Marguerite was first at the rendezvous. George saw her walking sedately7 near the entrance. Despite her sedateness8 she had unmistakably the air of waiting at a tryst9. Anybody at a glance would have said that she was expecting a man. She had the classical demure11 innocency12 of her situation. George did not care for that. Why? She in fact was ex [pg 135] pecting a man, and in expecting him she had nothing to be ashamed of. Well, he did not care for it. He did not care for her being like other girls of her class. In his pocket he had an invitation from Miss Wheeler for the next evening. Would Miss Wheeler wait for a man in a public place, especially a cemetery? Would Lois Ingram? Would Laurencine? He could not picture them so waiting. Oh, simpleton, unlearned in the world! A snob13 too, no doubt! (He actually thought that Hyde Park would have been 'better' than the cemetery for their rendezvous.) And illogical! If No. 8 had been open to them, and the studio, and the club, he would have accepted with gusto the idea of an open-air rendezvous. But since there was no alternative to an open-air rendezvous the idea of it humiliated14 and repelled15 him.
Further, in addition to her culpable16 demure innocency, Marguerite was wearing black. Of course she was. She had no choice. Still, he hated her mourning. Moreover, she was too modest; she did not impose herself. Some girls wore mourning with splendid defiance17. Marguerite seemed to apologize; seemed to turn the other cheek to death.... He arrived critical, and naturally he found matter to criticize.
Her greeting showed quite candidly18 the pleasure she had in the sight of him. Her heart was in the hand she gave him; he felt its mystic throbbings there.
"How are things?" he began. "I rather thought I should have been hearing from you." He softened20 his voice to match the tenderness of her smile, but he did it consciously.
She replied:
"I thought you'd have enough to worry about with the exam. without me."
It was not a wise speech, because it implied that he was capable of being worried, of being disturbed in the effort of absorption necessary for the examination. He laughed a little harshly.
"Well, you see the result!"
He had written to tell her of the disastrous21 incident and that failure was a certainty; a sort of shame had made him recoil22 from telling her to her face; it was easier to be casual in writing than in talking; the letter had at any rate tempered for both of them the shock of communication. Now, he was out of humour with her because he had played the ass10 with an ass of an examiner—not because she was directly or indirectly23 responsible for his doing so; simply because he had done so. She was the woman. It was true that she in part was indirectly responsible for the calamity24, but he did not believe it, and anyhow would never have admitted it.
"Oh! George! What a shame it was!" As usual, not a trace of reproach from her: an absolute conviction that he was entirely25 blameless. "What shall you do? You'll have to sit again."
"But—shall you give up architecture, then?"
"Certainly not! My dear girl, what are you thinking of? Of course I shan't give up architecture. But you needn't pass any exams, to be an architect. Anybody can call himself an architect, and be an architect, without passing exams. Exams. are optional. That's what makes old Enwright so cross with our beautiful profession."
He laughed again harshly. All the time, beneath his quite genuine defiance, he was thinking what an idiot he had been to cheek the examiner, and how staggeringly simple it was to ruin years of industry by one impulsive27 moment's folly28, and how iniquitous29 was a world in which such injustice30 could be.
Marguerite was puzzled. In her ignorance she had imagined that professions were inseparably connected with examinations. However, she had to find faith to accept his dictum, and she found it.
"Now about this afternoon," he said. "I vote we take a steamboat down the river. I've made up my mind I must have a look at Greenwich again from the water. And we both need a blow."
"But won't it take a long time?" she mildly objected.
"What if it does?"
He knew that she was thinking of her infernal father, and he would not have it. He remembered all that Agg had said. Assuredly Agg had shown nerve, too much nerve, to tackle him in the way she did, and the more he reflected upon Agg's interference the more he resented it as impertinent. Still, Agg had happened to talk sense.
"Oh, nothing!" Marguerite agreed quickly, fearfully. "I should like to go. I've never been. Do we go to Chelsea Pier32? Down Fernshaw Road will be the nearest."
"We'll go down Beaufort Street," he decided33. He divined that she had suggested Fernshaw Road in order to avoid passing the end of the Grove34, where her father might con3 ceivably see them. Well, he was not going out of his way to avoid her father. Nay35, he was going slightly out of his way in order to give her father every chance of beholding36 them together.
Although the day was Saturday there was no stir on Chelsea Pier. The pier-keeper, indeed, was alone on the pier, which rose high on the urgent flood-tide, so that the gangway to it sloped unusually upwards37. No steamer was in sight, and it seemed impossible that any steamer should ever call at that forlorn and decrepit38 platform that trembled under the straining of the water. Nevertheless, a steamer did after a little while appear round the bend, in Battersea Reach; she dropped her funnel39, aimed her sharp nose at an arch of Battersea Bridge, and finally, poising40 herself against the strong stream, bumped very gently and neatly41 into contact with the pier. The pier-keeper went through all the classic motions of mooring42, unbarring, barring, and casting off, and in a few seconds the throbbing19 steamer, which was named with the name of a great Londoner, left the pier again with George and Marguerite on board. Nobody had disembarked. The shallow and handsome craft, flying its gay flags, crossed and recrossed the river, calling at three piers44 in the space of a few minutes; but all the piers were like Chelsea Pier; all the pier-keepers had the air of castaways upon shaking islets. The passengers on the steamer would not have filled a motor-bus, and they carried themselves like melancholy45 adventurers who have begun to doubt the authenticity46 of the inspiration which sent them on a mysterious quest. Such was travel on the Thames in the years immediately before Londoners came to a final decision that the Thames was meet to be ignored by the genteel town which it had begotten47.
