“I thought everybody was in. It must be three o’clock!”
“Perhaps it is some one for the doctor,” muttered her husband.
“Third floor, left. But the doctor won’t go out at night.”
“He must go to-night.”
The visitor entered the vestibule, ascended4 to the first floor, the second, the third, and, without stopping at the doctor’s door, he continued to the fifth floor. There, he tried two keys. One of them fitted the lock.
“Ah! good!” he murmured, “that simplifies the business wonderfully. But before I commence work I had better arrange for my retreat. Let me see.... have I had sufficient time to rouse the doctor and be dismissed by him? Not yet.... a few minutes more.”
At the end of ten minutes, he descended6 the stairs, grumbling noisily about the doctor. The concierge opened the door for him and heard it click behind him. But the door did not lock, as the man had quickly inserted a piece of iron in the lock in such a manner that the bolt could not enter. Then, quietly, he entered the house again, unknown to the concierge. In case of alarm, his retreat was assured. Noiselessly, he ascended to the fifth floor once more. In the antechamber, by the light of his electric lantern, he placed his hat and overcoat on one of the chairs, took a seat on another, and covered his heavy shoes with felt slippers8.
“Ouf! Here I am—and how simple it was! I wonder why more people do not adopt the profitable and pleasant occupation of burglar. With a little care and reflection, it becomes a most delightful9 profession. Not too quiet and monotonous10, of course, as it would then become wearisome.”
“Let me commence by locating myself. Here, I see the vestibule in which I am sitting. On the street front, the drawing-room, the boudoir and dining-room. Useless to waste any time there, as it appears that the countess has a deplorable taste.... not a bibelot of any value!...Now, let’s get down to business!... Ah! here is a corridor; it must lead to the bed chambers12. At a distance of three metres, I should come to the door of the wardrobe-closet which connects with the chamber7 of the countess.” He folded his plan, extinguished his lantern, and proceeded down the corridor, counting his distance, thus:
“One metre.... two metres.... three metres....Here is the door....Mon Dieu, how easy it is! Only a small, simple bolt now separates me from the chamber, and I know that the bolt is located exactly one metre, forty-three centimeters, from the floor. So that, thanks to a small incision13 I am about to make, I can soon get rid of the bolt.”
He drew from his pocket the necessary instruments. Then the following idea occurred to him:
“Suppose, by chance, the door is not bolted. I will try it first.”
He turned the knob, and the door opened.
“My brave Lupin, surely fortune favors you....What’s to be done now? You know the situation of the rooms; you know the place in which the countess hides the black pearl. Therefore, in order to secure the black pearl, you have simply to be more silent than silence, more invisible than darkness itself.”
Arsène Lupin was employed fully5 a half-hour in opening the second door—a glass door that led to the countess’ bedchamber. But he accomplished14 it with so much skill and precaution, that even had had the countess been awake, she would not have heard the slightest sound. According to the plan of the rooms, that he holds, he has merely to pass around a reclining chair and, beyond that, a small table close to the bed. On the table, there was a box of letter-paper, and the black pearl was concealed15 in that box. He stooped and crept cautiously over the carpet, following the outlines of the reclining-chair. When he reached the extremity16 of it, he stopped in order to repress the throbbing18 of his heart. Although he was not moved by any sense of fear, he found it impossible to overcome the nervous anxiety that one usually feels in the midst of profound silence. That circumstance astonished him, because he had passed through many more solemn moments without the slightest trace of emotion. No danger threatened him. Then why did his heart throb17 like an alarm-bell? Was it that sleeping woman who affected19 him? Was it the proximity20 of another pulsating21 heart?
He listened, and thought he could discern the rhythmical22 breathing of a person asleep. It gave him confidence, like the presence of a friend. He sought and found the armchair; then, by slow, cautious movements, advanced toward the table, feeling ahead of him with outstretched arm. His right had touched one of the feet of the table. Ah! now, he had simply to rise, take the pearl, and escape. That was fortunate, as his heart was leaping in his breast like a wild beast, and made so much noise that he feared it would waken the countess. By a powerful effort of the will, he subdued23 the wild throbbing of his heart, and was about to rise from the floor when his left hand encountered, lying on the floor, an object which he recognized as a candlestick—an overturned candlestick. A moment later, his hand encountered another object: a clock—one of those small traveling clocks, covered with leather. ———-
Well! What had happened? He could not understand. That candlestick, that clock; why were those articles not in their accustomed places? Ah! what had happened in the dread24 silence of the night?
