Two people were in the office when she entered, one a redcoat, evidently acting3 in some clerical capacity; the other a girl whom Rouletta had never seen. The colonel was engaged, so Rouletta was told, and she sat down to wait. With furtive4 curiosity she began to study this other young woman. It was plain that the latter was a privileged person, for she made herself perfectly5 at home and appeared to be not in the least chilled by the official formality of her surroundings. She wandered restlessly about the room, humming a tune6 under her breath; she readjusted the window-curtains to her liking8; she idly thumbed the books upon the shelves; finally she perched herself upon the table in the midst of the documents upon which the officer was engaged, and began a low-voiced conversation with him.
Rouletta was not a little impressed by this stranger. She had never seen a finer, healthier, cleaner-cut girl. Here for once was a "nice" woman of the town who did not stare at her with open and offensive curiosity. She was not surprised when she overheard the Police officer address her as "Miss Cavendish." No wonder this girl had poise9 and breeding—the Cavendishes were the best people in the community. With a jealous pang10 the caller reflected that the colonel's daughter was very much what she herself would like to be, very much her ideal, so far as she could judge.
When, eventually, the commandant himself emerged from his sanctum, he paused for a moment at his daughter's side; then he approached Rouletta.
"You did quite right in coming here," he declared, "and I'm sure this dance-hall girl knows more than she has told. In fact, I was on the point of sending for her. Please wait until she arrives. Perhaps we can straighten out this whole unpleasant affair informally. I'll need Phillips, too. Meanwhile, there's a friend of yours inside." Stepping to the inner door, he spoke12 to some one, and an instant later the Countess Courteau came forth13.
Rouletta had not seen the Countess alone since early the previous evening. She went swiftly to her now and placed an arm about her shoulders. Hilda responded to this mark of sympathy with a weary smile.
"Well, I had to go through with it to the bitter end," she said, in a low voice. "Henri didn't spare me even that."
Rouletta pressed her closer, murmuring: "Colonel Cavendish is a fine man—I'm sure he understands. You've undergone a dreadful ordeal15, but—it's nearly over. He's sending for Laure now. She can tell a good deal, if she will."
"About the theft, yes. But what about the—murder? Joe McCaskey did it. There's no doubt about that. Henri weakened, after I gave him his chance. He got to drinking, I hear, and evidently he conceived the notion of telling those men. He may have gone to warn them, to appeal to them. I don't know. Then they must have quarreled. It's all clear enough when you understand the inside facts. Without knowing them, it was natural to suspect Pierce, so—I did what I had to do. I doubt if Laure knows anything about this part of the affair."
The two women were still talking when Laure entered, in company with the Mounted Police officer who had been sent to fetch her. At sight of them she halted; a sudden pallor came into her cheeks; she cast a glance of alarm about her as if seeking retreat; but Colonel Cavendish grimly invited her to follow him, and stepped into his private office. The new-comer faltered16; then with a defiant17 toss of her head and with lips curled in disdain18 she obeyed; the door closed behind her.
Rouletta and the Countess Courteau fell silent now. They found nothing to talk about, and in spite of themselves they strained their ears for some sound from the other room. Even Miss Cavendish seemed vaguely19 to feel the suspense20, for she finally took her stand beside a frost-rimed window and engaged herself in tracing patterns thereon with the tip of her finger. An occasional stormy murmur14 of voices, deadened by the thick log partition, indicated that Laure and her inquisitor were not getting on well together.
Suddenly the girl at the window started; her apathy21 vanished; her expression of boredom22 gave place to one of such lively anticipation23 as to draw the attention of the two other women. A magic change came over her; she became suddenly animated24, alive, atingle in every nerve; her eyes sparkled and a new color flooded her cheeks. The alteration25 interested her observers; they were mystified as to its cause until a quick step sounded in the entry and the door opened to admit Pierce Phillips.
It was natural that he should first see Miss Cavendish, and that he should greet her before recognizing the other occupants of the room. It was natural, too, that he should be a trifle nonplussed26 at finding Hilda here; nevertheless, he managed to cover his lack of ease. Not so, however, when, a moment later, the door to Colonel Cavendish's office opened and Laure, of all persons, appeared therein. Quickly Pierce inferred the reason for his summons, but, happily for him, he was spared further embarrassment27. Cavendish called to him, took him by the hand in the friendliest manner, and again disappeared into his retreat, drawing the young man with him.