George and Marguerite sat close together near the prow48, saying little, the one waiting to spring, the other to suffer onslaught. It was in Lambeth Reach that the broad, brimming river challenged and seized George's imagination. A gusty49, warm, south-west wind met the rushing tide and blew it up into foamy50 waves. The wind was powerful, but the tide was irresistible51. Far away, Land's End having divided the Atlantic surge, that same wind was furiously driving vast waters up the English Channel and round the Forelands, and also vast waters up the west coast of Britain. The twin surges had met again in the outer estuary52 of the Thames and joined their terrific impulses to defy the very wind which had given them strength, and the mighty53 flux54 swept with unregarding power through the mushroom city whose existence on its banks was a transient episode in the everlasting55 life of the river.
The river seemed to threaten the city that had confined it in stone. And George, in the background of his mind, which was obsessed56 by the tormenting57 enigma58 of the girl by his side, also threatened the city. With the uncompromising arrogance59 of the student who has newly acquired critical ideas, he estimated and judged it. He cursed the Tate Gallery and utterly60 damned Doulton's works. He sternly approved Lambeth Palace, the Houses of Parliament, Westminster Abbey, Somerset House, Waterloo Bridge, and St. Paul's. He cursed St. Thomas's Hospital and the hotels. He patronized New Scotland Yard. The "Isambard Brunel" penetrated61 more and more into the heart of the city, fighting for every yard of her progress. Flags stood out straight in the blue sky traversed by swift white clouds. Huge rudder-less barges62, each with a dwarf63 in the stern struggling at a giant's oar43, were borne westwards broadside on like straws upon the surface of a hurrying brook64. A launch with an orchestra on board flew gaily65 past. Tugs66 with a serpentine67 tail of craft threaded perilously68 through the increasing traffic. Railway trains, cabs, coloured omnibuses, cyclists, and footfarers mingled69 in and complicated the scene. Then the first ocean-going steamer appeared, belittling70 all else. And then the calm, pale beauty of the custom-house at last humbled71 George, and for an instant made him think that he could never do anything worth doing. His pride leapt up, unconquerable. The ocean-going steamers, as they multiplied on the river, roused in him wild and painful longings72 to rush to the ends of the earth and gorge73 himself on the immense feast which the great romantic earth had to offer.
"By Jove!" he exclaimed passionately74. "I'd give something to go to Japan."
"Would you?" Marguerite answered with mildness. She had not the least notion of what he was feeling. Her voice responded to him, but her imagination did not respond. True, as he had always known, she had no ambition! The critical quality of his mood developed. The imperious impulse came to take her to task.
"What's the latest about your father?" he asked, with a touch of impatient, aggrieved75 disdain76. Both were aware that the words had opened a crucial interview between them. She moved nervously77 on the seat. The benches that ran along the deck-rails met in an acute angle at the stem of the steamer, so that the pair sat opposite each other with their knees almost touching78. He went on: "I hear he hasn't gone back to the office yet."
"No," said Marguerite. "But he'll start again on Monday, I think."
"But is he fit to go back? I thought he looked awful."
She flushed slightly—at the indirect reference to the episode in the basement on the night of the death.
"It will do him good to go back," said Marguerite. "I'm sure he misses the office dreadfully."
George gazed at her person. Under the thin glove he suddenly detected the form of her ring. She was wearing it again, then. (He could not remember whether she had worn it at their last meeting, in Agg's studio. The very curious fact was that at their last meeting he had forgotten to look for the ring.) Not only was she wearing the ring, but she carried a stylish79 little handbag which he had given her. When he bought that bag, in the Burlington Arcade80, it had been a bag like any other bag. But now it had become part of her, individualized by her personality, a mysterious and provocative81 bag. Everything she wore, down to her boots and even her bootlaces so neatly threaded and knotted, was mysterious and provocative. He examined her face. It was marvellously beautiful; it was ordinary; it was marvellously beautiful. He knew her to the depths; he did not know her at all; she was a chance acquaintance; she was a complete stranger.
"How are you getting on with him? You know you really ought to tell me."
"Oh, George!" she said, earnestly vivacious82. "You're wrong in thinking he's not nice to me. He is. He's quite forgiven me."
"Forgiven you!" George took her up. "I should like to know what he had to forgive."
"Well," she murmured timorously83. "You understand what I mean."
He drummed his elegant feet on the striated84 deck. Out of the corner of his left eye he saw the mediaeval shape of the Tower rapidly disappearing. In front were the variegated85 funnels86 and masts of fleets gathered together in St. Katherine's Dock and London Dock. The steamer gained speed as she headed from Cherry Gardens Pier towards the middle of the river. She was a frail87 trifle compared with the big boats that lined the wharves88; but in herself she had size and irresistible force, travelling quite smoothly89 over the short, riotous90, sparkling waves which her cut-water divided and spurned91 away on either side. Only a tremor92 faintly vibrated throughout her being.
