted custom. But on the first floor was a narrow room, with three tables arranged in a horse-shoe, which was reserved for a small party of English or American painters and a few Frenchmen with their wives. At least, they were so nearly wives, and their manner had such a matrimonial respectability, that Susie, when first she and Margaret were introduced into this society, judged it would be vulgar to turn up her nose. She held that it was prudish6 to insist upon the conventions of Notting Hill in the Boulevard de Montparnasse. The young women who had thrown in their lives with these painters were modest in demeanour and quiet in dress. They were model housewives, who had preserved their self-respect notwithstanding a difficult position, and did not look upon their relation with less seriousness because they had not muttered a few words before _Monsieur le Maire_.
The room was full when Arthur Burdon entered, but Margaret had kept him an empty seat between herself and Miss Boyd. Everyone was speaking at once, in French, at the top of his voice, and a furious argument was proceeding9 on the merit of the later Impressionists. Arthur sat down, and was hurriedly introduced to a lanky10 youth, who sat on the other side of Margaret. He was very tall, very thin, very fair. He wore a very high collar and very long hair, and held himself like an exhausted11 lily.
'He always reminds me of an Aubrey Beardsley that's been dreadfully smudged,' said Susie in an undertone. 'He's a nice, kind creature, but his name is Jagson. He has virtue12 and industry. I haven't seen any of his work, but he has absolutely _no_ talent.'
'How do you know, if you've not seen his pictures?' asked Arthur.
'Oh, it's one of our conventions here that nobody has talent,' laughed Susie. 'We suffer one another personally, but we have no illusions about the value of our neighbour's work.'
'Tell me who everyone is.'
'Well, look at that little bald man in the corner. That is Warren.'
Arthur looked at the man she pointed13 out. He was a small person, with a pate14 as shining as a billiard-ball, and a pointed beard. He had protruding15, brilliant eyes.
'Hasn't he had too much to drink?' asked Arthur frigidly16.
'Much,' answered Susie promptly17, 'but he's always in that condition, and the further he gets from sobriety the more charming he is. He's the only man in this room of whom you'll never hear a word of evil. The strange thing is that he's very nearly a great painter. He has the most fascinating sense of colour in the world, and the more intoxicated18 he is, the more delicate and beautiful is his painting. Sometimes, after more than the usual number of _apéritifs_, he will sit down in a café to do a sketch19, with his hand so shaky that he can hardly hold a brush; he has to wait for a favourable20 moment, and then he makes a jab at the panel. And the immoral21 thing is that each of these little jabs is lovely. He's the most delightful22 interpreter of Paris I know, and when you've seen his sketches--he's done hundreds, of unimaginable grace and feeling and distinction--you can never see Paris in the same way again.'
The little maid who looked busily after the varied23 wants of the customers stood in front of them to receive Arthur's order. She was a hard-visaged creature of mature age, but she looked neat in her black dress and white cap; and she had a motherly way of attending to these people, with a capacious smile of her large mouth which was full of charm.
'I don't mind what I eat,' said Arthur. 'Let Margaret order my dinner for me.'
'It would have been just as good if I had ordered it,' laughed Susie.
They began a lively discussion with Marie as to the merits of the various dishes, and it was only interrupted by Warren's hilarious24 expostulations.
'Marie, I precipitate25 myself at your feet, and beg you to bring me a _poule au riz_.'
'Oh, but give me one moment, _monsieur_,' said the maid.
'Do not pay any attention to that gentleman. His morals are detestable, and he only seeks to lead you from the narrow path of virtue.'
Arthur protested that on the contrary the passion of hunger occupied at that moment his heart to the exclusion26 of all others.
'Marie, you no longer love me,' cried Warren. 'There was a time when you did not look so coldly upon me when I ordered a bottle of white wine.'
The rest of the party took up his complaint, and all besought27 her not to show too hard a heart to the bald and rubicund28 painter.
'_Mais si, je vous aime, Monsieur Warren,_' she cried, laughing, '_Je vous aime tous, tous._'
She ran downstairs, amid the shouts of men and women, to give her orders.
'The other day the Chien Noir was the scene of a tragedy,' said Susie. 'Marie broke off relations with her lover, who is a waiter at Lavenue's, and would have no reconciliation29. He waited till he had a free evening, and then came to the room downstairs and ordered dinner. Of course, she was obliged to wait on him, and as she brought him each dish he expostulated with her, and they mingled30 their tears.'
'She wept in floods,' interrupted a youth with neatly31 brushed hair and fat nose. 'She wept all over our food, and we ate it salt with tears. We besought her not to yield; except for our encouragement she would have gone back to him; and he beats her.'
Marie appeared again, with no signs now that so short a while ago romance had played a game with her, and brought the dishes that had been ordered. Susie seized once more upon Arthur Burdon's attention.
'Now please look at the man who is sitting next to Mr Warren.'
Arthur saw a tall, dark fellow with strongly-marked features, untidy hair, and a ragged32 black moustache.
'That is Mr O'Brien, who is an example of the fact that strength of will and an earnest purpose cannot make a painter. He's a failure, and he knows it, and the bitterness has warped33 his soul. If you listen to him, you'll hear every painter of eminence34 come under his lash35. He can forgive nobody who's successful, and he never acknowledges merit in anyone till he's safely dead and buried.'