Suddenly a cry escaped him. He had touched—oh! some strange, unutterable thing! “No! no!” he thought, “it cannot be. It is some fantasy of my excited brain.” For twenty seconds, thirty seconds, he remained motionless, terrified, his forehead bathed with perspiration25, and his fingers still retained the sensation of that dreadful contact.
Making a desperate effort, he ventured to extend his arm again. Once more, his hand encountered that strange, unutterable thing. He felt it. He must feel it and find out what it is. He found that it was hair, human hair, and a human face; and that face was cold, almost icy.
However frightful26 the circumstances may be, a man like Arsène Lupin controls himself and commands the situation as soon as he learns what it is. So, Arsène Lupin quickly brought his lantern into use. A woman was lying before him, covered with blood. Her neck and shoulders were covered with gaping27 wounds. He leaned over her and made a closer examination. She was dead.
“Dead! Dead!” he repeated, with a bewildered air.
He stared at those fixed28 eyes, that grim mouth, that livid flesh, and that blood—all that blood which had flowed over the carpet and congealed29 there in thick, black spots. He arose and turned on the electric lights. Then he beheld30 all the marks of a desperate struggle. The bed was in a state of great disorder31. On the floor, the candlestick, and the clock, with the hands pointing to twenty minutes after eleven; then, further away, an overturned chair; and, everywhere, there was blood, spots of blood and pools of blood.
“And the black pearl?” he murmured.
The box of letter-paper was in its place. He opened it, eagerly. The jewel-case was there, but it was empty.
“Fichtre!” he muttered. “You boasted of your good fortune much too soon, my friend Lupin. With the countess lying cold and dead, and the black pearl vanished, the situation is anything but pleasant. Get out of here as soon as you can, or you may get into serious trouble.”
Yet, he did not move.
“Get out of here? Yes, of course. Any person would, except Arsène Lupin. He has something better to do. Now, to proceed in an orderly way. At all events, you have a clear conscience. Let us suppose that you are the commissary of police and that you are proceeding32 to make an inquiry33 concerning this affair——Yes, but in order to do that, I require a clearer brain. Mine is muddled34 like a ragout.”
The murder of the avenue Hoche is one of those which have recently surprised and puzzled the Parisian public, and, certainly, I should never have mentioned the affair if the veil of mystery had not been removed by Arsène Lupin himself. No one knew the exact truth of the case.
Who did not know—from having met her in the Bois—the fair Léotine Zalti, the once-famous cantatrice, wife and widow of the Count d’Andillot; the Zalti, whose luxury dazzled all Paris some twenty years ago; the Zalti who acquired an European reputation for the magnificence of her diamonds and pearls? It was said that she wore upon her shoulders the capital of several banking36 houses and the gold mines of numerous Australian companies. Skilful37 jewelers worked for Zalti as they had formerly38 wrought39 for kings and queens. And who does not remember the catastrophe40 in which all that wealth was swallowed up? Of all that marvelous collection, nothing remained except the famous black pearl. The black pearl! That is to say a fortune, if she had wished to part with it.
But she preferred to keep it, to live in a commonplace apartment with her companion, her cook, and a man-servant, rather than sell that inestimable jewel. There was a reason for it; a reason she was not afraid to disclose: the black pearl was the gift of an emperor! Almost ruined, and reduced to the most mediocre41 existence, she remained faithful to the companion of her happy and brilliant youth. The black pearl never left her possession. She wore it during the day, and, at night, concealed it in a place known to her alone.
All these facts, being republished in the columns of the public press, served to stimulate42 curiosity; and, strange to say, but quite obvious to those who have the key to the mystery, the arrest of the presumed assassin only complicated the question and prolonged the excitement. Two days later, the newspapers published the following item:
“Information has reached us of the arrest of Victor Danègre, the servant of the Countess d’Andillot. The evidence against him is clear and convincing. On the silken sleeve of his liveried waistcoat, which chief detective Dudouis found in his garret between the mattresses43 of his bed, several spots of blood were discovered. In addition, a cloth-covered button was missing from that garment, and this button was found beneath the bed of the victim.