She showed no resentment94 of his tone, but replied gently:
"I did try to mention it once, but it was no use—he wasn't in a condition. He made me quite afraid—not for me of course, but for him."
"Well, I give it up!" said George. "I simply give it up! It's past me. How soon's he going to be in condition? He can't keep us walking about the streets for ever."
"I see you've got your ring on."
She too looked at her hand.
"My ring? Naturally. What do you mean?"
He proceeded cruelly:
"I suppose you don't wear it in the house, so that the sight of it shan't annoy him."
She flushed once more.
"Oh, George, dear!" Her glance asked for mercy, for magnanimity.
"Do you wear it when you're in the house, or don't you?"
Her eyes fell.
"I daren't excite him. Truly, I daren't. It wouldn't do. It wouldn't be right."
She was admitting George's haphazard97 charge against her. He was astounded98. But he merely flung back his head and raised his eyebrows99. He thought:
"And yet she sticks to it he's nice to her! My God!"
He said nothing aloud. The Royal Hospital, Greenwich, showed itself in the distance like a domed100 island rising fabulously101 out of the blue-green water. Even far off, before he could decipher the main contours of the gigantic quadruple pile, the vision excited him. His mind, darkened by the most dreadful apprehensions102 concerning Marguerite, dwelt on it darkly, sardonically103, and yet with pleasure. And he proudly compared his own disillusions104 with those of his greatest forerunners105. His studies, and the example of Mr. Enwright, had inspired him with an extremely enthusiastic worship of Inigo Jones, whom he classed, not without reason, among the great creative artists of Europe. He snorted when he heard the Royal Hospital referred to as the largest and finest charitable institution in the world. For him it was the supreme106 English architectural work. He snorted at the thought of that pompous107 and absurd monarch108 James I ordering Inigo Jones to design him a palace surpassing all palaces and choosing a sublime109 site therefor, and then doing nothing. He snorted at the thought of that deluded110 monarch Charles I ordering Inigo Jones to design him a palace surpassing all palaces, and receiving from Inigo Jones the plans of a structure which would have equalled in beauty and eclipsed in grandeur111 any European structure of the Christian112 era—even Chambord, even the Escurial, even Versailles—and then accomplishing nothing beyond a tiny fragment of the sublime dream. He snorted at the thought that Inigo Jones had died at the age of nearly eighty ere the foundations of the Greenwich palace had begun to be dug, and without having seen more than the fragment of his unique Whitehall—after a youth spent in arranging masques for a stupid court, and an old age spent in disappointment. But then no English monarch had ever begun and finished a palace. George wished, rather venturesomely, that he had lived under Francis I!...
The largest and finest charitable institution! The ineffable113 William and Mary had merely turned it into a charitable institution because they did not know what else to do with it. The mighty halls which ought to have resounded114 to the laughter of the mistresses of Charles II were diverted to the inevitable115 squalor of almsgiving. The mutilated victims of the egotism and the fatuity116 of kings were imprisoned117 there together under the rules and regulations of charity, the cruellest of all rules and regulations. And all was done meanly—that is, all that interested George. Christopher Wren118, who was building St. Paul's and fighting libels and slanders119 at a salary of two hundred a year, came down to Greenwich and for years worked immortally120 for nothing amid material difficulties that never ceased to multiply; and he too was beaten by the huge monster. Then Vanbrugh arrived and blithely121 finished in corrupt122 brick and flaming manifestations123 of decadence124 that which the pure and monumental genius of Inigo Jones had first conceived. The north frontages were marvels125 of beauty; the final erections to the south amounted to an outrage126 upon Jones and Wren. Still, the affair was the largest and finest charitable institution on earth! What a country, thought George, hugging injustice! So it had treated Jones and Wren and many another. So it had treated Enwright. And so it would treat, was already treating, him, George. He did not care. As the steamer approached Greenwich, and the details of the aborted127 palace grew clearer, and he could distinguish between the genius of Jones and the genius of Wren, he felt grimly and victoriously128 sure that both Jones and Wren had had the best of the struggle against indifference129 and philistinism—as he too would have the best of the struggle, though he should die obscure and in penury130. He was miserable131 and resentful, and yet he was triumphant132. The steamer stopped at the town-pier.
"Are we there?" said Marguerite. "Already?"
"Yes," said he. "And I think we may as well go back by the same steamer."
She concurred133. However, an official insisted on them disembarking, even if they meant to re-embark at once. They, went ashore134. The facade135 of the palace-hospital stretched majestically136 to the left of them, in sharp perspective, a sensational137 spectacle.
"It's very large," Marguerite commented. Her voice was nervous.
"Yes, it's rather more than large," he said dryly.
He would not share his thoughts with her. He knew that she had some inklings of taste, but in that moment he preferred to pretend that her artistic138 perception was on a level with that of William and Mary. They boarded the steamer again, and took their old places; and the menacing problem of their predicament was still between them.