Brief as had been the interruption, both Hilda and Rouletta had gathered much from it; their inference was borne out when Laure paused before them and in a voice subdued28 by the very force of her agitation29 exclaimed:
"Well, I hope you're satisfied! I got it, and got it good." Her face was livid, her dark eyes were blazing wrathfully. She outthrust a shaking hand and unclenched her fingers, displaying therein a crumpled30 sheet of pink paper, a printed official form, the telltale tint31 of which indicated its fateful character. Both of her hearers were familiar with the so-called "pink tickets" of the Mounted Police; every one in the Northwest Territory, in fact, knew what they were—deportation orders. But in a tone hoarse32 and suppressed Laure read, "'—leave by the first safe conveyance33!' That's what it says—the first safe conveyance. I suppose you'd like it better if it were a blue ticket and I had to leave in twenty-four hours. You put it over, but I won't forget. I'll get even with you."
"We had nothing to do with that," the Countess declared, quietly. "I'm sorry you take it so hard, but—it serves you right."
"Who wouldn't take it hard? To be expelled, fired out like a thief, a—" The girl's voice broke; then she pulled herself together and uttered a quavering, artificial laugh. She tossed her head again, with an obvious attempt at defiance34. "Oh, it takes more than a pink ticket to down me! Anyhow, I'm sick of this place, sick of the people. I hate them." With a vicious fling of her shoulders she swept on to a seat as far from them as possible and sank into it.
So the girl had confessed, Hilda reflected. She was glad, for Pierce's sake, that this miserable35 complication was in process of clearing up and that he would be finally and completely exonerated36; she was glad, too, that her efforts in his behalf, her humiliation37, had borne fruit. He would never know how high he had made her pay, but that was all right. She felt very gently toward him at this moment, and experienced a certain wistful desire that he might understand how unselfish had been her part. It might make a difference; probably it would. Things now were not as they had been. She was a free woman. This thought obtruded38 itself insistently39 into the midst of her meditations40. Yes, Courteau was gone; there was no reason now why she could not look any man honestly in the eye. Of course, there was the same disparity in years between her and Pierce which she had recognized from the beginning, but, after all, was that necessarily fatal? He had loved her genuinely enough at one time. Hilda recalled that windy night on the shores of Linderman when the whimper of a rising storm came out of the darkness, when the tree-tops tossed their branches to the sky, and when her own soul had broken its fetters41 and defied restraint. She thrilled at memory of those strong young arms about her, those hot lips pressing hers. That was a moment to remember always. And those dreamy, magic days that had followed, the more delightful42, the more unreal because she had deliberately43 drugged her conscience. Then that night at White Horse! He had told her bitterly, broken-heartedly, that he could never forget. Perhaps even yet—With an effort Hilda Courteau roused herself. Never forget? Why, he had forgotten the very next day, as was quite natural. No, she was a foolish sentimentalist, and he—well, he was just one whom fate had cast for a lover's role, one destined44 to excite affection in women, good and bad. Some day he would find his mate and—Hilda believed she loved him well enough to rejoice in his happiness when it came. There spoke the maternal45 instinct which Phillips had the knack46 of rousing; for want of something better, she determined47 she would cherish that.
Meanwhile Laure sat in her corner, her head bowed, her very soul in revolt. She was tasting failure, disappointment, balked48 desire, and it was like gall49 in her mouth. She could have cried out aloud in her rage. She hated these other women whom she blamed for her undoing50; she hated Cavendish, Pierce Phillips, herself.
"It serves me right," she told herself, furiously. "I deserve the pink ticket for making a fool of myself. Yes, a FOOL! What has Pierce ever done for me? Nothing. And I—?" Before her mind's eye came a vision of the opportunities she had let slip, the chances she had ignored. She knew full well that she could have had the pick of many men—the new-made millionaires of Dawson—but instead she had chosen him. And why? Merely because he had a way, a smile, a warm and pleasing personality—some magnetic appeal too intangible to identify. It was like her to make the wrong choice—she always did. She had come North with but one desire, one determination—namely, to make money, to reap to the full her share of this free harvest. She had given up the life she liked, the people she knew, the comforts she craved53, for that and for nothing else, and what a mess she had made of the venture! Other girls not half so smart, not half so pretty as she, had feathered their nests right here before her eyes, while she was wasting her time. They had kept their heads, and they would go out in the spring, first class, with good clothes and a bank-roll in the purser's safe. Some of them were married and respectable. "Never again!" she whispered to herself. "The next one will pay." Chagrin54 at the treatment she had suffered filled her with a poisonous hatred55 of all mankind, and soundlessly she cursed Phillips as the cause of her present plight56.
