Such members of the Brashear household as chose to accommodate themselves strictly1 to the hour could have eight o'clock breakfast in the basement dining-room for the modest consideration of thirty cents; thirty-five with special cream-jug. At these gatherings2, usually attended by half a dozen of the lodgers3, matters of local interest were weightily discussed; such as the progress of the subway excavations4, the establishment of a new Italian restaurant in 11th Street, or the calling away of the fourth-floor-rear by the death of an uncle who would perhaps leave him money. To this sedate5 assemblage descended6 one crisp December morning young Wickert, clad in the natty7 outline of a new Bernholz suit, and obviously swollen8 with tidings.
"Whaddya know about the latest?" he flung forth9 upon the coffee-scented air.
"The latest" in young Wickert's compendium11 of speech might be the garments adorning12 his trim person, the current song-hit of a vaudeville13 to which he had recently contributed his critical attention, or some tidbit of purely14 local gossip. Hainer, the plump and elderly accountant, opined that Wickert had received an augmentation of salary, and got an austere15 frown for his sally. Evidently Wickert deemed his news to be of special import; he was quite bloated, conversationally16. He now dallied17 with it.
"Since when have you been taking in disguised millionaires, Mrs. Brashear?"
The presiding genius of the house, divided between professional resentment18 at even so remotely slurring19 an implication (for was not the Grove20 Street house good enough for any millionaire, undisguised!) and human curiosity, requested an explanation.
"I was in Sherry's restaurant last night," said the offhand21 Wickert.
"I didn't read about any fire there," said the jocose22 Hainer, pointing his sally with a wink23 at Lambert, the art-student.
Wickert ignored the gibe24. Such was the greatness of his tidings that he could afford to.
"Our firm was giving a banquet to some buyers and big folks in the trade. Private room upstairs; music, flowers, champagne25 by the case. We do things in style when we do 'em. They sent me up after hours with an important message to our Mr. Webler; he was in charge of arrangements."
"Been promoted to be messenger, ay?" put in Mr. Hainer, chuckling26.
"When I came downstairs," continued the other with only a venomous glance toward the seat of the scorner, "I thought to myself what's the matter with taking a look at the swells28 feeding in the big restaurant. You may not know it, people, but Sherry's is the ree-churchiest place in Nuh Yawk to eat dinner. It's got 'em all beat. So I stopped at the door and took 'em in. Swell27? Oh, you dolls! I stood there trying to work up the nerve to go in and siddown and order a plate of stew29 or something that wouldn't stick me more'n a dollar, just to _say_ I'd been dining at Sherry's, when I looked across the room, and whadda you think?" He paused, leaned forward, and shot out the climactic word, "Banneker!"
"Having his dinner there?" asked the incredulous but fascinated Mrs. Brashear.
"Like he owned the place. Table to himself, against the wall. Waiter fussin' over him like he loved him. And dressed! Oh, Gee30!"
"Did you speak to him?" asked Lambert.
"He spoke31 to me," answered Wickert, dealing32 in subtle distinctions. "He was just finishing his coffee when I sighted him. Gave the waiter haffa dollar. I could see it on the plate. There I was at the door, and he said, 'Why, hello, Wickert. Come and have a liquor.' He pronounced it a queer, Frenchy way. So I said thanks, I'd have a highball."
"Didn't he seem surprised to see you there?" asked Hainer.
Wickert paid an unconscious tribute to good-breeding. "Banneker's the kind of feller that wouldn't show it if he was surprised. He couldn't have been as surprised as I was, at that. We went to the bar and had a drink, and then I ast him what'd _he_, have on _me_, and all the time I was sizing him up. I'm telling you, he looked like he'd grown up in Sherry's."
The rest of the conversation, it appeared from Mr. Wickert's spirited sketch33, had consisted mainly in eager queries34 from himself, and good-humored replies by the other.
Did Banneker eat there every night?
Oh, no! He wasn't up to that much of a strain on his finances.