“It is supposed that, after dinner, in place of going to his own room, Danègre slipped into the wardrobe-closet, and, through the glass door, had seen the countess hide the precious black pearl. This is simply a theory, as yet unverified by any evidence. There is, also, another obscure point. At seven o’clock in the morning, Danègre went to the tobacco-shop on the Boulevard de Courcelles; the concierge and the shop-keeper both affirm this fact. On the other hand, the countess’ companion and cook, who sleep at the end of the hall, both declare that, when they arose at eight o’clock, the door of the antechamber and the door of the kitchen were locked. These two persons have been in the service of the countess for twenty years, and are above suspicion. The question is: How did Danègre leave the apartment? Did he have another key? These are matters that the police will investigate.”
As a matter of fact, the police investigation45 threw no light on the mystery. It was learned that Victor Danègre was a dangerous criminal, a drunkard and a debauchee. But, as they proceeded with the investigation, the mystery deepened and new complications arose. In the first place, a young woman, Mlle. De Sinclèves, the cousin and sole heiress of the countess, declared that the countess, a month before her death, had written a letter to her and in it described the manner in which the black pearl was concealed. The letter disappeared the day after she received it. Who had stolen it?
Again, the concierge related how she had opened the door for a person who had inquired for Doctor Harel. On being questioned, the doctor testified that no one had rung his bell. Then who was that person? And accomplice46?
The theory of an accomplice was thereupon adopted by the press and public, and also by Ganimard, the famous detective.
“Lupin is at the bottom of this affair,” he said to the judge.
“Bah!” exclaimed the judge, “you have Lupin on the brain. You see him everywhere.”
“I see him everywhere, because he is everywhere.”
“Say rather that you see him every time you encounter something you cannot explain. Besides, you overlook the fact that the crime was committed at twenty minutes past eleven in the evening, as is shown by the clock, while the nocturnal visit, mentioned by the concierge, occurred at three o’clock in the morning.”
Officers of the law frequently form a hasty conviction as to the guilt47 of a suspected person, and then distort all subsequent discoveries to conform to their established theory. The deplorable antecedents of Victor Danègre, habitual48 criminal, drunkard and rake, influenced the judge, and despite the fact that nothing new was discovered in corroboration49 of the early clues, his official opinion remained firm and unshaken. He closed his investigation, and, a few weeks later, the trial commenced. It proved to be slow and tedious. The judge was listless, and the public prosecutor50 presented the case in a careless manner. Under those circumstances, Danègre’s counsel had an easy task. He pointed51 out the defects and inconsistencies of the case for the prosecution52, and argued that the evidence was quite insufficient53 to convict the accused. Who had made the key, the indispensable key without which Danègre, on leaving the apartment, could not have locked the door behind him? Who had ever seen such a key, and what had become of it? Who had seen the assassin’s knife, and where is it now?
“In any event,” argued the prisoner’s counsel, “the prosecution must prove, beyond any reasonable doubt, that the prisoner committed the murder. The prosecution must show that the mysterious individual who entered the house at three o’clock in the morning is not the guilty party. To be sure, the clock indicated eleven o’clock. But what of that? I contend, that proves nothing. The assassin could turn the hands of the clock to any hour he pleased, and thus deceive us in regard to the exact hour of the crime.”
He left the prison on Friday about dusk in the evening, weak and depressed55 by his six months’ imprisonment56. The inquisition, the solitude57, the trial, the deliberations of the jury, combined to fill him with a nervous fear. At night, he had been afflicted58 with terrible nightmares and haunted by weird59 visions of the scaffold. He was a mental and physical wreck60.
Under the assumed name of Anatole Dufour, he rented a small room on the heights of Montmartre, and lived by doing odd jobs wherever he could find them. He led a pitiful existence. Three times, he obtained regular employment, only to be recognized and then discharged. Sometimes, he had an idea that men were following him—detectives, no doubt, who were seeking to trap and denounce him. He could almost feel the strong hand of the law clutching him by the collar.