'He must be a cheerful companion,' answered Arthur. 'And who is the stout36 old lady by his side, with the flaunting37 hat?'
'That is the mother of Madame Rouge38, the little palefaced woman sitting next to her. She is the mistress of Rouge, who does all the illustrations for _La Semaine_. At first it rather tickled40 me that the old lady should call him _mon gendre_, my son-in-law, and take the irregular union of her daughter with such a noble unconcern for propriety41; but now it seems quite natural.'
The mother of Madame Rouge had the remains42 of beauty, and she sat bolt upright, picking the leg of a chicken with a dignified43 gesture. Arthur looked away quickly, for, catching44 his eye, she gave him an amorous45 glance. Rouge had more the appearance of a prosperous tradesman than of an artist; but he carried on with O'Brien, whose French was perfect, an argument on the merits of Cézanne. To one he was a great master and to the other an impudent46 charlatan47. Each hotly repeated his opinion, as though the mere48 fact of saying the same thing several times made it more convincing.
'Next to me is Madame Meyer,' proceeded Susie. 'She was a governess in Poland, but she was much too pretty to remain one, and now she lives with the landscape painter who is by her side.'
Arthur's eyes followed her words and rested on a cleanshaven man with a large quantity of grey, curling hair. He had a handsome face of a deliberately49 aesthetic50 type and was very elegantly dressed. His manner and his conversation had the flamboyance51 of the romantic thirties. He talked in flowing periods with an air of finality, and what he said was no less just than obvious. The gay little lady who shared his fortunes listened to his wisdom with an admiration52 that plainly flattered him.
Miss Boyd had described everyone to Arthur except young Raggles, who painted still life with a certain amount of skill, and Clayson, the American sculptor53. Raggles stood for rank and fashion at the Chien Noir. He was very smartly dressed in a horsey way, and he walked with bowlegs, as though he spent most of his time in the saddle. He alone used scented54 pomade upon his neat smooth hair. His chief distinction was a greatcoat he wore, with a scarlet55 lining56; and Warren, whose memory for names was defective57, could only recall him by that peculiarity58. But it was understood that he knew duchesses in fashionable streets, and occasionally dined with them in solemn splendour.
Clayson had a vinous nose and a tedious habit of saying brilliant things. With his twinkling eyes, red cheeks, and fair, pointed beard, he looked exactly like a Franz Hals; but he was dressed like the caricature of a Frenchman in a comic paper. He spoke59 English with a Parisian accent.
Miss Boyd was beginning to tear him gaily60 limb from limb, when the door was flung open, and a large person entered. He threw off his cloak with a dramatic gesture.
'Marie, disembarrass me of this coat of frieze61. Hang my sombrero upon a convenient peg62.'
He spoke execrable French, but there was a grandiloquence63 about his vocabulary which set everyone laughing.
'Here is somebody I don't know,' said Susie.
'But I do, at least, by sight,' answered Burdon. He leaned over to Dr Porho?t who was sitting opposite, quietly eating his dinner and enjoying the nonsense which everyone talked. 'Is not that your magician?'
'Oliver Haddo,' said Dr Porho?t, with a little nod of amusement.
The new arrival stood at the end of the room with all eyes upon him. He threw himself into an attitude of command and remained for a moment perfectly64 still.
'You look as if you were posing, Haddo,' said Warren huskily.
'He couldn't help doing that if he tried,' laughed Clayson.
Oliver Haddo slowly turned his glance to the painter.
'I grieve to see, O most excellent Warren, that the ripe juice of the _aperitif_ has glazed65 your sparkling eye.'
'Do you mean to say I'm drunk, sir?'
'In one gross, but expressive66, word, drunk.'
The painter grotesquely67 flung himself back in his chair as though he had been struck a blow, and Haddo looked steadily68 at Clayson.
'How often have I explained to you, O Clayson, that your deplorable lack of education precludes69 you from the brilliancy to which you aspire70?'
For an instant Oliver Haddo resumed his effective pose; and Susie, smiling, looked at him. He was a man of great size, two or three inches more than six feet high; but the most noticeable thing about him was a vast obesity71. His paunch was of imposing72 dimensions. His face was large and fleshy. He had thrown himself into the arrogant73 attitude of Velasquez's portrait of Del Borro in the Museum of Berlin; and his countenance74 bore of set purpose the same contemptuous smile. He advanced and shook hands with Dr Porho?t.
'Hail, brother wizard! I greet in you, if not a master, at least a student not unworthy my esteem76.'
Susie was convulsed with laughter at his pompousness77, and he turned to her with the utmost gravity.
'Madam, your laughter is more soft in mine ears than the singing of Bulbul in a Persian garden.'
Dr Porho?t interposed with introductions. The magician bowed solemnly as he was in turn made known to Susie Boyd, and Margaret, and Arthur Burdon. He held out his hand to the grim Irish painter.
'Well, my O'Brien, have you been mixing as usual the waters of bitterness with the thin claret of Bordeaux?'
'Why don't you sit down and eat your dinner?' returned the other, gruffly.
'Ah, my dear fellow, I wish I could drive the fact into this head of yours that rudeness is not synonymous with wit. I shall not have lived in vain if I teach you in time to realize that the rapier of irony78 is more effective an instrument than the bludgeon of insolence79.'
O'Brien reddened with anger, but could not at once find a retort, and Haddo passed on to that faded, harmless youth who sat next to Margaret.