But the waiters seemed to know him, as if he was one of the regulars.
In a sense he was. Every Monday he dined there. Monday was his day off.
Well, Mr. Wickert (awed and groping) _would_ be damned! All alone?
Banneker, smiling, admitted the solitude35. He rather liked dining alone.
Oh, Wickert couldn't see that at all! Give him a pal36 and a coupla lively girls, say from the Ladies' Tailor-Made Department, good-lookers and real dressers; that was _his_ idea of a dinner, though he'd never tried it at Sherry's. Not that he couldn't if he felt like it. How much did they stick you for a good feed-out with a cocktail37 and maybe a bottle of Italian Red?
Well, of course, that depended on which way was Wickert going? Could Banneker set him on his way? He was taking a taxi to the Avon Theater, where there was an opening.
Did Mr. Banneker (Wickert had by this time attained38 the "Mr." stage) always follow up his dinner at Sherry's with a theater?
Usually, if there were an opening. If not he went to the opera or a concert.
For his part, Wickert liked a little more spice in life. Still, every feller to his tastes. And Mr. Banneker was sure dressed for the part. Say--if he didn't mind--who made that full-dress suit?
No; of course he didn't mind. Mertoun made it.
After which Mr. Banneker had been deftly39 enshrouded in a fur-lined coat, worthy40 of a bank president, had crowned these glories with an impeccable silk hat, and had set forth. Wickert had only to add that he wore in his coat lapel one of those fancy tuberoses, which he, Wickert, had gone to the pains of pricing at the nearest flower shop immediately after leaving Banneker. A dollar apiece! No, he had not accepted the offer of a lift, being doubtful upon the point of honor as to whether he would be expected to pay a _pro rata_ of the taxi charge. They, the assembled breakfast company, had his permission to call him, Mr. Wickert, a goat if Mr. Banneker wasn't the swellest-looking guy he had anywhere seen on that memorable41 evening.
Nobody called Mr. Wickert a goat. But Mr. Hainer sniffed42 and said:
"And him a twenty-five-dollar-a-week reporter!"
"Perhaps he has private means," suggested little Miss Westlake, who had her own reasons for suspecting this: reasons bolstered43 by many and frequent manuscripts, turned over to her for typing, recast, returned for retyping, and again, in many instances, re-recast and re-retyped, the result of the sweating process being advantageous44 to their literary quality. Simultaneous advantage had accrued45 to the typist, also, in a practical way. Though the total of her bills was modest, it constituted an important extra; and Miss Westlake no longer sought to find solace46 for her woes47 through the prescription48 of the ambulant school of philosophic49 thought, and to solve her dental difficulties by walking the floor of nights. Philosophy never yet cured a toothache. Happily the sufferer was now able to pay a dentist. Hence Banneker could work, untroubled of her painful footsteps in the adjoining room, and considered the outcome cheap at the price. He deemed himself an exponent50 of enlightened selfishness. Perhaps he was. But the dim and worn spinster would have given half a dozen of her best and painless teeth to be of service to him. Now she came to his defense51 with a pretty dignity:
"I am sure that Mr. Banneker would not be out of place in any company."
"Maybe not," answered the cynical52 Lambert. "But where does he get it? I ask you!"
"Wherever he gets it, no gentleman could be more forehanded in his obligations," declared Mrs. Brashear.
"But what's he want to blow it for in a shirty place like Sherry's?" marveled young Wickert.
"Wyncha ask him?" brutally53 demanded Hainer.
Wickert examined his mind hastily, and was fain to admit inwardly that he had wanted to ask him, but somehow felt "skittish54" about it. Outwardly he retorted, being displeased55 at his own weakness, "Ask him yourself."