One evening, as he was eating his dinner at a neighboring restaurant, a man entered and took a seat at the same table. He was a person about forty years of age, and wore a frock-coat of doubtful cleanliness. He ordered soup, vegetables, and a bottle of wine. After he had finished his soup, he turned his eyes on Danègre, and gazed at him intently. Danègre winced61. He was certain that this was one of the men who had been following him for several weeks. What did he want? Danègre tried to rise, but failed. His limbs refused to support him. The man poured himself a glass of wine, and then filled Danègre’s glass. The man raised his glass, and said:
“To your health, Victor Danègre.”
“I!....I!.... no, no....I swear to you....”
“You will swear what? That you are not yourself? The servant of the countess?”
“What servant? My name is Dufour. Ask the proprietor63.”
“Yes, Anatole Dufour to the proprietor of this restaurant, but Victor Danègre to the officers of the law.”
“That’s not true! Some one has lied to you.”
The new-comer took a card from his pocket and handed it to Victor, who read on it: “Grimaudan, ex-inspector of the detective force. Private business transacted65.” Victor shuddered66 as he said:
“You are connected with the police?”
“No, not now, but I have a liking67 for the business and I continue to work at it in a manner more—profitable. From time to time I strike upon a golden opportunity—such as your case presents.”
“My case?”
“Yes, yours. I assure you it is a most promising68 affair, provided you are inclined to be reasonable.”
“But if I am not reasonable?”
“Oh! my good fellow, you are not in a position to refuse me anything I may ask.”
“What is it.... you want?” stammered Victor, fearfully.
“Well, I will inform you in a few words. I am sent by Mademoiselle de Sinclèves, the heiress of the Countess d’Andillot.”
“What for?”
“To recover the black pearl.”
“Black pearl?”
“That you stole.”
“But I haven’t got it.”
“You have it.”
“If I had, then I would be the assassin.”
“You are the assassin.”
Danègre showed a forced smile.
“Fortunately for me, monsieur, the Assizecourt was not of your opinion. The jury returned an unanimous verdict of acquittal. And when a man has a clear conscience and twelve good men in his favor—”
The ex-inspector seized him by the arm and said:
“No fine phrases, my boy. Now, listen to me and weigh my words carefully. You will find they are worthy69 of your consideration. Now, Danègre, three weeks before the murder, you abstracted the cook’s key to the servants’ door, and had a duplicate key made by a locksmith named Outard, 244 rue64 Oberkampf.”
“Here it is.”
After a silence, Grimaudan continued:
“You killed the countess with a knife purchased by you at the Bazar de la Republique on the same day as you ordered the duplicate key. It has a triangular71 blade with a groove72 running from end to end.”
“That is all nonsense. You are simply guessing at something you don’t know. No one ever saw the knife.”
“Here it is.”
“Well!.... you have a key and a knife. Who can prove that they belong to me?”
“The locksmith, and the clerk from whom you bought the knife. I have already refreshed their memories, and, when you confront them, they cannot fail to recognize you.”
His speech was dry and hard, with a tone of firmness and precision. Danègre was trembling with fear, and yet he struggled desperately75 to maintain an air of indifference76.
“Is that all the evidence you have?”
“Oh! no, not at all. I have plenty more. For instance, after the crime, you went out the same way you had entered. But, in the centre of the wardrobe-room, being seized by some sudden fear, you leaned against the wall for support.”
“How do you know that? No one could know such a thing,” argued the desperate man.
“The police know nothing about it, of course. They never think of lighting77 a candle and examining the walls. But if they had done so, they would have found on the white plaster a faint red spot, quite distinct, however, to trace in it the imprint78 of your thumb which you had pressed against the wall while it was wet with blood. Now, as you are well aware, under the Bertillon system, thumb-marks are one of the principal means of identification.”
Victor Danègre was livid; great drops of perspiration rolled down his face and fell upon the table. He gazed, with a wild look, at the strange man who had narrated79 the story of his crime as faithfully as if he had been an invisible witness to it. Overcome and powerless, Victor bowed his head. He felt that it was useless to struggle against this marvelous man. So he said:
“How much will you give me, if I give you the pearl?”
“Nothing.”