'Do my eyes deceive me, or is this the Jagson whose name in its inanity80 is so appropriate to the bearer? I am eager to know if you still devote upon the ungrateful arts talents which were more profitably employed upon haberdashery.'
The unlucky creature, thus brutally81 attacked, blushed feebly without answering, and Haddo went on to the Frenchman, Meyer as more worthy75 of his mocking.
'I'm afraid my entrance interrupted you in a discourse82. Was it the celebrated83 harangue84 on the greatness of Michelangelo, or was it the searching analysis of the art of Wagner?'
'We were just going,' said Meyer, getting up with a frown.
'I am desolated85 to lose the pearls of wisdom that habitually86 fall from your cultivated lips,' returned Haddo, as he politely withdrew Madame Meyer's chair.
He sat down with a smile.
'I saw the place was crowded, and with Napoleonic instinct decided87 that I could only make room by insulting somebody. It is cause for congratulation that my gibes88, which Raggles, a foolish youth, mistakes for wit, have caused the disappearance90 of a person who lives in open sin; thereby91 vacating two seats, and allowing me to eat a humble92 meal with ample room for my elbows.'
Marie brought him the bill of fare, and he looked at it gravely.
'I will have a vanilla93 ice, O well-beloved, and a wing of a tender chicken, a fried sole, and some excellent pea-soup.'
'_Bien, un potage, une sole,_ one chicken, and an ice.'
'But why should you serve them in that order rather than in the order I gave you?'
Marie and the two Frenchwomen who were still in the room broke into exclamations94 at this extravagance, but Oliver Haddo waved his fat hand.
'I shall start with the ice, O Marie, to cool the passion with which your eyes inflame95 me, and then without hesitation96 I will devour3 the wing of a chicken in order to sustain myself against your smile. I shall then proceed to a fresh sole, and with the pea-soup I will finish a not unsustaining meal.'
Having succeeded in capturing the attention of everyone in the room, Oliver Haddo proceeded to eat these dishes in the order he had named. Margaret and Burdon watched him with scornful eyes, but Susie, who was not revolted by the vanity which sought to attract notice, looked at him curiously97. He was clearly not old, though his corpulence added to his apparent age. His features were good, his ears small, and his nose delicately shaped. He had big teeth, but they were white and even. His mouth was large, with heavy moist lips. He had the neck of a bullock. His dark, curling hair had retreated from the forehead and temples in such a way as to give his clean-shaven face a disconcerting nudity. The baldness of his crown was vaguely98 like a tonsure99. He had the look of a very wicked, sensual priest. Margaret, stealing a glance at him as he ate, on a sudden violently shuddered100; he affected101 her with an uncontrollable dislike. He lifted his eyes slowly, and she looked away, blushing as though she had been taken in some indiscretion. These eyes were the most curious thing about him. They were not large, but an exceedingly pale blue, and they looked at you in a way that was singularly embarrassing. At first Susie could not discover in what precisely102 their peculiarity lay, but in a moment she found out: the eyes of most persons converge103 when they look at you, but Oliver Haddo's, naturally or by a habit he had acquired for effect, remained parallel. It gave the impression that he looked straight through you and saw the wall beyond. It was uncanny. But another strange thing about him was the impossibility of telling whether he was serious. There was a mockery in that queer glance, a sardonic104 smile upon the mouth, which made you hesitate how to take his outrageous105 utterances106. It was irritating to be uncertain whether, while you were laughing at him, he was not really enjoying an elaborate joke at your expense.
His presence cast an unusual chill upon the party. The French members got up and left. Warren reeled out with O'Brien, whose uncouth107 sarcasms108 were no match for Haddo's bitter gibes. Raggles put on his coat with the scarlet lining and went out with the tall Jagson, who smarted still under Haddo's insolence. The American sculptor paid his bill silently. When he was at the door, Haddo stopped him.
'You have modelled lions at the Jardin des Plantes, my dear Clayson. Have you ever hunted them on their native plains?'
'No, I haven't.'
Clayson did not know why Haddo asked the question, but he bristled109 with incipient110 wrath111.
'Then you have not seen the jackal, gnawing112 at a dead antelope113, scamper114 away in terror when the King of Beasts stalked down to make his meal.'
Clayson slammed the door behind him. Haddo was left with Margaret, and Arthur Burdon, Dr Porho?t, and Susie. He smiled quietly.
'By the way, are _you_ a lion-hunter?' asked Susie flippantly.
He turned on her his straight uncanny glance.
'I have no equal with big game. I have shot more lions than any man alive. I think Jules Gérard, whom the French of the nineteenth century called _Le Tueur de Lions_, may have been fit to compare with me, but I can call to mind no other.'
This statement, made with the greatest calm, caused a moment of silence. Margaret stared at him with amazement116.
'You suffer from no false modesty117,' said Arthur Burdon.
'False modesty is a sign of ill-breeding, from which my birth amply protects me.'
Dr Porho?t looked up with a smile of irony.
'I wish Mr Haddo would take this opportunity to disclose to us the mystery of his birth and family. I have a suspicion that, like the immortal118 Cagliostro, he was born of unknown but noble parents, and educated secretly in Eastern palaces.'