Had any one questioned the subject of the discussion at Mrs. Brashear's on this point, even if he were willing to reply to impertinent interrogations (a high improbability of which even the hardy56 Wickert seems to have had some timely premonition), he would perhaps have explained the glorified57 routine of his day-off, by saying that he went to Sherry's and the opening nights for the same reason that he prowled about the water-front and ate in polyglot58 restaurants on obscure street-corners east of Tompkins Square; to observe men and women and the manner of their lives. It would not have been a sufficient answer; Banneker must have admitted that to himself. Too much a man of the world in many strata59 not to be adjustable60 to any of them, nevertheless he felt more attuned61 to and at one with his environment amidst the suave62 formalism of Sherry's than in the more uneasy and precarious63 elegancies of an East-Side Tammany Association promenade64 and ball.
Some of the youngsters of The Ledger65 said that he was climbing.
He was not climbing. To climb one must be conscious of an ascent66 to be surmounted67. Banneker was serenely68 unaware69 of anything above him, in that sense. Eminent70 psychiatrists71 were, about that time, working upon the beginning of a theory of the soul, later to be imposed upon an impressionable and faddish72 world, which dealt with a profound psychical73 deficit74 known as a "complex of inferiority." In Banneker they would have found sterile75 soil. He had no complex of inferiority, nor, for that matter, of superiority; mental attitudes which, applied76 to social status, breed respectively the toady77 and the snob78. He had no complex at all. He had, or would have had, if the soul-analysts had invented such a thing, a simplex. Relative status was a matter to which he gave little thought. He maintained personal standards not because of what others might think of him, but because he chose to think well of himself.
Sherry's and a fifth-row-center seat at opening nights meant to him something more than refreshment79 and amusement; they were an assertion of his right to certain things, a right of which, whether others recognized or ignored it, he felt absolutely assured. These were the readily attainable80 places where successful people resorted. Serenely determined81 upon success, he felt himself in place amidst the outward and visible symbols of it. Let the price be high for his modest means; this was an investment which he could not afford to defer82. He was but anticipating his position a little, and in such wise that nobody could take exception to it, because his self-promotion demanded no aid or favor from any other living person. His interest was in the environment, not in the people, as such, who were hardly more than, "walking ladies and gentlemen" in a _mise-en-scene_. Indeed, where minor83 opportunities offered by chance of making acquaintances, he coolly rejected them. Banneker did not desire to know people--yet. When he should arrive at the point of knowing them, it must be upon his terms, not theirs.
It was on one of his Monday evenings of splendor85 that a misadventure of the sort which he had long foreboded, befell him. Sherry's was crowded, and a few tables away Banneker caught sight of Herbert Cressey, dining with a mixed party of a dozen. Presently Cressey came over.
"What have you been doing with yourself?" he asked, shaking hands. "Haven't seen you for months."
"Working," replied Banneker. "Sit down and have a cocktail. Two, Jules," he added to the attentive86 waiter.
"I guess they can spare me for five minutes," agreed Cressey, glancing back at his forsaken87 place. "This isn't what you call work, though, is it?"
"Hardly. This is my day off."
"Oh! And how goes the job?"
"Well enough."
"I'd think so," commented the other, taking in the general effect of Banneker's easy habituation to the standards of the restaurant. "You don't own this place, do you?" he added.
From another member of the world which had inherited or captured Sherry's as part of the spoils of life, the question might have been offensive. But Banneker genuinely liked Cressey.
"Not exactly," he returned lightly. "Do I give that unfortunate impression?"
"You give very much the impression of owning old Jules--or he does--and having a proprietary88 share in the new head waiter. Are you here much?"
"Monday evenings, only."
"This is a good cocktail," observed Cressey, savoring89 it expertly. "Better than they serve to me. And, say, Banneker, did Mertoun make you that outfit90?"
"Yes."
"Then I quit him," declared the gilded91 youth.
"Why? Isn't it all right?"
"All right! Dammit, it's a better job than ever I got out of him," returned his companion indignantly. "Some change from the catalogue suit you sported when you landed here! You know how to wear 'em; I've got to say that for you.... I've got to get back. When'll you dine with me? I want to hear all about it."
"Any Monday," answered Banneker.
Cressey returned to his waiting potage, and was immediately bombarded with queries, mainly from the girl on his left.