“Oh! you are joking! Or do you mean that I should give you an article worth thousands and hundreds of thousands and get nothing in return?”
“You will get your life. Is that nothing?”
The unfortunate man shuddered. Then Grimaudan added, in a milder tone:
“Come, Danègre, that pearl has no value in your hands. It is quite impossible for you to sell it; so what is the use of your keeping it?”
“There are pawnbrokers80.... and, some day, I will be able to get something for it.”
“But that day may be too late.”
“Why?”
“Because by that time you may be in the hands of the police, and, with the evidence that I can furnish—the knife, the key, the thumb-mark—what will become of you?”
Victor rested his head on his hands and reflected. He felt that he was lost, irremediably lost, and, at the same time, a sense of weariness and depression overcame him. He murmured, faintly:
“When must I give it to you?”
“To-night—-within an hour.”
“If I refuse?”
“If you refuse, I shall post this letter to the Procureur of the Republic; in which letter Mademoiselle de Sinclèves denounces you as the assassin.”
Danègre poured out two glasses of wine which he drank in rapid succession, then, rising, said:
“Pay the bill, and let us go. I have had enough of the cursed affair.”
Night had fallen. The two men walked down the rue Lepic and followed the exterior81 boulevards in the direction of the Place de l’Etoile. They pursued their way in silence; Victor had a stooping carriage and a dejected face. When they reached the Parc Monceau, he said:
“We are near the house.”
“Parbleu! You only left the house once, before your arrest, and that was to go to the tobacco-shop.”
“Here it is,” said Danègre, in a dull voice.
They passed along the garden wall of the countess’ house, and crossed a street on a corner of which stood the tobacco-shop. A few steps further on, Danègre stopped; his limbs shook beneath him, and he sank to a bench.
“Well! what now?” demanded his companion.
“It is there.”
“Where? Come, now, no nonsense!”
“There—in front of us.”
“Where?”
“Between two paving-stones.”
“Which?”
“Look for it.”
“Which stones?”
Victor made no reply.
“Ah; I see!” exclaimed Grimaudan, “you want me to pay for the information.”
“No.... but....I am afraid I will starve to death.”
“So! that is why you hesitate. Well, I’ll not be hard on you. How much do you want?”
“Enough to buy a steerage pass to America.”
“All right.”
“And a hundred francs to keep me until I get work there.”
“You shall have two hundred. Now, speak.”
“Count the paving-stones to the right from the sewer-hole. The pearl is between the twelfth and thirteenth.”
“Yes, close to the sidewalk.”
Grimaudan glanced around to see if anyone were looking. Some tram-cars and pedestrians83 were passing. But, bah, they will not suspect anything. He opened his pocketknife and thrust it between the twelfth and thirteenth stones.
“And if it is not there?” he said to Victor.
“It must be there, unless someone saw me stoop down and hide it.”
Could it be possible that the back pearl had been cast into the mud and filth84 of the gutter to be picked up by the first comer? The black pearl—a fortune!
“How far down?” he asked.
“About ten centimetres.”
He dug up the wet earth. The point of his knife struck something. He enlarged the hole with his finger. Then he abstracted the black pearl from its filthy85 hiding-place.
“Good! Here are your two hundred francs. I will send you the ticket for America.”
On the following day, this article was published in the ‘Echo de France,’ and was copied by the leading newspapers throughout the world:
“Yesterday, the famous black pearl came into the possession of
Arsène Lupin, who recovered it from the murderer of the Countess
d’Andillot. In a short time, fac-similes of that precious jewel
will be exhibited in London, St. Petersburg, Calcutta, Buenos Ayres
and New York.
“Arsène Lupin will be pleased to consider all propositions
submitted to him through his agents.”
“And that is how crime is always punished and virtue86 rewarded,” said Arsène Lupin, after he had told me the foregoing history of the black pearl.
“And that is how you, under the assumed name of Grimaudan, ex-inspector of detectives, were chosen by fate to deprive the criminal of the benefit of his crime.”