'In my origin I am more to be compared with Denis Zachaire or with Raymond Lully. My ancestor, George Haddo, came to Scotland in the suite119 of Anne of Denmark, and when James I, her consort120, ascended121 the English throne, he was granted the estates in Staffordshire which I still possess. My family has formed alliances with the most noble blood of England, and the Merestons, the Parnabys, the Hollingtons, have been proud to give their daughters to my house.'
'Those are facts which can be verified in works of reference,' said Arthur dryly.
'They can,' said Oliver.
'And the Eastern palaces in which your youth was spent, and the black slaves who waited on you, and the bearded sheikhs who imparted to you secret knowledge?' cried Dr Porho?t.
'I was educated at Eton, and I left Oxford122 in 1896.'
'Would you mind telling me at what college you were?' said Arthur.
'I was at the House.'
'Then you must have been there with Frank Hurrell.'
'Now assistant physician at St Luke's Hospital. He was one of my most intimate friends.'
'I'll write and ask him about you.'
'I'm dying to know what you did with all the lions you slaughtered,' said Susie Boyd.
The man's effrontery123 did not exasperate124 her as it obviously exasperated125 Margaret and Arthur. He amused her, and she was anxious to make him talk.
'They decorate the floors of Skene, which is the name of my place in Staffordshire.' He paused for a moment to light a cigar. 'I am the only man alive who has killed three lions with three successive shots.'
'I should have thought you could have demolished126 them by the effects of your oratory,' said Arthur.
Oliver leaned back and placed his two large hands on the table.
'Burkhardt, a German with whom I was shooting, was down with fever and could not stir from his bed. I was awakened127 one night by the uneasiness of my oxen, and I heard the roaring of lions close at hand. I took my carbine and came out of my tent. There was only the meagre light of the moon. I walked alone, for I knew natives could be of no use to me. Presently I came upon the carcass of an antelope, half-consumed, and I made up my mind to wait for the return of the lions. I hid myself among the boulders128 twenty paces from the prey129. All about me was the immensity of Africa and the silence. I waited, motionless, hour after hour, till the dawn was nearly at hand. At last three lions appeared over a rock. I had noticed, the day before, spoor of a lion and two females.'
'May I ask how you could distinguish the sex?' asked Arthur, incredulously.
'The prints of a lion's fore8 feet are disproportionately larger than those of the hind115 feet. The fore feet and hind feet of the lioness are nearly the same size.'
'Pray go on,' said Susie.
'They came into full view, and in the dim light, as they stood chest on, they appeared as huge as the strange beasts of the Arabian tales. I aimed at the lioness which stood nearest to me and fired. Without a sound, like a bullock felled at one blow, she dropped. The lion gave vent7 to a sonorous130 roar. Hastily I slipped another cartridge131 in my rifle. Then I became conscious that he had seen me. He lowered his head, and his crest132 was erect133. His lifted tail was twitching134, his lips were drawn135 back from the red gums, and I saw his great white fangs136. Living fire flashed from his eyes, and he growled137 incessantly138. Then he advanced a few steps, his head held low; and his eyes were fixed139 on mine with a look of rage. Suddenly he jerked up his tail, and when a lion does this he charges. I got a quick sight on his chest and fired. He reared up on his hind legs, roaring loudly and clawing at the air, and fell back dead. One lioness remained, and through the smoke I saw her spring to her feet and rush towards me. Escape was impossible, for behind me were high boulders that I could not climb. She came on with hoarse140, coughing grunts141, and with desperate courage I fired my remaining barrel. I missed her clean. I took one step backwards142 in the hope of getting a cartridge into my rifle, and fell, scarcely two lengths in front of the furious beast. She missed me. I owed my safety to that fall. And then suddenly I found that she had collapsed143. I had hit her after all. My bullet went clean through her heart, but the spring had carried her forwards. When I scrambled144 to my feet I found that she was dying. I walked back to my camp and ate a capital breakfast.'
Oliver Haddo's story was received with astonished silence. No one could assert that it was untrue, but he told it with a grandiloquence that carried no conviction. Arthur would have wagered145 a considerable sum that there was no word of truth in it. He had never met a person of this kind before, and could not understand what pleasure there might be in the elaborate invention of improbable adventures.
'You are evidently very brave,' he said.
'To follow a wounded lion into thick cover is probably the most dangerous proceeding in the world,' said Haddo calmly. 'It calls for the utmost coolness and for iron nerve.'
The answer had an odd effect on Arthur. He gave Haddo a rapid glance, and was seized suddenly with uncontrollable laughter. He leaned back in his chair and roared. His hilarity146 affected the others, and they broke into peal147 upon peal of laughter. Oliver watched them gravely. He seemed neither disconcerted nor surprised. When Arthur recovered himself, he found Haddo's singular eyes fixed on him.
'Your laughter reminds me of the crackling of thorns under a pot,' he said.
Haddo looked round at the others. Though his gaze preserved its fixity, his lips broke into a queer, sardonic smile.
'It must be plain even to the feeblest intelligence that a man can only command the elementary spirits if he is without fear. A capricious mind can never rule the sylphs, nor a fickle148 disposition149 the undines.'
Arthur stared at him with amazement. He did not know what on earth the man was talking about. Haddo paid no heed150.
'But if the adept151 is active, pliant152, and strong, the whole world will be at his command. He will pass through the storm and no rain shall fall upon his head. The wind will not displace a single fold of his garment. He will go through fire and not be burned.'