"Who's the wonderful-looking foreigner?"
"He isn't a foreigner. At least not very much."
"He looks like a North Italian princeling I used to know," said one of the women. "One of that warm-complexioned out-of-door type, that preserves the Roman mould. Isn't he an Italian?"
"He's an American. I ran across him out in the desert country."
"Hence that burned-in brown. What was he doing out there?"
Cressey hesitated. Innocent of any taint92 of snobbery93 himself, he yet did not know whether Banneker would care to have his humble94 position tacked95 onto the tails of that work of art, his new coat. "He was in the railroad business," he returned cautiously. "His name is Banneker."
"I've been seeing him for months," remarked another of the company. "He's always alone and always at that table. Nobody knows him. He's a mystery."
"He's a beauty," said Cressey's left-hand neighbor.
Miss Esther Forbes had been quite openly staring, with her large, gray, and childlike eyes, at Banneker, eating his oysters96 in peaceful unconsciousness of being made a subject for discussion. Miss Forbes was a Greuze portrait come to life and adjusted to the extremes of fashion. Behind an expression of the sweetest candor97 and wistfulness, as behind a safe bulwark98, she preserved an effrontery99 which balked100 at no defiance101 of conventions in public, though essentially102 she was quite sufficiently103 discreet104 for self-preservation. Also she had a keen little brain, a reckless but good-humored heart and a memory retentive105 of important trifles.
"In the West, Bertie?" she inquired of Cressey. "You were in that big wreck106 there, weren't you?"
"Devil of a wreck," said Cressey uneasily. You never could tell what Esther might know or might not say.
"Ask him over here," directed that young lady blandly107, "for coffee and liqueurs."
"Oh, I say!" protested one of the men. "Nobody knows anything about him--"
"He's a friend of mine," put in Cressey, in a tone which ended that particular objection. "But I don't think he'd come."
Instantly there was a chorus of demand for him.
"All right, I'll try," yielded Cressey, rising.
"Put him next to me," directed Miss Forbes.
The emissary visited Banneker's table, was observed to be in brief colloquy108 with him, and returned, alone.
"Wouldn't he come?" interrogated109 the chorus.
"He's awfully110 sorry, but he says he isn't fit for decent human associations."
"More and more interesting!"--"Why?"--"What awful thing has he been doing?"
"Eating onions," answered Cressey. "Raw."
"I don't believe it," cried the indignant Miss Forbes. "One doesn't eat raw onions at Sherry's. It's a subterfuge111."
"Very likely."
"If I went over there myself, who'll bet a dozen silk stockings that I can't--"
"Come off it, Ess," protested her brother-in-law across the table. "That's too high a jump, even for you."
She let herself be dissuaded112, but her dovelike eyes were vagrant113 during the rest of the dinner.
Pleasantly musing114 over the last glass of a good but moderate-priced Rosemont-Geneste, Banneker became aware of Cressey's dinner party filing past him: then of Jules, the waiter, discreetly115 murmuring something, from across the table. A faint and provocative116 scent10 came to his nostrils117, and as he followed Jules's eyes he saw a feminine figure standing118 at his elbow. He rose promptly119 and looked down into a face which might have been modeled for a type of appealing innocence120.
"You're Mr. Banneker, aren't you?"
"Yes."
"I'm Esther Forbes, and I think I've heard a great deal about you."
"It doesn't seem probable," he replied gravely.
"From a cousin of mine," pursued the girl. "She was Io Welland. Haven't I?"
A shock went through Banneker at the mention of the name. But he steadied himself to say: "I don't think so."
Herein he was speaking by the letter. Knowing Io Welland as he had, he deemed it very improbable that she had even so much as mentioned him to any of her friends. In that measure, at least, he believed, she would have respected the memory of the romance which she had so ruthlessly blasted. This girl, with the daring and wistful eyes, was simply fishing, so he guessed.