"We can have some tea downstairs if you like," he said, after the steamer had turned round and started upstream.
She answered in tones imperfectly controlled:
"No, thank you. I feel as if I couldn't swallow anything." And she looked up at him very quickly; with the embryo140 of a smile, and then looked down again very quickly, because she could not bring the smile to maturity141.
George thought:
"Am I going to have a scene with her—on the steamer?" It would not matter much if a scene did occur. There was nobody else on deck forward of the bridge. They were alone—they were more solitary142 than they might have been in the studio, or in any room at No. 8. The steamer was now nearly heading the wind, but she travelled more smoothly, for she had the last of the flood-tide under her.
"Upon my soul, I don't know what the old gentleman's got against me."
She eagerly accepted his advance, which seemed to give her courage.
"But there's nothing to know, dear. We both know that. There's nothing at all. And yet of course I can understand it. So can you. In fact it was you who first explained it to me. If you'd left No. 8 when I did and he'd heard of our engagement afterwards, he wouldn't have thought anything of it. But it was you staying on in the house that did it, and him not knowing of the engagement. He thought you used to come to see me at nights at the studio, me and Agg, and make fun of everything at No. 8—especially of his wife. He's evidently got some such idea in his head, and there's no getting it out again."
"But it's childish."
"I know. However, we've said all this before, haven't we?"
"But the idea's got to be got out of his head again!" said George vigorously—more dictatorially145 and less persuasively than before.
Marguerite offered no remark.
"And after all," George continued, "he couldn't have been so desperately146 keen on—your stepmother. When he married her your mother hadn't been dead so very long, had she?"
"No. But he never cared for mother anything like so much as he cared for Mrs. Lobley—at least not as far back as I can remember. It was a different sort of thing altogether. I think he was perfectly139 mad about Mrs. Lobley. Oh! He stood mother's death much—much better than hers! You've no idea—"
"Oh yes, I have. We know all about that sort of thing," said George the man of the world impatiently.
Marguerite said tenderly:
"It's broken him."
"Nonsense!"
"It has, George." Her voice was very soft.
But George would not listen to the softness of her voice.
"Well," he objected firmly and strongly, "supposing it has! What then? We're sorry for him. What then? That affair has nothing to do with our affair. Is all that [pg 144] reason why I shouldn't see you in your own home? Or are we to depend on Agg—when she happens to be at her studio? Or are we always to see each other in the street, or in museums and things—or steamers—just as if you were a shop-girl? We may just as well look facts in the face, you know."
She flushed. Her features changed under emotion.
"Oh! George! I don't know what to do."
"Then you think he's determined147 not to have anything to do with me?"
She was silent.
"You think he's determined not to have anything to do with me, I say?"
"He may change," Marguerite murmured.
"'May change' be dashed! We've got to know where we stand."
He most surprisingly stood up, staring at her. She did not speak, but she lifted her eyes to his with timid courage. They were wet. George abruptly148 walked away along the deck. The steamer was passing the custom-house again. The tide had now almost slacked. Fresh and heavier clouds had overcast149 the sky. All the varied150 thoughts of the afternoon were active in George's head at once: architecture, architects, beauty, professional injustices151, girls—his girl. Each affected152 the others, for they were deeply entangled153. It is a fact that he could not put Inigo Jones and Christopher Wren out of his head; he wondered what had been their experiences with women, histories and textbooks of architecture did not treat of this surely important aspect of architecture! He glanced at Marguerite from the distance. He remembered what Agg had said to him about her; but what Agg had said did not appear to help him practically.... Why had he left Marguerite? Why was he standing154 thirty feet from her and observing her inimically? He walked back to her, sat down, and said calmly:
"Listen to me, darling. Suppose we arrange now, definitely, to get married in two years' time. How will that do for you?"
"But, George, can you be sure that you'll be able to marry in two years?"
He put his chin forward.
"You needn't worry about that," said he. "You needn't think because I've failed in an exam. I don't know what I'm about. You leave all that to me. In two years I [pg 145] shall be able enough to keep a wife— and well! Now, shall we arrange to get married in two years' time?"
"It might be a fearful drag for you," she said. "Because, you know, I don't really earn very much."
"That's not the point. I don't care what you earn. I shan't want you to earn anything—so far as that goes. Any earning that's wanted I shall be prepared to do. I'll put it like this: Supposing I'm in a position to keep you, shall we arrange to get married in two years' time?" He found a fierce pleasure in reiterating155 the phrase. "So long as that's understood, I don't mind the rest. If we have to depend on Agg, or meet in the streets—never mind. It'll be an infernal nuisance, but I expect I can stand it as well as you can. Moreover, I quite see your difficulty—quite. And let's hope the old gentleman will begin to have a little sense."
"Oh, George! If he only would!"
He did not like her habit of "Oh, George! Oh! George!"
"I don't know what to say, George."
He restrained himself.
"We're engaged, aren't we?" She gave no answer, and he repeated: "We're engaged, aren't we?"
"Yes."
