The sages1 of the madrono grove2 were at table, and, with Paula, Dick and Graham, made up the dinner party of seven.
“Mere4 naming of one’s position does not settle it, Terrence,” Dick replied. “I know my point is Carlylean, but that does not invalidate it. Hero-worship is a very good thing. I am talking, not as a mere scholastic5, but as a practical breeder with whom the application of Mendelian methods is an every-day commonplace.”
“And I am to conclude,” Hancock broke in, “that a Hottentot is as good as a white man?”
“Now the South speaks, Aaron,” Dick retorted with a smile. “Prejudice, not of birth, but of early environment, is too strong for all your philosophy to shake. It is as bad as Herbert Spencer’s handicap of the early influence of the Manchester School.”
Dick shook his head.
“Let me say this, Hyal. I think I can make it clear. The average Hottentot, or the average Melanesian, is pretty close to being on a par with the average white man. The difference lies in that there are proportionately so many more Hottentots and negroes who are merely average, while there is such a heavy percentage of white men who are not average, who are above average. These are what I called the pace-makers that bring up the speed of their own race average-men. Note that they do not change the nature or develop the intelligence of the average-men. But they give them better equipment, better facilities, enable them to travel a faster collective pace.
“Give an Indian a modern rifle in place of his bow and arrows and he will become a vastly more efficient game-getter. The Indian hunter himself has not changed in the slightest. But his entire Indian race sported so few of the above-average men, that all of them, in ten thousand generations, were unable to equip him with a rifle.”
“Go on, Dick, develop the idea,” Terrence encouraged. “I begin to glimpse your drive, and you’ll soon have Aaron on the run with his race prejudices and silly vanities of superiority.”
“These above-average men,” Dick continued, “these pace-makers, are the inventors, the discoverers, the constructionists, the sporting dominants8. A race that sports few such dominants is classified as a lower race, as an inferior race. It still hunts with bows and arrows. It is not equipped. Now the average white man, per se, is just as bestial10, just as stupid, just as inelastic, just as stagnative, just as retrogressive, as the average savage11. But the average white man has a faster pace. The large number of sporting dominants in his society give him the equipment, the organization, and impose the law.
“What great man, what hero—and by that I mean what sporting dominant9— has the Hottentot race produced? The Hawaiian race produced only one— Kamehameha. The negro race in America, at the outside only two, Booker T. Washington and Du Bois—and both with white blood in them....”
Paula feigned12 a cheerful interest while the exposition went on. She did not appear bored, but to Graham’s sympathetic eyes she seemed inwardly to droop13. And in an interval14 of tilt15 between Terrence and Hancock, she said in a low voice to Graham:
“Words, words, words, so much and so many of them! I suppose Dick is right—he so nearly always is; but I confess to my old weakness of inability to apply all these floods of words to life—to my life, I mean, to my living, to what I should do, to what I must do.” Her eyes were unfalteringly fixed16 on his while she spoke17, leaving no doubt in his mind to what she referred. “I don’t know what bearing sporting dominants and race-paces have on my life. They show me no right or wrong or way for my particular feet. And now that they’ve started they are liable to talk the rest of the evening....
“Oh, I do understand what they say,” she hastily assured him; “but it doesn’t mean anything to me. Words, words, words—and I want to know what to do, what to do with myself, what to do with you, what to do with Dick.”
But the devil of speech was in Dick Forrest’s tongue, and before Graham could murmur18 a reply to Paula, Dick was challenging him for data on the subject from the South American tribes among which he had traveled. To look at Dick’s face it would have been unguessed that he was aught but a carefree, happy arguer. Nor did Graham, nor did Paula, Dick’s dozen years’ wife, dream that his casual careless glances were missing no movement of a hand, no change of position on a chair, no shade of expression on their faces.
What’s up? was Dick’s secret interrogation. Paula’s not herself. She’s positively19 nervous, and all the discussion is responsible. And Graham’s off color. His brain isn’t working up to mark. He’s thinking about something else, rather than about what he is saying. What is that something else?
And the devil of speech behind which Dick hid his secret thoughts impelled20 him to urge the talk wider and wilder.