His guess was correct. Mendacity was not outside of Miss Forbes's easy code when enlisted121 in a good cause, such as appeasing122 her own impish curiosity. Never had Io so much as mentioned that quaint84 and lively romance with which vague gossip had credited her, after her return from the West; Esther Forbes had gathered it in, gossamer123 thread by gossamer thread, and was now hoping to identify Banneker in its uncertain pattern. Her little plan of startling him into some betrayal had proven abortive124. Not by so much as the quiver of a muscle or the minutest shifting of an eye had he given sign. Still convinced that he was the mysterious knight125 of the desert, she was moved to admiration126 for his self-command and to a sub-thrill of pleasurable fear as before an unknown and formidable species. The man who had transformed self-controlled and invincible127 Io Welland into the creature of moods and nerves and revulsions which she had been for the fortnight preceding her marriage, must be something out of the ordinary. Instinct of womankind told Miss Forbes that this and no other was the type of man to work such a miracle.
"But you did know Io?" she persisted, feeling, as she afterward128 confessed, that she was putting her head into the mouth of a lion concerning whose habits her knowledge was regrettably insufficient129.
The lion did not bite her head off. He did not even roar. He merely said, "Yes."
"In a railroad wreck or something of that sort?"
"Something of that sort."
"Are you awfully bored and wishing I'd go away and let you alone?" she said, on a note that pleaded for forbearance. "Because if you are, don't make such heroic efforts to conceal130 it."
At this an almost imperceptible twist at the corners of his lips manifested itself to the watchful131 eye and cheered the enterprising soul of Miss Forbes. "No," he said equably, "I'm interested to discover how far you'll go."
The snub left Miss Forbes unembarrassed.
"Oh, as far as you'll let me," she answered. "Did you ride in from your ranch132 and drag Io out of the tangled133 wreckage134 at the end of your lasso?"
"My ranch? I wasn't on a ranch."
"Please, sir," she smiled up at him like a beseeching135 angel, "what did you do that kept us all talking and speculating about you for a whole week, though we didn't know your name?"
"I sat right on my job as station-agent at Manzanita and made up lists of the killed and injured," answered Banneker dryly.
"Station-agent!" The girl was taken aback, for this was not at all in consonance with the Io myth as it had drifted back, from sources never determined, to New York. "Were you the station-agent?"
"I was."
She bestowed136 a glance at once appraising137 and flattering, less upon himself than upon his apparel. "And what are you now? President of the road?"
"A reporter on The Ledger."
"Really!" This seemed to astonish her even more than the previous information. "What are you reporting here?"
"I'm off duty to-night."
"I see. Could you get off duty some afternoon and come to tea, if I'll promise to have Io there to meet you?"
"Your party seems to be making signals of distress138, Miss Forbes."
"That's the normal attitude of my friends and family toward me. You'll come, won't you, Mr. Banneker?"
"Thank you: but reporting keeps one rather too busy for amusement."
"You won't come," she murmured, aggrieved139. "Then it _is_ true about you and Io."
This time she achieved a result. Banneker flushed angrily, though he said, coolly enough: "I think perhaps you would make an enterprising reporter, yourself, Miss Forbes."
"I'm sure I should. Well, I'll apologize. And if you won't come for Io--she's still abroad, by the way and won't be back for a month--perhaps you'll come for me. Just to show that you forgive my impertinences. Everybody does. I'm going to tell Bertie Cressey he must bring you.... All right, Bertie! I wish you wouldn't follow me up like--like a paper-chase. Good-night, Mr. Banneker."
To her indignant escort she declared that it couldn't have hurt them to wait a jiffy; that she had had a most amusing conversation; that Mr. Banneker was as charming as he was good to look at; and that (in answer to sundry140 questions) she had found out little or nothing, though she hoped for better results in future.
"But he's Io's passion-in-the-desert right enough," said the irreverent Miss Forbes.