Dr Porho?t ventured upon an explanation of these cryptic153 utterances.
'These ladies are unacquainted with the mysterious beings of whom you speak, _cher ami_. They should know that during the Middle Ages imagination peopled the four elements with intelligences, normally unseen, some of which were friendly to man and others hostile. They were thought to be powerful and conscious of their power, though at the same time they were profoundly aware that they possessed154 no soul. Their life depended upon the continuance of some natural object, and hence for them there could be no immortality155. They must return eventually to the abyss of unending night, and the darkness of death afflicted156 them always. But it was thought that in the same manner as man by his union with God had won a spark of divinity, so might the sylphs, gnomes157, undines, and salamanders by an alliance with man partake of his immortality. And many of their women, whose beauty was more than human, gained a human soul by loving one of the race of men. But the reverse occurred also, and often a love-sick youth lost his immortality because he left the haunts of his kind to dwell with the fair, soulless denizens158 of the running streams or of the forest airs.'
'I didn't know that you spoke figuratively,' said Arthur to Oliver Haddo.
The other shrugged159 his shoulders.
'What else is the world than a figure? Life itself is but a symbol. You must be a wise man if you can tell us what is reality.'
'When you begin to talk of magic and mysticism I confess that I am out of my depth.'
'Yet magic is no more than the art of employing consciously invisible means to produce visible effects. Will, love, and imagination are magic powers that everyone possesses; and whoever knows how to develop them to their fullest extent is a magician. Magic has but one dogma, namely, that the seen is the measure of the unseen.'
'Will you tell us what the powers are that the adept possesses?'
'They are enumerated161 in a Hebrew manuscript of the sixteenth century, which is in my possession. The privileges of him who holds in his right hand the Keys of Solomon and in his left the Branch of the Blossoming Almond are twenty-one. He beholds162 God face to face without dying, and converses163 intimately with the Seven Genii who command the celestial164 army. He is superior to every affliction and to every fear. He reigns165 with all heaven and is served by all hell. He holds the secret of the resurrection of the dead, and the key of immortality.'
'If you possess even these you have evidently the most varied attainments,' said Arthur ironically.
'Everyone can make game of the unknown,' retorted Haddo, with a shrug160 of his massive shoulders.
Arthur did not answer. He looked at Haddo curiously. He asked himself whether he believed seriously these preposterous167 things, or whether he was amusing himself in an elephantine way at their expense. His mariner168 was earnest, but there was an odd expression about the mouth, a hard twinkle of the eyes, which seemed to belie166 it. Susie was vastly entertained. It diverted her enormously to hear occult matters discussed with apparent gravity in this prosaic169 tavern170. Dr Porho?t broke the silence.
'Arago, after whom has been named a neighbouring boulevard, declared that doubt was a proof of modesty, which has rarely interfered171 with the progress of science. But one cannot say the same of incredulity, and he that uses the word impossible outside of pure mathematics is lacking in prudence172. It should be remembered that Lactantius proclaimed belief in the existence of antipodes inane173, and Saint Augustine of Hippo added that in any case there could be no question of inhabited lands.'
'That sounds as if you were not quite sceptical, dear doctor,' said Miss Boyd.
'In my youth I believed nothing, for science had taught me to distrust even the evidence of my five senses,' he replied, with a shrug of the shoulders. 'But I have seen many things in the East which are inexplicable174 by the known processes of science. Mr Haddo has given you one definition of magic, and I will give you another. It may be described merely as the intelligent utilization175 of forces which are unknown, contemned176, or misunderstood of the vulgar. The young man who settles in the East sneers177 at the ideas of magic which surround him, but I know not what there is in the atmosphere that saps his unbelief. When he has sojourned for some years among Orientals, he comes insensibly to share the opinion of many sensible men that perhaps there is something in it after all.'
Arthur Burdon made a gesture of impatience178.
'I cannot imagine that, however much I lived in Eastern countries, I could believe anything that had the whole weight of science against it. If there were a word of truth in anything Haddo says, we should be unable to form any reasonable theory of the universe.'
'For a scientific man you argue with singular fatuity,' said Haddo icily, and his manner had an offensiveness which was intensely irritating. 'You should be aware that science, dealing179 only with the general, leaves out of consideration the individual cases that contradict the enormous majority. Occasionally the heart is on the right side of the body, but you would not on that account ever put your stethoscope in any other than the usual spot. It is possible that under certain conditions the law of gravity does not apply, yet you will conduct your life under the conviction that it does so invariably. Now, there are some of us who choose to deal only with these exceptions to the common run. The dull man who plays at Monte Carlo puts his money on the colours, and generally black or red turns up; but now and then zero appears, and he loses. But we, who have backed zero all the time, win many times our stake. Here and there you will find men whose imagination raises them above the humdrum180 of mankind. They are willing to lose their all if only they have chance of a great prize. Is it nothing not only to know the future, as did the prophets of old, but by making it to force the very gates of the unknown?'
Suddenly the bantering181 gravity with which he spoke fell away from him. A singular light came into his eyes, and his voice was hoarse. Now at last they saw that he was serious.
'What should you know of that lust39 for great secrets which consumes me to the bottom of my soul!'
'Anyhow, I'm perfectly delighted to meet a magician,' cried Susie gaily.