“Exactly. And I confess that the affair gives me infinite satisfaction and pride. The forty minutes that I passed in the apartment of the Countess d’Andillot, after learning of her death, were the most thrilling and absorbing moments of my life. In those forty minutes, involved as I was in a most dangerous plight87, I calmly studied the scene of the murder and reached the conclusion that the crime must have been committed by one of the house servants. I also decided88 that, in order to get the pearl, that servant must be arrested, and so I left the wainscoat button; it was necessary, also, for me to hold some convincing evidence of his guilt, so I carried away the knife which I found upon the floor, and the key which I found in the lock. I closed and locked the door, and erased89 the finger-marks from the plaster in the wardrobe-closet. In my opinion, that was one of those flashes—”
“Of genius,” I said, interrupting.
“Of genius, if you wish. But, I flatter myself, it would not have occurred to the average mortal. To frame, instantly, the two elements of the problem—an arrest and an acquittal; to make use of the formidable machinery90 of the law to crush and humble91 my victim, and reduce him to a condition in which, when free, he would be certain to fall into the trap I was laying for him!”
“Poor devil—”
“Poor devil, do you say? Victor Danègre, the assassin! He might have descended to the lowest depths of vice44 and crime, if he had retained the black pearl. Now, he lives! Think of that: Victor Danègre is alive!”
“And you have the black pearl.”
He took it out of one of the secret pockets of his wallet, examined it, gazed at it tenderly, and caressed92 it with loving fingers, and sighed, as he said:
“What cold Russian prince, what vain and foolish rajah may some day possess this priceless treasure! Or, perhaps, some American millionaire is destined93 to become the owner of this morsel94 of exquisite95 beauty that once adorned96 the fair bosom97 of Leontine Zalti, the Countess d’Andillot.”
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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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concierge
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| n.管理员；门房 | |
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grumbling
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| adj. 喃喃鸣不平的, 出怨言的 | |
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ascended
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| v.上升，攀登( ascend的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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fully
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| adv.完全地，全部地，彻底地；充分地 | |
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descended
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| a.为...后裔的，出身于...的 | |
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chamber
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| n.房间，寝室；会议厅；议院；会所 | |
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slippers
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delightful
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| adj.令人高兴的，使人快乐的 | |
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monotonous
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| adj.单调的，一成不变的，使人厌倦的 | |
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detailed
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| adj.详细的，详尽的，极注意细节的，完全的 | |
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chambers
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| n.房间( chamber的名词复数 )；（议会的）议院；卧室；会议厅 | |
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incision
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| n．切口，切开 | |
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accomplished
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| adj.有才艺的；有造诣的；达到了的 | |
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concealed
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| a.隐藏的，隐蔽的 | |
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extremity
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| n.末端，尽头；尽力；终极；极度 | |
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throb
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| v.震颤，颤动；(急速强烈地)跳动，搏动 | |
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throbbing
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| a. 跳动的,悸动的 | |
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affected
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| adj.不自然的，假装的 | |
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proximity
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pulsating
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| adj.搏动的，脉冲的v.有节奏地舒张及收缩( pulsate的现在分词 )；跳动；脉动；受（激情）震动 | |
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rhythmical
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| adj.有节奏的，有韵律的 | |
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subdued
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| adj. 屈服的，柔和的，减弱的 动词subdue的过去式和过去分词 | |
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dread
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perspiration
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frightful
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| adj.可怕的；讨厌的 | |
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gaping
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| adj.口的；张口的；敞口的；多洞穴的v.目瞪口呆地凝视( gape的现在分词 )；张开，张大 | |
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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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29
congealed
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| v.使凝结，冻结( congeal的过去式和过去分词 )；（指血）凝结 | |
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beheld
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| v.看，注视( behold的过去式和过去分词 )；瞧；看呀；（叙述中用于引出某人意外的出现）哎哟 | |
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disorder
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| n.紊乱，混乱；骚动，骚乱；疾病，失调 | |
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proceeding
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| n.行动，进行，(pl.)会议录，学报 | |
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inquiry
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| n.打听，询问，调查，查问 | |
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muddled
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| 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 | |
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clenched
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| v.紧握，抓紧，咬紧( clench的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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banking
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| n.银行业，银行学，金融业 | |
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skilful
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| (=skillful)adj.灵巧的，熟练的 | |
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formerly
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| adv.从前，以前 | |
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wrought
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| v.引起；以…原料制作；运转；adj.制造的 | |
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catastrophe
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| n.大灾难，大祸 | |
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mediocre
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| adj.平常的，普通的 | |
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stimulate
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| vt.刺激，使兴奋；激励，使…振奋 | |
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mattresses