"That's all right. Well, will you give me your absolute promise to marry me in two years' time—if I'm in a position to keep you? It's quite simple. You say you don't know what to say. But you've got to know what to say." As he looked at her averted158 face, his calmness began to leave him.
"Oh, George! I can't promise that!" she burst out, showing at length her emotion. The observant skipper on the bridge noted159 that there were a boy and a girl forward having a bit of a tiff160.
George trembled. All that Agg had said recurred161 to him once more. But what could he do to act on it? Anger was gaining, on him.
"Why not?" he menaced.
"It would have to depend on how father was. Surely you must see that!"
"Indeed I don't see it. I see quite the contrary. We're engaged. You've got the first call on me, and I've got the first call on you—not your father." The skin over his nose [pg 146] was tight, owing to the sudden swelling162 of two points, one on either side of the bone.
"George, I couldn't leave him—again. I think now I may have been wrong to leave him before. However, that's over. I couldn't leave him again. It would be very wrong. He'd be all alone."
"Well, then, let him be friends with me."
"I do wish he would."
"Yes. Well, wishing won't do much good. If there's any trouble it's entirely your father's fault. And what I want to know is—will you give me your absolute promise to marry me in two years' time?"
"I can't, George. It wouldn't be honest. I can't! I can't! How can you ask me to throw over my duty to father?"
He rose and walked away again. She was profoundly moved, but no sympathy for her mitigated163 his resentment. He considered that her attitude was utterly monstrous—monstrous! He could not find a word adequate for it. He was furious; his fury increased with each moment. He returned to the prow, but did not sit down.
"Don't you think, then, you ought to choose between your father and me?" he said in a low, hard voice, standing over her.
"What do I mean? It's plain enough what I mean, isn't it? Your father may live twenty years yet. Nobody knows. The older he gets the more obstinate165 he'll be. We may be kept hanging about for years and years and years. Indefinitely. What's the sense of it? You say you've got your duty, but what's the object of being engaged?
"Do you want to break it off, George?"
"Now don't put it like that. You know I don't want to break it off. You know I want to marry you. Only you won't, and I'm not going to be made a fool of. I'm absolutely innocent."
"Of course you are!" she agreed eagerly.
"Well, I'm not going to be made a fool of by your father. If we're engaged, you know what it means. Marriage. If it doesn't mean that, then I say we've no right to be engaged."
Marguerite seemed to recoil at the last words, but she recovered herself. And then, heedless of being in a public place, she drew off her glove, and drew the engagement ring from her finger, and held it out to George. She could not [pg 147] speak. The gesture was her language. George was extremely staggered. He was stupefied for an instant. Then he took the ring, and under an uncontrollable savage impulse he threw it into the river. He did not move for a considerable time, staring at the river in front. Neither did she move. At length he said in a cold voice, without moving his head:
"Here's Chelsea Pier."
She got up and walked to the rail amidships. He followed. The steamer moored166. A section of rail slid aside. The pier-keeper gave a hand to Marguerite, who jumped on to the pier. George hesitated. The pier-keeper challenged him testily167:
"Now then, are ye coming ashore or aren't ye?"
George could not move. The pier-keeper banged the rail to close the gap, and cast off the ropes, and the steamer resumed her voyage.
A minute later George saw Marguerite slowly crossing the gangway from the pier to the embankment. There she went! She was about to be swallowed up in the waste of human dwellings168, in the measureless and tragic169 expanse of the indifferent town.... She was gone. Curse her, with her reliability170! She was too reliable. He knew that. Her father could rely on her. Curse her, with her outrageous171, incredibly cruel, and unjust sense of duty! She had held him once. Once the sight of her had made him turn hot and cold. Once the prospect172 of life without her had seemed unbearable173. He had loved her instinctively174 and intensely. He now judged and condemned175 her. Her beauty, her sweetness, her belief in him, her reliability—these qualities were neutralized176 by her sense of duty, awful, uncompromising, blind to fundamental justice. The affair was over. If he knew her, he knew also himself. The affair was over. He was in despair. His mind went round and round like a life-prisoner exercising in an enclosed yard. No escape! Till then, he had always believed in his luck. Infantile delusion177! He was now aware that destiny had struck him a blow once for all. But of course he did not perceive that he was too young, not ripe, for such a blow. The mark of destiny was on his features, and it was out of place there.... He had lost Marguerite. And what had he lost? What was there in her? She was not brilliant; she had no position; she had neither learning nor wit. He could remember nothing remarkable178 that they had ever said to each other. Indeed, their conversations had generally been rather banal179. But he could remember how they had felt, how he had felt, in their hours together.... The sensation communicated to him by her hand when he had drawn180 off her glove in the tremendous silence of the hansom! Marvellous, exquisite181, magical sensation that no words of his could render! And there had been others as rare. These scenes were love; they were Marguerite; they were what he had lost.... Strange, that he should throw the ring into the river! Nevertheless it was a right gesture. She deserved it. She was absolutely wrong; he was absolutely right—she had admitted it. Towards him she had no excuse. Logically her attitude was absurd. Yet no argument would change it. Stupid—that was what she was! Stupid! And ruthless! She would be capable of martyrizing the whole world to her sense of duty, her damnable, insane sense of duty.... She was gone. He was ruined; she had ruined him. But he respected her. He hated to respect her, but he respected her.