'Ah, call me not that,' he said, with a flourish of his fat hands, regaining182 immediately his portentous183 flippancy184. 'I would be known rather as the Brother of the Shadow.'
'I should have thought you could be only a very distant relation of anything so unsubstantial,' said Arthur, with a laugh.
Oliver's face turned red with furious anger. His strange blue eyes grew cold with hatred185, and he thrust out his scarlet lips till he had the ruthless expression of a Nero. The gibe89 at his obesity had caught him on the raw. Susie feared that he would make so insulting a reply that a quarrel must ensure.
'Well, really, if we want to go to the fair we must start,' she said quickly. 'And Marie is dying to be rid of us.'
They got up, and clattered186 down the stairs into the street.
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sundry
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devoured
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| 吞没( devour的过去式和过去分词 )； 耗尽； 津津有味地看； 狼吞虎咽地吃光 | |
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devour
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| v.吞没；贪婪地注视或谛听，贪读；使着迷 | |
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retired
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| adj.隐退的，退休的，退役的 | |
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friendliness
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prudish
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| adj.装淑女样子的，装规矩的，过分规矩的；adv.过分拘谨地 | |
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vent
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| n.通风口，排放口；开衩；vt.表达，发泄 | |
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8
fore
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| adv.在前面；adj.先前的；在前部的；n.前部 | |
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9
proceeding
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| n.行动，进行，(pl.)会议录，学报 | |
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10
lanky
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| adj.瘦长的 | |
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11
exhausted
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| adj.极其疲惫的，精疲力尽的 | |
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12
virtue
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| n.德行，美德；贞操；优点；功效，效力 | |
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13
pointed
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| adj.尖的，直截了当的 | |
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14
pate
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| n.头顶；光顶 | |
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15
protruding
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| v.（使某物）伸出，（使某物）突出( protrude的现在分词 )；凸 | |
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16
frigidly
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| adv.寒冷地；冷漠地；冷淡地；呆板地 | |
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17
promptly
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| adv.及时地，敏捷地 | |
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18
intoxicated
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| 喝醉的，极其兴奋的 | |
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19
sketch
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| n.草图；梗概；素描；v.素描；概述 | |
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20
favourable
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| adj.赞成的，称赞的，有利的，良好的，顺利的 | |
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21
immoral
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| adj.不道德的，淫荡的，荒淫的，有伤风化的 | |
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22
delightful
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| adj.令人高兴的，使人快乐的 | |
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23
varied
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| adj.多样的，多变化的 | |
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24
hilarious
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| adj.充满笑声的，欢闹的；[反]depressed | |
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25
precipitate
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| adj.突如其来的；vt.使突然发生；n.沉淀物 | |
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26
exclusion
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| n.拒绝，排除，排斥，远足，远途旅行 | |
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27
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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28
rubicund
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| adj.(脸色)红润的 | |
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29
reconciliation
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| n.和解，和谐，一致 | |
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30
mingled
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| 混合，混入( mingle的过去式和过去分词 )； 混进，与…交往[联系] | |
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31
neatly
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| adv.整洁地，干净地，灵巧地，熟练地 | |
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32
ragged
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| adj.衣衫褴褛的，粗糙的，刺耳的 | |
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33
warped
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| adj.反常的；乖戾的；（变）弯曲的；变形的v.弄弯，变歪( warp的过去式和过去分词 )；使（行为等）不合情理，使乖戾， | |
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34
eminence
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| n.卓越，显赫；高地，高处；名家 | |
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35
lash
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| v.系牢；鞭打；猛烈抨击；n.鞭打；眼睫毛 | |
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37
flaunting
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| adj.招摇的，扬扬得意的，夸耀的v.炫耀，夸耀( flaunt的现在分词 )；有什么能耐就施展出来 | |
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38
rouge
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| n.胭脂，口红唇膏；v.(在…上)擦口红 | |
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39
lust
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| n.性(淫)欲；渴(欲)望；vi.对…有强烈的欲望 | |
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40
tickled
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| （使）发痒( tickle的过去式和过去分词 )； （使）愉快，逗乐 | |
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41
propriety
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| n.正当行为；正当；适当 | |
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42
remains
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| n.剩余物，残留物；遗体，遗迹 | |
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43
dignified
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| a.可敬的，高贵的 | |
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44
catching
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| adj.易传染的，有魅力的，迷人的，接住 | |
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45
amorous
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| adj.多情的；有关爱情的 | |
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46
impudent
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| adj.鲁莽的，卑鄙的，厚颜无耻的 | |
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47
charlatan
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| n.骗子；江湖医生；假内行 | |
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48
mere
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| adj.纯粹的；仅仅，只不过 | |
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49
deliberately
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| adv.审慎地；蓄意地；故意地 | |
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50
aesthetic
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| adj.美学的，审美的，有美感 | |
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51
flamboyance
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| n.火红；艳丽；炫耀 | |
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52
admiration
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| n.钦佩，赞美，羡慕 | |
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53
sculptor
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| n.雕刻家，雕刻家 | |
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54
scented
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| adj.有香味的；洒香水的；有气味的v.嗅到(scent的过去分词) | |
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55
scarlet
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| n.深红色，绯红色，红衣；adj.绯红色的 | |
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56
lining
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| n.衬里，衬料 | |
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57
defective
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| adj.有毛病的，有问题的，有瑕疵的 | |
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58
peculiarity
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| n.独特性，特色；特殊的东西；怪癖 | |
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59
spoke
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| n.（车轮的）辐条；轮辐；破坏某人的计划；阻挠某人的行动 v.讲，谈（speak的过去式）；说；演说；从某种观点来说 | |
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60
gaily
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| adv.欢乐地，高兴地 | |
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61
frieze