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| 褥垫，床垫( mattress的名词复数 ) | |
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vice
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| n.坏事；恶习；[pl.]台钳，老虎钳；adj.副的 | |
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investigation
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| n.调查，调查研究 | |
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accomplice
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| n.从犯，帮凶，同谋 | |
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guilt
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| n.犯罪；内疚；过失，罪责 | |
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habitual
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| adj.习惯性的；通常的，惯常的 | |
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corroboration
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| n.进一步的证实，进一步的证据 | |
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prosecutor
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| n.起诉人；检察官，公诉人 | |
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pointed
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| adj.尖的，直截了当的 | |
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prosecution
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| n.起诉，告发，检举，执行，经营 | |
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insufficient
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| adj.(for，of)不足的，不够的 | |
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acquitted
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| 宣判…无罪( acquit的过去式和过去分词 )； 使（自己）作出某种表现 | |
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depressed
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| adj.沮丧的，抑郁的，不景气的，萧条的 | |
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imprisonment
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| n.关押，监禁，坐牢 | |
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solitude
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| n. 孤独; 独居,荒僻之地,幽静的地方 | |
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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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weird
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| adj.古怪的，离奇的；怪诞的，神秘而可怕的 | |
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wreck
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| n.失事，遇难；沉船；vt.(船等)失事，遇难 | |
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winced
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| 赶紧避开，畏缩( wince的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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stammered
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| v.结巴地说出( stammer的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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proprietor
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| n.所有人；业主；经营者 | |
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rue
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| n.懊悔，芸香，后悔；v.后悔，悲伤，懊悔 | |
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transacted
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| v.办理（业务等）( transact的过去式和过去分词 )；交易，谈判 | |
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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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liking
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| n.爱好；嗜好；喜欢 | |
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promising
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| adj.有希望的，有前途的 | |
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worthy
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| adj.(of)值得的，配得上的；有价值的 | |
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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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triangular
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| adj.三角（形）的，三者间的 | |
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groove
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| n.沟，槽；凹线，（刻出的）线条，习惯 | |
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recoiled
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| v.畏缩( recoil的过去式和过去分词 )；退缩；报应；返回 | |
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rust
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| n.锈；v.生锈；(脑子)衰退 | |
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desperately
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| adv.极度渴望地，绝望地，孤注一掷地 | |
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indifference
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| n.不感兴趣，不关心，冷淡，不在乎 | |
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lighting
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| n.照明，光线的明暗，舞台灯光 | |
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78
imprint
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| n.印痕，痕迹；深刻的印象；vt.压印，牢记 | |
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narrated
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| v.故事( narrate的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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pawnbrokers
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| n.当铺老板( pawnbroker的名词复数 ) | |
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81
exterior
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| adj.外部的，外在的；表面的 | |
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82
gutter
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| n.沟，街沟，水槽，檐槽，贫民窟 | |
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pedestrians
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| n.步行者( pedestrian的名词复数 ) | |
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84
filth
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| n.肮脏，污物，污秽；淫猥 | |
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85
filthy
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| adj.卑劣的；恶劣的，肮脏的 | |
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virtue
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| n.德行，美德；贞操；优点；功效，效力 | |
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87
plight
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| n.困境，境况，誓约，艰难；vt.宣誓，保证，约定 | |
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decided
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| adj.决定了的，坚决的；明显的，明确的 | |
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erased
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| v.擦掉( erase的过去式和过去分词 )；抹去；清除 | |
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machinery
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| n.(总称)机械，机器；机构 | |
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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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caressed
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| 爱抚或抚摸…( caress的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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93
destined
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| adj.命中注定的；(for)以…为目的地的 | |
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morsel
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| n.一口，一点点 | |
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95
exquisite
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| adj.精美的；敏锐的；剧烈的，感觉强烈的 | |
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adorned
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| [计]被修饰的 | |
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bosom
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| n.胸，胸部；胸怀；内心；adj.亲密的 | |
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