A thought leapt up in his mind—and who could have guessed it? It was the thought that the secrecy182 of the engagement would save him from a great deal of public humiliation183. He would have loathed184 saying: "We've broken it off."
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rendezvous
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| n.约会，约会地点，汇合点；vi.汇合，集合；vt.使汇合，使在汇合地点相遇 | |
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cemetery
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| n.坟墓，墓地，坟场 | |
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con
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| n.反对的观点，反对者，反对票，肺病；vt.精读，学习，默记；adv.反对地，从反面；adj.欺诈的 | |
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obedience
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| n.服从，顺从 | |
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savage
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| adj.野蛮的；凶恶的，残暴的；n.未开化的人 | |
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taboo
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| n.禁忌，禁止接近，禁止使用；adj.禁忌的；v.禁忌，禁制，禁止 | |
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sedately
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sedateness
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tryst
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| n.约会；v.与…幽会 | |
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ass
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| n.驴；傻瓜，蠢笨的人 | |
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11
demure
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| adj.严肃的；端庄的 | |
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12
innocency
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| 无罪，洁白 | |
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13
snob
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| n.势利小人，自以为高雅、有学问的人 | |
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14
humiliated
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| 感到羞愧的 | |
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15
repelled
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| v.击退( repel的过去式和过去分词 )；使厌恶；排斥；推开 | |
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16
culpable
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| adj.有罪的，该受谴责的 | |
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17
defiance
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| n.挑战，挑衅，蔑视，违抗 | |
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18
candidly
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| adv.坦率地，直率而诚恳地 | |
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19
throbbing
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| a. 跳动的,悸动的 | |
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20
softened
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| （使）变软( soften的过去式和过去分词 )； 缓解打击； 缓和； 安慰 | |
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21
disastrous
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| adj.灾难性的，造成灾害的；极坏的，很糟的 | |
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22
recoil
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| vi.退却，退缩，畏缩 | |
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23
indirectly
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| adv.间接地，不直接了当地 | |
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24
calamity
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| n.灾害，祸患，不幸事件 | |
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25
entirely
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| ad.全部地，完整地；完全地，彻底地 | |
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26
haughtily
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| adv. 傲慢地, 高傲地 | |
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27
impulsive
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| adj.冲动的，刺激的；有推动力的 | |
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28
folly
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| n.愚笨，愚蠢，蠢事，蠢行，傻话 | |
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29
iniquitous
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| adj.不公正的；邪恶的；高得出奇的 | |
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30
injustice
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| n.非正义，不公正，不公平，侵犯（别人的）权利 | |
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31
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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32
pier
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| n.码头；桥墩，桥柱；[建]窗间壁，支柱 | |
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33
decided
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| adj.决定了的，坚决的；明显的，明确的 | |
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34
grove
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| n.林子，小树林，园林 | |
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35
nay
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| adv.不；n.反对票，投反对票者 | |
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36
beholding
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| v.看，注视( behold的现在分词 )；瞧；看呀；（叙述中用于引出某人意外的出现）哎哟 | |
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37
upwards
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| adv.向上，在更高处...以上 | |
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38
decrepit
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| adj.衰老的，破旧的 | |
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39
funnel
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| n.漏斗；烟囱；v.汇集 | |
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40
poising
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| 使平衡( poise的现在分词 )； 保持（某种姿势）； 抓紧； 使稳定 | |
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41
neatly
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| adv.整洁地，干净地，灵巧地，熟练地 | |
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42
mooring
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| n.停泊处；系泊用具，系船具；下锚v.停泊，系泊（船只）(moor的现在分词) | |
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43
oar
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| n.桨，橹，划手；v.划行 | |
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44
piers
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| n.水上平台( pier的名词复数 )；（常设有娱乐场所的）突堤；柱子；墙墩 | |
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45
melancholy
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|
| n.忧郁，愁思；adj.令人感伤（沮丧）的，忧郁的 | |
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46
authenticity
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| n.真实性 | |
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47
begotten
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| v.为…之生父( beget的过去分词 )；产生，引起 | |
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48
prow
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| n.(飞机)机头，船头 | |
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49
gusty
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| adj.起大风的 | |
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50
foamy
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| adj.全是泡沫的，泡沫的，起泡沫的 | |
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51
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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52
estuary
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| n.河口，江口 | |
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53
mighty
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| adj.强有力的；巨大的 | |
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54
flux
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| n.流动；不断的改变 | |
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55
everlasting
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| adj.永恒的，持久的，无止境的 | |
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56
obsessed
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| adj.心神不宁的,鬼迷心窍的,沉迷的 | |
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57
tormenting
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| 使痛苦的，使苦恼的 | |
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58
enigma
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| n.谜，谜一样的人或事 | |
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59
arrogance
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| n.傲慢，自大 | |
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60
utterly
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| adv.完全地，绝对地 | |
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61
penetrated
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| adj. 击穿的，鞭辟入里的 动词penetrate的过去式和过去分词形式 | |
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62
barges
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| 驳船( barge的名词复数 ) | |
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63
dwarf
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| n.矮子，侏儒，矮小的动植物；vt.使…矮小 | |