Banneker sat long over his cooling coffee. Through haunted nights he had fought maddening memories of Io's shadowed eyes, of the exhalant, irresistible141 femininity of her, of the pulses of her heart against his on that wild and wonderful night in the flood; and he had won to an armed peace, in which the outposts of his spirit were ever on guard against the recurrent thoughts of her.
Now, at the bitter music of her name on the lips of a gossiping and frivolous142 girl, the barriers had given away. In eagerness and self-contempt he surrendered to the vision. Go to an afternoon tea to see and speak with her again? He would, in that awakened143 mood, have walked across the continent, only to be in her presence, to feel himself once more within the radius144 of that inexorable charm.
收听单词发音 |
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strictly
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| adv.严厉地，严格地；严密地 | |
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gatherings
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| 聚集( gathering的名词复数 )； 收集； 采集； 搜集 | |
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lodgers
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| n.房客，租住者( lodger的名词复数 ) | |
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excavations
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| n.挖掘( excavation的名词复数 )；开凿；开凿的洞穴（或山路等）；（发掘出来的）古迹 | |
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sedate
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| adj.沉着的，镇静的，安静的 | |
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descended
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| a.为...后裔的，出身于...的 | |
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natty
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| adj.整洁的，漂亮的 | |
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swollen
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| adj.肿大的，水涨的；v.使变大，肿胀 | |
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forth
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| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
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scent
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compendium
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| n.简要，概略 | |
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adorning
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| 修饰，装饰物 | |
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vaudeville
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| n.歌舞杂耍表演 | |
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purely
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| adv.纯粹地，完全地 | |
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austere
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| adj.艰苦的；朴素的，朴实无华的；严峻的 | |
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conversationally
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dallied
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| v.随随便便地对待( dally的过去式和过去分词 )；不很认真地考虑；浪费时间；调情 | |
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resentment
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slurring
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| 含糊地说出( slur的现在分词 )； 含糊地发…的声； 侮辱； 连唱 | |
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grove
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| n.林子，小树林，园林 | |
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offhand
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| adj.临时，无准备的；随便，马虎的 | |
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jocose
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| adj.开玩笑的，滑稽的 | |
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wink
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gibe
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| n.讥笑；嘲弄 | |
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champagne
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chuckling
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swell
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| vi.膨胀，肿胀；增长，增强 | |
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swells
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| 增强( swell的第三人称单数 )； 肿胀； （使）凸出； 充满（激情） | |
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stew
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| n.炖汤，焖，烦恼；v.炖汤，焖，忧虑 | |
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gee
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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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dealing
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sketch
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queries
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solitude
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pal
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cocktail
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| n.鸡尾酒；餐前开胃小吃；混合物 | |
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38
attained
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| （通常经过努力）实现( attain的过去式和过去分词 )； 达到； 获得； 达到（某年龄、水平、状况） | |
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39
deftly
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| adv.灵巧地，熟练地，敏捷地 | |
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40
worthy
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| adj.(of)值得的，配得上的；有价值的 | |
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41
memorable
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| adj.值得回忆的，难忘的，特别的，显著的 | |
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42
sniffed
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| v.以鼻吸气，嗅，闻( sniff的过去式和过去分词 )；抽鼻子（尤指哭泣、患感冒等时出声地用鼻子吸气）；抱怨，不以为然地说 | |
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43
bolstered
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| v.支持( bolster的过去式和过去分词 )；支撑；给予必要的支持；援助 | |
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advantageous
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| adj.有利的；有帮助的 | |
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45
accrued
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| adj.权责已发生的v.增加( accrue的过去式和过去分词 )；（通过自然增长）产生；获得；（使钱款、债务）积累 | |
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46
solace
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| n.安慰；v.使快乐；vt.安慰(物)，缓和 | |
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47
woes
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| 困境( woe的名词复数 )； 悲伤； 我好苦哇； 某人就要倒霉 | |
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48
prescription
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| n.处方，开药；指示，规定 | |
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49
philosophic
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| adj.哲学的，贤明的 | |
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50