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| n.(墙上的)横饰带，雕带 | |
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62
peg
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| n.木栓，木钉；vt.用木钉钉，用短桩固定 | |
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63
grandiloquence
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| n.夸张之言，豪言壮语，豪语 | |
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64
perfectly
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| adv.完美地，无可非议地，彻底地 | |
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65
glazed
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|
| adj.光滑的，像玻璃的；上过釉的；呆滞无神的v.装玻璃( glaze的过去式)；上釉于，上光；（目光）变得呆滞无神 | |
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66
expressive
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|
| adj.表现的，表达…的，富于表情的 | |
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67
grotesquely
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| adv. 奇异地,荒诞地 | |
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68
steadily
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| adv.稳定地；不变地；持续地 | |
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69
precludes
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| v.阻止( preclude的第三人称单数 )；排除；妨碍；使…行不通 | |
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70
aspire
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| vi.(to，after)渴望，追求，有志于 | |
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71
obesity
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| n.肥胖，肥大 | |
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72
imposing
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| adj.使人难忘的，壮丽的，堂皇的，雄伟的 | |
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73
arrogant
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| adj.傲慢的，自大的 | |
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74
countenance
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| n.脸色，面容；面部表情；vt.支持，赞同 | |
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75
worthy
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| adj.(of)值得的，配得上的；有价值的 | |
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76
esteem
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| n.尊敬，尊重；vt.尊重，敬重；把…看作 | |
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77
pompousness
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| 豪华；傲慢 | |
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78
irony
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| n.反语，冷嘲；具有讽刺意味的事，嘲弄 | |
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79
insolence
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| n.傲慢；无礼；厚颜；傲慢的态度 | |
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80
inanity
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| n.无意义，无聊 | |
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81
brutally
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| adv.残忍地，野蛮地，冷酷无情地 | |
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82
discourse
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| n.论文，演说；谈话；话语；vi.讲述，著述 | |
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83
celebrated
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|
| adj.有名的，声誉卓著的 | |
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84
harangue
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| n.慷慨冗长的训话，言辞激烈的讲话 | |
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85
desolated
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| adj.荒凉的，荒废的 | |
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86
habitually
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| ad.习惯地，通常地 | |
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87
decided
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| adj.决定了的，坚决的；明显的，明确的 | |
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88
gibes
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| vi.嘲笑，嘲弄（gibe的第三人称单数形式） | |
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89
gibe
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| n.讥笑；嘲弄 | |
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90
disappearance
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| n.消失，消散，失踪 | |
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91
thereby
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| adv.因此，从而 | |
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92
humble
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| adj.谦卑的，恭顺的；地位低下的；v.降低，贬低 | |
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93
vanilla
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| n.香子兰，香草 | |
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94
exclamations
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| n.呼喊( exclamation的名词复数 )；感叹；感叹语；感叹词 | |
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95
inflame
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| v.使燃烧；使极度激动；使发炎 | |
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96
hesitation
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| n.犹豫，踌躇 | |
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97
curiously
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| adv.有求知欲地；好问地；奇特地 | |
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98
vaguely
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| adv.含糊地，暖昧地 | |
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99
tonsure
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| n.削发；v.剃 | |
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100
shuddered
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| v.战栗( shudder的过去式和过去分词 )；发抖；（机器、车辆等）突然震动；颤动 | |
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101
affected
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| adj.不自然的，假装的 | |
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102
precisely
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| adv.恰好，正好，精确地，细致地 | |
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103
converge
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| vi.会合；聚集，集中；(思想、观点等)趋近 | |
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104
sardonic
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| adj.嘲笑的，冷笑的，讥讽的 | |
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105
outrageous
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| adj.无理的，令人不能容忍的 | |
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106
utterances
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| n.发声( utterance的名词复数 )；说话方式；语调；言论 | |
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107
uncouth
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| adj.无教养的，粗鲁的 | |
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108
sarcasms
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| n.讥讽，讽刺，挖苦( sarcasm的名词复数 ) | |
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109
bristled
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| adj. 直立的，多刺毛的 动词bristle的过去式和过去分词 | |
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110
incipient
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| adj.起初的，发端的，初期的 | |
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111
wrath
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| n.愤怒，愤慨，暴怒 | |
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112
gnawing
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| a.痛苦的，折磨人的 | |
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113
antelope
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| n.羚羊；羚羊皮 | |
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114
scamper
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| v.奔跑，快跑 | |
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115
hind
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| adj.后面的，后部的 | |
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116
amazement
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| n.惊奇，惊讶 | |
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117
modesty
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| n.谦逊，虚心，端庄，稳重，羞怯，朴素 | |
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118
immortal
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| adj.不朽的；永生的，不死的；神的 | |
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119
suite
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| n.一套(家具)；套房；随从人员 | |
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120
consort
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| v.相伴；结交 | |
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121
ascended
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| v.上升，攀登( ascend的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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122
Oxford
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| n.牛津（英国城市） | |
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123
effrontery
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| n.厚颜无耻 | |
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124
exasperate
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| v.激怒，使（疾病）加剧，使恶化 | |
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125
exasperated
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| adj.恼怒的 | |