Such thoughts as these ran tumbling through the girl's mind; her rage and her resentment57 were real enough; nevertheless, through this overtone there ran another note; a small voice was speaking in the midst of all her tumult—a small voice which she refused to listen to. "What I ever saw in him I don't know," she sneered58, goading59 herself to further bitterness and stiffening60 her courage. "I never really cared for him; I'm too wise for that. I don't care for him now. I detest61 the poor, simple-minded fool. I—HATE him." So she fought with herself, drowning the persistent62 piping of that other voice. Then her eyes dropped to that fatal paper in her lap and suddenly venom63 fled from her. She wondered if Cavendish would tell Pierce that he had given her the pink ticket. Probably not. The Mounted Police were usually close-mouthed about such things, and yet—Laure crushed the paper into a crumpled ball and furtively64 hid it in the pocket of her coat; then she raised wild, apprehensive65 eyes to the door. If only she dared slip out now, before Pierce reappeared, before he had a chance to see her. It seemed as if she could not bear to have him know, but—Cavendish had ordered her to wait. "My God!" the girl whispered. "I'll die, if he knows! I'll die!" She began to tremble wretchedly and to wring66 her hands; she could not remove her gaze from the door.
This waiting-room at the Barracks had housed people of divers67 and many sorts during its brief history; it had harbored strained faces, it had been the scene of strong emotional conflicts, but never, perhaps, had its narrow walls encompassed68 emotions in wider contrast than those experienced by the four silent women who waited there at this moment. One object of interest dominated the thoughts of each of them. These thoughts were similar in nature and sprang from the same starting-point. Curiously69 enough, however, they took channels as wide apart as the poles.
Josephine Cavendish had heard just enough about the incidents of the previous night to awaken70 her apprehensions71 and to stir her feeling of loyalty72 to the depths. The suggestion that Pierce Phillips was in the slightest degree responsible for the death of Count Courteau had roused her indignation and her fighting-blood. Unable to endure the suspense of idle waiting, she had sought relief by assuming a sort of sentinel post where she could watch developments. It was something to be close to his affairs. It was next to being close to him; hence the reason of her presence and her insistence73 upon remaining.
In her mind there had never been the slightest question of Pierce's innocence74; any doubt of it, expressed or implied, awoke in her a sharp and bitter antagonism75 quite remarkable76; no bird could have flown quicker to the aid of her chick, no wolf mother could have bristled77 more ferociously78 at threat to her cub79, than did this serene80, inexperienced girl-woman at hint of peril81 to Pierce Phillips. And yet, on the surface, at least, she and Pierce were only friends. He had never voiced a word of love to her. But—of what use are words when hearts are full and when confession82 lurks83 in every glance, every gesture; when every commonplace is thrilling and significant?
In her eyes no disgrace whatever attached to him as a result of the notoriety he had suffered. On the contrary, she considered him a martyr84, a hero, the object of a deep conspiracy85, and his wrongs smarted her. He was, in short, a romantic figure. Moreover, she had recently begun to believe that this entire situation was contrived86 purely87 for the purpose of bringing them together, of acquainting them with each other, and of testing the strength of their mutual88 regard. These other women, whom she saw to-day for the first time, she considered merely extra figures in the drama of which she and Pierce played the leads—witnesses in the case deserving no attention. She would be grateful to them, of course, if they succeeded in helping89 him, but, at best, they were minor90 characters, supers in the cast. Once Pierce himself strode into the scene, she forgot them entirely91.
What a picture her lover made, she reflected; how he filled her eye! What importance he possessed92! Surely the world must see and feel how dominant93, how splendid he was. It must recognize how impossible it would be for him to do wrong. The mere51 sight of him had set her to vibrating, and now inspired in her a certain reckless abandon; guilty or innocent, he was her mate and she would have followed him at a word. But—he was innocent; it was her part to wait here as patiently as she could until the fact was proved and until he could ask that question which forever trembled between them.