exponent
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| n.倡导者，拥护者；代表人物；指数，幂 | |
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51
defense
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| n.防御，保卫；[pl.]防务工事；辩护，答辩 | |
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52
cynical
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| adj.(对人性或动机)怀疑的，不信世道向善的 | |
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53
brutally
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| adv.残忍地，野蛮地，冷酷无情地 | |
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54
skittish
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| adj.易激动的，轻佻的 | |
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55
displeased
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| a.不快的 | |
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56
hardy
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| adj.勇敢的，果断的，吃苦的；耐寒的 | |
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57
glorified
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| 美其名的，变荣耀的 | |
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58
polyglot
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| adj.通晓数种语言的；n.通晓多种语言的人 | |
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59
strata
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| n.地层（复数）；社会阶层 | |
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60
adjustable
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| adj.可调整的，可校准的 | |
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61
attuned
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| v.使协调( attune的过去式和过去分词 )；调音 | |
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62
suave
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| adj.温和的；柔和的；文雅的 | |
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63
precarious
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| adj.不安定的，靠不住的；根据不足的 | |
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64
promenade
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| n./v.散步 | |
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65
ledger
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| n.总帐，分类帐；帐簿 | |
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66
ascent
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| n.(声望或地位)提高；上升，升高；登高 | |
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67
surmounted
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| 战胜( surmount的过去式和过去分词 )； 克服（困难）； 居于…之上； 在…顶上 | |
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68
serenely
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| adv.安详地，宁静地，平静地 | |
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69
unaware
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| a.不知道的，未意识到的 | |
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70
eminent
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| adj.显赫的，杰出的，有名的，优良的 | |
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71
psychiatrists
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| n.精神病专家，精神病医生( psychiatrist的名词复数 ) | |
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72
faddish
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| adj.好赶时髦的；一时流行的 | |
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73
psychical
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| adj.有关特异功能现象的；有关特异功能官能的；灵魂的；心灵的 | |
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74
deficit
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| n.亏空，亏损；赤字，逆差 | |
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75
sterile
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| adj.不毛的，不孕的，无菌的，枯燥的，贫瘠的 | |
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76
applied
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| adj.应用的；v.应用，适用 | |
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77
toady
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| v.奉承；n.谄媚者，马屁精 | |
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78
snob
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| n.势利小人，自以为高雅、有学问的人 | |
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79
refreshment
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| n.恢复，精神爽快，提神之事物；（复数）refreshments:点心，茶点 | |
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80
attainable
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| a.可达到的，可获得的 | |
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81
determined
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| adj.坚定的；有决心的 | |
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82
defer
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| vt.推迟，拖延；vi.(to)遵从，听从，服从 | |
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83
minor
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| adj.较小(少)的，较次要的；n.辅修学科；vi.辅修 | |
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84
quaint
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| adj.古雅的，离奇有趣的，奇怪的 | |
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85
splendor
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| n.光彩；壮丽，华丽；显赫，辉煌 | |
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86
attentive
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| adj.注意的，专心的；关心(别人)的，殷勤的 | |
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87
Forsaken
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| adj. 被遗忘的, 被抛弃的 动词forsake的过去分词 | |
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88
proprietary
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| n.所有权，所有的；独占的；业主 | |
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89
savoring
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| v.意味，带有…的性质( savor的现在分词 )；给…加调味品；使有风味；品尝 | |
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90
outfit
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| n.（为特殊用途的）全套装备，全套服装 | |
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91
gilded
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| a.镀金的，富有的 | |
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92
taint
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| n.污点；感染；腐坏；v.使感染；污染 | |
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93
snobbery
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| n. 充绅士气派, 俗不可耐的性格 | |
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94
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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95
tacked
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| 用平头钉钉( tack的过去式和过去分词 )； 附加，增补； 帆船抢风行驶，用粗线脚缝 | |
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96
oysters
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| 牡蛎( oyster的名词复数 ) | |
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97
candor
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| n.坦白，率真 | |
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98
bulwark