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64
brook
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| n.小河，溪；v.忍受，容让 | |
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65
gaily
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| adv.欢乐地，高兴地 | |
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66
tugs
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| n.猛拉( tug的名词复数 )；猛拖；拖船v.用力拉，使劲拉，猛扯( tug的第三人称单数 ) | |
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67
serpentine
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|
| adj.蜿蜒的，弯曲的 | |
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68
perilously
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| adv.充满危险地，危机四伏地 | |
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69
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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70
belittling
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| 使显得微小，轻视，贬低( belittle的现在分词 ) | |
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71
humbled
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|
| adj. 卑下的，谦逊的，粗陋的 vt. 使 ... 卑下，贬低 | |
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72
longings
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| 渴望，盼望( longing的名词复数 ) | |
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73
gorge
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| n.咽喉，胃，暴食，山峡；v.塞饱，狼吞虎咽地吃 | |
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74
passionately
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| ad.热烈地，激烈地 | |
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75
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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76
disdain
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|
| n.鄙视，轻视；v.轻视，鄙视，不屑 | |
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77
nervously
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|
| adv.神情激动地，不安地 | |
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78
touching
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| adj.动人的，使人感伤的 | |
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79
stylish
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|
| adj.流行的，时髦的；漂亮的，气派的 | |
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80
arcade
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| n.拱廊；(一侧或两侧有商店的)通道 | |
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81
provocative
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| adj.挑衅的，煽动的，刺激的，挑逗的 | |
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82
vivacious
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|
| adj.活泼的，快活的 | |
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83
timorously
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|
| adv.胆怯地，羞怯地 | |
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84
striated
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| adj.有纵线，条纹的 | |
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85
variegated
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| adj.斑驳的，杂色的 | |
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86
funnels
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| 漏斗( funnel的名词复数 )； （轮船，火车等的）烟囱 | |
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87
frail
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| adj.身体虚弱的；易损坏的 | |
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88
wharves
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| n.码头，停泊处( wharf的名词复数 ) | |
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89
smoothly
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|
| adv.平滑地，顺利地，流利地，流畅地 | |
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90
riotous
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| adj.骚乱的；狂欢的 | |
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91
spurned
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| v.一脚踢开，拒绝接受( spurn的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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92
tremor
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| n.震动，颤动，战栗，兴奋，地震 | |
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93
sarcasm
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| n.讥讽，讽刺，嘲弄，反话 （adj.sarcastic） | |
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94
resentment
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| n.怨愤，忿恨 | |
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95
placate
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| v.抚慰，平息(愤怒) | |
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96
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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97
haphazard
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| adj.无计划的，随意的，杂乱无章的 | |
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98
astounded
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| v.使震惊(astound的过去式和过去分词)；愕然；愕；惊讶 | |
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99
eyebrows
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| 眉毛( eyebrow的名词复数 ) | |
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100
domed
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| adj. 圆屋顶的, 半球形的, 拱曲的 动词dome的过去式和过去分词形式 | |
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101
fabulously
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| 难以置信地，惊人地 | |
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102
apprehensions
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| 疑惧 | |
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103
sardonically
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| adv.讽刺地，冷嘲地 | |
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104
disillusions
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| 使不再抱幻想，使理想破灭( disillusion的第三人称单数 ) | |
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105
forerunners
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| n.先驱( forerunner的名词复数 )；开路人；先兆；前兆 | |
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106
supreme
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| adj.极度的，最重要的；至高的，最高的 | |
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107
pompous
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| adj.傲慢的，自大的；夸大的；豪华的 | |
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108
monarch
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| n.帝王，君主，最高统治者 | |
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109
sublime
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| adj.崇高的，伟大的；极度的，不顾后果的 | |
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110
deluded
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| v.欺骗，哄骗( delude的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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111
grandeur
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| n.伟大，崇高，宏伟，庄严，豪华 | |
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112
Christian
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| adj.基督教徒的；n.基督教徒 | |
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113
ineffable
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| adj.无法表达的，不可言喻的 | |
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114
resounded
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| v.（指声音等）回荡于某处( resound的过去式和过去分词 )；产生回响；（指某处）回荡着声音 | |
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115
inevitable
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| adj.不可避免的，必然发生的 | |
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116
fatuity
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| n.愚蠢，愚昧 | |
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117
imprisoned
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| 下狱，监禁( imprison的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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118
wren
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| n.鹪鹩；英国皇家海军女子服务队成员 | |
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119
slanders
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| 诽谤，诋毁( slander的名词复数 ) | |
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120
immortally
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| 不朽地，永世地，无限地 | |
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121
blithely
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| adv.欢乐地，快活地，无挂虑地 | |
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122
corrupt
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| v.贿赂，收买；adj.腐败的，贪污的 | |
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123
manifestations
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| n.表示，显示（manifestation的复数形式） | |
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124
decadence
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| n.衰落，颓废 | |
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125