Such thoughts as these were impossible to conceal94; they were mirrored upon the face of the colonel's daughter as she stood raptly gazing at the door through which Pierce Phillips had disappeared. Her lips were parted; the shadow of the smile his coming had evoked95 still lingered upon them; her soul was in her shining eyes. Unknown to her, at least one of the other women present had read her sudden emotions and now watched her curiously, with an intent and growing astonishment96.
Rouletta Kirby had been as quick as the Countess to correctly interpret Laure's chagrin, and she, too, had experienced a tremendous relief. Oddly enough, however, she had felt no such fierce and jealous exultation97 as she had anticipated; there had been no selfish thrill such as she had expected. What ailed98 her? she wondered. While groping for an answer, her attention had been challenged by the expression upon Miss Cavendish's face, and vaguely she began to comprehend the truth. Breathlessly now she watched the girl; slowly conviction grew into certainty.
So! That was why the colonel's daughter was here. That was why, at sound of a certain step, she had become glorified99. That was why Pierce had been blind to her own and Hilda's presence in the room.
It would be untrue to say that Rouletta was not shocked by this discovery. It came like a thunderclap, and its very unexpectedness jolted100 her mind out of the ruts it had been following these many days. But, astonishing to relate, it caused her no anguish101. After the first moment or two of dizzy bewilderment had passed she found that her whole being was galvanized into new life and that the eyes of her soul were opened to a new light. With understanding came a peculiar emotional let-down, a sudden, welcome relaxation—almost a sensation of relief.
Rouletta asked herself, over and over, what could be the matter with her; why she felt no twinge, no jealousy102; why the sight of that eager, breathless girl with the rapturous face failed to cause her a heartache. She was amazed at herself. It could not be that she no longer cared for Pierce, that she had mistaken her feelings toward him. No, he was what he had always been—her ideal—the finest, the most lovable, the dearest creature she had ever met; just the sort of fellow she had always longed to know, the kind any girl would crave52 for lover, friend, brother. She felt very tender toward him. She was not greatly surprised that the nicest girl in Dawson had recognized his charm and had surrendered to it. Well, he deserved the nicest girl in the world.
Rouletta was startled at the direction her thoughts were taking. Did she love Pierce Phillips as she had believed she did, or had she merely fallen in love with his good qualities? Certainly he had never been dearer to her than he was at this moment, and yet—Rouletta abandoned the problem of self-analysis and allowed her bubbling relief at the turn events had taken to remain a mystery for the time being.
The door to the commandant's office opened without warning. Pierce stood framed in it. His head was up, his shoulders were back, his countenance103 was alight; with confident tread he entered the big room and crossed it directly to the girl who stood waiting beside the table. He held out his two hands to her and with a flash of her clear blue eyes she placed hers in his. Gladness, trust, blind faith, and adoration104 were in her face. She murmured something which Rouletta did not hear, for at that instant Colonel Cavendish appeared with the curt7 announcement:
"That is all, ladies. You needn't remain longer."
Blindly, confusedly, Rouletta rose and fumbled105 with her wraps. She saw the colonel go to Laure and speak with her in a stiff, formal way. She saw Pierce and Josephine turn away hand in hand, their heads close together—he had not even glanced in her direction; then Cavendish was speaking to her directly.
At first she did not understand him, but finally made out that he was telling her that everything had been cleared up, including even the mystery of Count Courteau's gold-sack.
"Laure confessed that she got a duplicate key to the cashier's cage," she heard the colonel say. "Got it from Pierce. It was she who put the evidence in there during the confusion. Pretty ingenious, I call it, and pretty spiteful."
"Did she—have anything to say about the—the murder?" Rouletta inquired.
"No. But the Countess has that figured out right, I'm sure. We'll have the proof when Rock brings back his prisoners."
As Rouletta moved toward the door Pierce stopped her. There was a ring in his voice as he said:
"Rouletta, I want you to meet Miss Cavendish. I want the two nicest girls in the world to know each other. Josephine, this is Miss Kirby, of whom I've said so much." Then without reason he laughed joyously106, and so did the colonel's daughter.
The latter took Rouletta's hand in a warm and friendly clasp. Her smiling lips were tremulous. Engagingly, shyly, she said:
"Pierce has told me how splendid you've been to him, and I'm sure you're as happy as we are, but—things always come out right if we wish for them hard enough. Don't you think so?"
The Countess Courteau was walking slowly when Rouletta overtook her a block or so down the street. She looked up as the younger woman joined her.
"Well," she said, "I presume you saw. Not a look, not a thought for any one but her—that other girl."