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| n.堡垒，保障，防御 | |
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99
effrontery
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| n.厚颜无耻 | |
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100
balked
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| v.畏缩不前，犹豫( balk的过去式和过去分词 )；（指马）不肯跑 | |
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101
defiance
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| n.挑战，挑衅，蔑视，违抗 | |
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102
essentially
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| adv.本质上，实质上，基本上 | |
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103
sufficiently
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| adv.足够地，充分地 | |
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104
discreet
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| adj.(言行)谨慎的；慎重的；有判断力的 | |
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105
retentive
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| v.保留的，有记忆的；adv.有记性地，记性强地；n.保持力 | |
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106
wreck
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| n.失事，遇难；沉船；vt.(船等)失事，遇难 | |
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107
blandly
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| adv.温和地，殷勤地 | |
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108
colloquy
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| n.谈话，自由讨论 | |
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109
interrogated
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| v.询问( interrogate的过去式和过去分词 )；审问；（在计算机或其他机器上）查询 | |
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110
awfully
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| adv.可怕地，非常地，极端地 | |
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111
subterfuge
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| n.诡计；藉口 | |
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112
dissuaded
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| 劝（某人）勿做某事，劝阻( dissuade的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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113
vagrant
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| n.流浪者，游民；adj.流浪的，漂泊不定的 | |
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114
musing
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| n. 沉思，冥想 adj. 沉思的, 冥想的 动词muse的现在分词形式 | |
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115
discreetly
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| ad.(言行)审慎地，慎重地 | |
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116
provocative
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| adj.挑衅的，煽动的，刺激的，挑逗的 | |
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117
nostrils
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| 鼻孔( nostril的名词复数 ) | |
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118
standing
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| n.持续，地位；adj.永久的，不动的，直立的，不流动的 | |
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119
promptly
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| adv.及时地，敏捷地 | |
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120
innocence
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| n.无罪；天真；无害 | |
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121
enlisted
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| adj.应募入伍的v.（使）入伍， （使）参军( enlist的过去式和过去分词 )；获得（帮助或支持） | |
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122
appeasing
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| 安抚，抚慰( appease的现在分词 )； 绥靖（满足另一国的要求以避免战争） | |
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123
gossamer
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| n.薄纱，游丝 | |
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124
abortive
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| adj.不成功的，发育不全的 | |
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125
knight
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| n.骑士，武士；爵士 | |
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126
admiration
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| n.钦佩，赞美，羡慕 | |
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127
invincible
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| adj.不可征服的，难以制服的 | |
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128
afterward
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| adv.后来；以后 | |
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129
insufficient
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| adj.(for，of)不足的，不够的 | |
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130
conceal
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| v.隐藏，隐瞒，隐蔽 | |
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131
watchful
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| adj.注意的，警惕的 | |
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132
ranch
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| n.大牧场，大农场 | |
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133
tangled
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| adj. 纠缠的，紊乱的 动词tangle的过去式和过去分词 | |
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134
wreckage
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| n.（失事飞机等的）残骸，破坏，毁坏 | |
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135
beseeching
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| adj.恳求似的v.恳求，乞求（某事物）( beseech的现在分词 ) | |
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136
bestowed
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| 赠给，授予( bestow的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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137
appraising
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| v.估价( appraise的现在分词 )；估计；估量；评价 | |
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138
distress
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| n.苦恼，痛苦，不舒适；不幸；vt.使悲痛 | |
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139
aggrieved
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| adj.愤愤不平的，受委屈的；悲痛的；（在合法权利方面）受侵害的v.令委屈，令苦恼，侵害( aggrieve的过去式)；令委屈，令苦恼，侵害( aggrieve的过去式和过去分词) | |
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140
sundry
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| adj.各式各样的，种种的 | |
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141
irresistible
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| adj.非常诱人的，无法拒绝的，无法抗拒的 | |
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142
frivolous
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| adj.轻薄的；轻率的 | |
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143
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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144
radius
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| n.半径，半径范围；有效航程，范围，界限 | |
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