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126
demolished
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| v.摧毁( demolish的过去式和过去分词 )；推翻；拆毁（尤指大建筑物）；吃光 | |
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127
awakened
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| v.（使）醒( awaken的过去式和过去分词 )；（使）觉醒；弄醒；（使）意识到 | |
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128
boulders
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| n.卵石( boulder的名词复数 )；巨砾；（受水或天气侵蚀而成的）巨石；漂砾 | |
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129
prey
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| n.被掠食者，牺牲者，掠食；v.捕食，掠夺，折磨 | |
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130
sonorous
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| adj.响亮的，回响的；adv.圆润低沉地；感人地；n.感人，堂皇 | |
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131
cartridge
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| n.弹壳，弹药筒；(装磁带等的)盒子 | |
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132
crest
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| n.顶点；饰章；羽冠；vt.达到顶点；vi.形成浪尖 | |
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133
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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134
twitching
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| n.颤搐 | |
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135
drawn
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| v.拖，拉，拔出；adj.憔悴的，紧张的 | |
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136
fangs
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| n.（尤指狗和狼的）长而尖的牙( fang的名词复数 )；（蛇的）毒牙；罐座 | |
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growled
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| 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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138
incessantly
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| ad.不停地 | |
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fixed
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| adj.固定的，不变的，准备好的；(计算机)固定的 | |
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hoarse
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| adj.嘶哑的，沙哑的 | |
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141
grunts
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| （猪等）作呼噜声( grunt的第三人称单数 )； （指人）发出类似的哼声； 咕哝着说； 石鲈 | |
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142
backwards
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| adv.往回地，向原处，倒，相反，前后倒置地 | |
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143
collapsed
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| adj.倒塌的 | |
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144
scrambled
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| v.快速爬行( scramble的过去式和过去分词 )；攀登；争夺；（军事飞机）紧急起飞 | |
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145
wagered
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| v.在（某物）上赌钱，打赌( wager的过去式和过去分词 )；保证，担保 | |
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146
hilarity
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| n.欢乐；热闹 | |
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147
peal
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| n.钟声；v.鸣响 | |
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148
fickle
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| adj.(爱情或友谊上)易变的，不坚定的 | |
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149
disposition
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| n.性情，性格；意向，倾向；排列，部署 | |
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150
heed
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| v.注意，留意；n.注意，留心 | |
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151
adept
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| adj.老练的，精通的 | |
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152
pliant
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| adj.顺从的；可弯曲的 | |
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153
cryptic
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| adj.秘密的，神秘的，含义模糊的 | |
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154
possessed
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| adj.疯狂的；拥有的，占有的 | |
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155
immortality
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| n.不死，不朽 | |
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156
afflicted
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| 使受痛苦，折磨( afflict的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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157
gnomes
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| n.矮子( gnome的名词复数 )；侏儒；（尤指金融市场上搞投机的）银行家；守护神 | |
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158
denizens
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| n.居民，住户( denizen的名词复数 ) | |
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159
shrugged
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| vt.耸肩（shrug的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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160
shrug
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| v.耸肩(表示怀疑、冷漠、不知等) | |
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161
enumerated
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| v.列举，枚举，数( enumerate的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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162
beholds
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| v.看，注视( behold的第三人称单数 )；瞧；看呀；（叙述中用于引出某人意外的出现）哎哟 | |
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163
converses
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| v.交谈，谈话( converse的第三人称单数 ) | |
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celestial
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| adj.天体的；天上的 | |
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165
reigns
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| n.君主的统治( reign的名词复数 )；君主统治时期；任期；当政期 | |
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166
belie
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| v.掩饰，证明为假 | |
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167
preposterous
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| adj.荒谬的，可笑的 | |
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168
mariner
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| n.水手号不载人航天探测器，海员，航海者 | |
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prosaic
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| adj.单调的，无趣的 | |
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170
tavern
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| n.小旅馆，客栈；小酒店 | |
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171
interfered
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| v.干预( interfere的过去式和过去分词 )；调停；妨碍；干涉 | |
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172
prudence
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| n.谨慎，精明，节俭 | |
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173
inane
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| adj.空虚的，愚蠢的，空洞的 | |
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174
inexplicable
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| adj.无法解释的，难理解的 | |
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175
utilization
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| n.利用，效用 | |
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176
contemned
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| v.侮辱，蔑视( contemn的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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177
sneers
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| 讥笑的表情（言语）( sneer的名词复数 ) | |
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178
impatience
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| n.不耐烦，急躁 | |
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179
dealing
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| n.经商方法，待人态度 | |
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180
humdrum
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| adj.单调的，乏味的 | |
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181
bantering
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| adj.嘲弄的v.开玩笑，说笑，逗乐( banter的现在分词 )；（善意地）取笑，逗弄 | |
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182
regaining
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| 复得( regain的现在分词 )； 赢回； 重回； 复至某地 | |
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183
portentous
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| adj.不祥的，可怕的，装腔作势的 | |
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184
flippancy
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| n.轻率；浮躁；无礼的行动 | |
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185
hatred
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| n.憎恶，憎恨，仇恨 | |
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186
clattered
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| 发出咔哒声（clatter的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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