"Yes, I saw." There was a pause, then: "She's wonderful. I think I'm very glad."
"Glad?" Hilda raised her brows; she glanced curiously at the speaker.
"If I had a brother I'd want him to love a girl like that."
"But—you have no brother, outside of 'Poleon Doret." Hilda was more than ever amazed when her companion laughed softly, contentedly107.
"I know, but if I had one, I'd want him to be like—Pierce. I—My dear, something has changed in me, oh, surprisingly! I scarcely know what it is, but—I'm walking on air and my eyes are open for the first time. And you? We've been honest with each other—how do you feel?"
"I?" The Countess smiled wistfully. "Why—it doesn't matter how I feel!
The boy has found himself, and nothing else is of the least importance."
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peculiar
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| adj.古怪的，异常的；特殊的，特有的 | |
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justified
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| a.正当的，有理的 | |
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acting
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| n.演戏，行为，假装；adj.代理的，临时的，演出用的 | |
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furtive
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| adj.鬼鬼崇崇的，偷偷摸摸的 | |
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perfectly
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| adv.完美地，无可非议地，彻底地 | |
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tune
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| n.调子；和谐，协调；v.调音，调节，调整 | |
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curt
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| adj.简短的，草率的 | |
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liking
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| n.爱好；嗜好；喜欢 | |
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poise
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| vt./vi. 平衡，保持平衡；n.泰然自若，自信 | |
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pang
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| n.剧痛，悲痛，苦闷 | |
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briefly
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| adv.简单地，简短地 | |
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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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forth
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| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
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murmur
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| n.低语，低声的怨言；v.低语，低声而言 | |
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ordeal
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| n.苦难经历，（尤指对品格、耐力的）严峻考验 | |
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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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defiant
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| adj.无礼的，挑战的 | |
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disdain
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| n.鄙视，轻视；v.轻视，鄙视，不屑 | |
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vaguely
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| adv.含糊地，暖昧地 | |
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suspense
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| n.（对可能发生的事）紧张感，担心，挂虑 | |
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apathy
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| n.漠不关心，无动于衷；冷淡 | |
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boredom
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| n.厌烦，厌倦，乏味，无聊 | |
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anticipation
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| n.预期，预料，期望 | |
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animated
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| adj.生气勃勃的，活跃的，愉快的 | |
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alteration
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| n.变更，改变；蚀变 | |
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nonplussed
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| adj.不知所措的，陷于窘境的v.使迷惑( nonplus的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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embarrassment
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| n.尴尬；使人为难的人(事物)；障碍；窘迫 | |
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subdued
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| adj. 屈服的，柔和的，减弱的 动词subdue的过去式和过去分词 | |
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agitation
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| n.搅动；搅拌；鼓动，煽动 | |
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crumpled
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| adj. 弯扭的, 变皱的 动词crumple的过去式和过去分词形式 | |
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tint
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| n.淡色，浅色；染发剂；vt.着以淡淡的颜色 | |
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hoarse
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| adj.嘶哑的，沙哑的 | |
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conveyance
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| n.(不动产等的)转让，让与；转让证书；传送；运送；表达；（正）运输工具 | |
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defiance
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| n.挑战，挑衅，蔑视，违抗 | |
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miserable
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| adj.悲惨的，痛苦的；可怜的，糟糕的 | |
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exonerated
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| v.使免罪，免除( exonerate的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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humiliation
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| n.羞辱 | |
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obtruded
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| v.强行向前，强行，强迫( obtrude的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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insistently
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| ad.坚持地 | |
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meditations
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| 默想( meditation的名词复数 )； 默念； 沉思； 冥想 | |
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fetters
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| n.脚镣( fetter的名词复数 )；束缚v.给…上脚镣，束缚( fetter的第三人称单数 ) | |
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delightful
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| adj.令人高兴的，使人快乐的 | |
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deliberately
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| adv.审慎地；蓄意地；故意地 | |
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destined
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| adj.命中注定的；(for)以…为目的地的 | |
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maternal
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| adj.母亲的，母亲般的，母系的，母方的 | |
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knack
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| n.诀窍，做事情的灵巧的，便利的方法 | |
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determined
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| adj.坚定的；有决心的 | |
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48
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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49
gall
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| v.使烦恼，使焦躁，难堪；n.磨难 | |
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50
undoing
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| n.毁灭的原因，祸根；破坏，毁灭 | |
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mere
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| adj.纯粹的；仅仅，只不过 | |