marvels
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| n.奇迹( marvel的名词复数 )；令人惊奇的事物（或事例）；不平凡的成果；成就v.惊奇，对…感到惊奇( marvel的第三人称单数 ) | |
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126
outrage
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| n.暴行，侮辱，愤怒；vt.凌辱，激怒 | |
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127
aborted
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| adj.流产的，失败的v.（使）流产( abort的过去式和过去分词 )；（使）（某事物）中止；（因故障等而）（使）（飞机、宇宙飞船、导弹等）中断飞行；（使）（飞行任务等）中途失败 | |
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128
victoriously
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| adv.获胜地，胜利地 | |
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129
indifference
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| n.不感兴趣，不关心，冷淡，不在乎 | |
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130
penury
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| n.贫穷，拮据 | |
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131
miserable
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| adj.悲惨的，痛苦的；可怜的，糟糕的 | |
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132
triumphant
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| adj.胜利的，成功的；狂欢的，喜悦的 | |
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133
concurred
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| 同意（concur的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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134
ashore
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| adv.在(向)岸上，上岸 | |
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135
facade
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| n.(建筑物的)正面，临街正面；外表 | |
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136
majestically
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| 雄伟地； 庄重地； 威严地； 崇高地 | |
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137
sensational
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| adj.使人感动的，非常好的，轰动的，耸人听闻的 | |
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138
artistic
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| adj.艺术(家)的，美术(家)的；善于艺术创作的 | |
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139
perfectly
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| adv.完美地，无可非议地，彻底地 | |
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140
embryo
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| n.胚胎，萌芽的事物 | |
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141
maturity
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| n.成熟；完成；(支票、债券等)到期 | |
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142
solitary
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| adj.孤独的，独立的，荒凉的；n.隐士 | |
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143
kindly
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| adj.和蔼的，温和的，爽快的；adv.温和地，亲切地 | |
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144
persuasively
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| adv.口才好地；令人信服地 | |
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145
dictatorially
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| adv.独裁地，自大地 | |
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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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147
determined
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| adj.坚定的；有决心的 | |
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148
abruptly
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| adv.突然地，出其不意地 | |
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149
overcast
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| adj.阴天的，阴暗的，愁闷的；v.遮盖，（使）变暗，包边缝；n.覆盖，阴天 | |
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150
varied
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| adj.多样的，多变化的 | |
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151
injustices
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| 不公平( injustice的名词复数 )； 非正义； 待…不公正； 冤枉 | |
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affected
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| adj.不自然的，假装的 | |
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153
entangled
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| adj.卷入的；陷入的；被缠住的；缠在一起的v.使某人（某物/自己）缠绕，纠缠于（某物中），使某人（自己）陷入（困难或复杂的环境中）( entangle的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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154
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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reiterating
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| 反复地说，重申( reiterate的现在分词 ) | |
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156
pious
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| adj.虔诚的；道貌岸然的 | |
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aspiration
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| n.志向，志趣抱负；渴望；(语)送气音；吸出 | |
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158
averted
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| 防止，避免( avert的过去式和过去分词 )； 转移 | |
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159
noted
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| adj.著名的，知名的 | |
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160
tiff
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| n.小争吵，生气 | |
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161
recurred
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| 再发生，复发( recur的过去式和过去分词 )； 治愈 | |
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162
swelling
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| n.肿胀 | |
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163
mitigated
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| v.减轻，缓和( mitigate的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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164
faltered
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| （嗓音）颤抖( falter的过去式和过去分词 )； 支吾其词； 蹒跚； 摇晃 | |
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165
obstinate
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| adj.顽固的，倔强的，不易屈服的，较难治愈的 | |
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166
moored
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| adj. 系泊的 动词moor的过去式和过去分词形式 | |
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167
testily
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| adv. 易怒地, 暴躁地 | |
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168
dwellings
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| n.住处，处所( dwelling的名词复数 ) | |
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169
tragic
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| adj.悲剧的，悲剧性的，悲惨的 | |
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170
reliability
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| n.可靠性，确实性 | |
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171
outrageous
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| adj.无理的，令人不能容忍的 | |
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172
prospect
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| n.前景，前途；景色，视野 | |
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173
unbearable
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| adj.不能容忍的；忍受不住的 | |
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174
instinctively
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| adv.本能地 | |
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175
condemned
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| adj. 被责难的, 被宣告有罪的 动词condemn的过去式和过去分词 | |
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176
neutralized
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| v.使失效( neutralize的过去式和过去分词 )；抵消；中和；使（一个国家）中立化 | |
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177
delusion
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| n.谬见，欺骗，幻觉，迷惑 | |
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178
remarkable
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| adj.显著的，异常的，非凡的，值得注意的 | |
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179
banal
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| adj.陈腐的，平庸的 | |
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180
drawn
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| v.拖，拉，拔出；adj.憔悴的，紧张的 | |
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181
exquisite
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| adj.精美的；敏锐的；剧烈的，感觉强烈的 | |
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182
secrecy
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| n.秘密，保密，隐蔽 | |
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183
humiliation
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| n.羞辱 | |
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184
loathed
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| v.憎恨，厌恶( loathe的过去式和过去分词 )；极不喜欢 | |
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