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52
crave
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| vt.渴望得到，迫切需要，恳求，请求 | |
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53
craved
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| 渴望，热望( crave的过去式 )； 恳求，请求 | |
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54
chagrin
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| n.懊恼；气愤；委屈 | |
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hatred
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| n.憎恶，憎恨，仇恨 | |
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56
plight
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| n.困境，境况，誓约，艰难；vt.宣誓，保证，约定 | |
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57
resentment
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| n.怨愤，忿恨 | |
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58
sneered
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| 讥笑，冷笑( sneer的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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59
goading
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| v.刺激( goad的现在分词 )；激励；（用尖棒）驱赶；驱使（或怂恿、刺激）某人 | |
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60
stiffening
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| n. (使衣服等)变硬的材料, 硬化 动词stiffen的现在分词形式 | |
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61
detest
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| vt.痛恨，憎恶 | |
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persistent
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| adj.坚持不懈的，执意的；持续的 | |
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venom
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| n.毒液，恶毒，痛恨 | |
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furtively
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| adv. 偷偷地, 暗中地 | |
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apprehensive
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| adj.担心的，恐惧的，善于领会的 | |
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wring
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| n.扭绞；v.拧，绞出，扭 | |
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divers
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| adj.不同的；种种的 | |
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encompassed
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| v.围绕( encompass的过去式和过去分词 )；包围；包含；包括 | |
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curiously
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| adv.有求知欲地；好问地；奇特地 | |
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awaken
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| vi.醒，觉醒；vt.唤醒，使觉醒，唤起，激起 | |
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71
apprehensions
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| 疑惧 | |
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72
loyalty
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| n.忠诚，忠心 | |
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insistence
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| n.坚持；强调；坚决主张 | |
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innocence
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| n.无罪；天真；无害 | |
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antagonism
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| n.对抗，敌对，对立 | |
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remarkable
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| adj.显著的，异常的，非凡的，值得注意的 | |
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bristled
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| adj. 直立的，多刺毛的 动词bristle的过去式和过去分词 | |
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ferociously
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| 野蛮地，残忍地 | |
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cub
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| n.幼兽，年轻无经验的人 | |
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serene
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| adj. 安详的，宁静的，平静的 | |
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peril
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| n.(严重的)危险；危险的事物 | |
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confession
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| n.自白，供认，承认 | |
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83
lurks
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| n.潜在，潜伏；（lurk的复数形式）vi.潜伏，埋伏（lurk的第三人称单数形式） | |
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84
martyr
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| n.烈士，殉难者；vt.杀害，折磨，牺牲 | |
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85
conspiracy
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| n.阴谋，密谋，共谋 | |
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86
contrived
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| adj.不自然的，做作的；虚构的 | |
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purely
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| adv.纯粹地，完全地 | |
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mutual
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| adj.相互的，彼此的；共同的，共有的 | |
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helping
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| n.食物的一份&adj.帮助人的，辅助的 | |
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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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entirely
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| ad.全部地，完整地；完全地，彻底地 | |
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possessed
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| adj.疯狂的；拥有的，占有的 | |
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dominant
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| adj.支配的，统治的；占优势的；显性的；n.主因，要素，主要的人(或物)；显性基因 | |
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conceal
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| v.隐藏，隐瞒，隐蔽 | |
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95
evoked
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| [医]诱发的 | |
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96
astonishment
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| n.惊奇，惊异 | |
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97
exultation
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| n.狂喜，得意 | |
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98
ailed
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| v.生病( ail的过去式和过去分词 )；感到不舒服；处境困难；境况不佳 | |
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99
glorified
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| 美其名的，变荣耀的 | |
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100
jolted
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| （使）摇动， （使）震惊( jolt的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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101
anguish
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| n.(尤指心灵上的)极度痛苦，烦恼 | |
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102
jealousy
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| n.妒忌，嫉妒，猜忌 | |
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103
countenance
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| n.脸色，面容；面部表情；vt.支持，赞同 | |
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104
adoration
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| n.爱慕，崇拜 | |
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105
fumbled
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| （笨拙地）摸索或处理（某事物）( fumble的过去式和过去分词 )； 乱摸，笨拙地弄； 使落下 | |
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106
joyously
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| ad.快乐地, 高兴地 | |
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107
contentedly
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| adv.心满意足地 | |
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