“For once I could almost hate the four sages,” Paula broke out in an undertone to Graham, who had finished furnishing the required data.
Dick, himself talking, in cool sentences amplifying21 his thesis, apparently22 engrossed23 in his subject, saw Paula make the aside, although no word of it reached his ears, saw her increasing nervousness, saw the silent sympathy of Graham, and wondered what had been the few words she uttered, while to the listening table he was saying:
“Fischer and Speiser are both agreed on the paucity24 of unit-characters that circulate in the heredity of the lesser25 races as compared with the immense variety of unit-characters in say the French, or German, or English....”
No one at the table suspected that Dick deliberately26 dangled27 the bait of a new trend to the conversation, nor did Leo dream afterward28 that it was the master-craft and deviltry of Dick rather than his own question that changed the subject when he demanded to know what part the female sporting dominants played in the race.
“Females don’t sport, Leo, my lad,” Terrence, with a wink29 to the others, answered him. “Females are conservative. They keep the type true. They fix it and hold it, and are the everlasting30 clog31 on the chariot of progress. If it wasn’t for the females every blessed mother’s son of us would be a sporting dominant. I refer to our distinguished32 breeder and practical Mendelian whom we have with us this evening to verify my random33 statements.”
“Let us get down first of all to bedrock and find out what we are talking about,” Dick was prompt on the uptake. “What is woman?” he demanded with an air of earnestness.
“The ancient Greeks said woman was nature’s failure to make a man,” Dar Hyal answered, the while the imp7 of mockery laughed in the corners of his mouth and curled his thin cynical34 lips derisively35.
Leo was shocked. His face flushed. There was pain in his eyes and his lips were trembling as he looked wistful appeal to Dick.
“The half-sex,” Hancock gibed36. “As if the hand of God had been withdrawn37 midway in the making, leaving her but a half-soul, a groping soul at best.”
“No I no!” the boy cried out. “You must not say such things!—Dick, you know. Tell them, tell them.”
“I wish I could,” Dick replied. “But this soul discussion is vague as souls themselves. We all know, of our selves, that we often grope, are often lost, and are never so much lost as when we think we know where we are and all about ourselves. What is the personality of a lunatic but a personality a little less, or very much less, coherent than ours? What is the personality of a moron38? Of an idiot? Of a feeble-minded child? Of a horse? A dog? A mosquito? A bullfrog? A woodtick? A garden snail39? And, Leo, what is your own personality when you sleep and dream? When you are seasick40? When you are in love? When you have colic? When you have a cramp41 in the leg? When you are smitten42 abruptly43 with the fear of death? When you are angry? When you are exalted44 with the sense of the beauty of the world and think you think all inexpressible unutterable thoughts?
“I say think you think intentionally45. Did you really think, then your sense of the beauty of the world would not be inexpressible, unutterable. It would be clear, sharp, definite. You could put it into words. Your personality would be clear, sharp, and definite as your thoughts and words. Ergo, Leo, when you deem, in exalted moods, that you are at the summit of existence, in truth you are thrilling, vibrating, dancing a mad orgy of the senses and not knowing a step of the dance or the meaning of the orgy. You don’t know yourself. Your soul, your personality, at that moment, is a vague and groping thing. Possibly the bullfrog, inflating46 himself on the edge of a pond and uttering hoarse47 croaks48 through the darkness to a warty49 mate, possesses also, at that moment, a vague and groping personality.
“No, Leo, personality is too vague for any of our vague personalities50 to grasp. There are seeming men with the personalities of women. There are plural51 personalities. There are two-legged human creatures that are neither fish, flesh, nor fowl52. We, as personalities, float like fog-wisps through glooms and darknesses and light-flashings. It is all fog and mist, and we are all foggy and misty53 in the thick of the mystery.”
“Maybe it’s mystification instead of mystery—man-made mystification,” Paula said.
“There talks the true woman that Leo thinks is not a half-soul,” Dick retorted. “The point is, Leo, sex and soul are all interwoven and tangled54 together, and we know little of one and less of the other.”
“Oh, ho!” Hancock broke in, his black eyes gleaming wickedly. “So, Leo, you identify woman with beauty?”
The young poet’s lips moved, but he could only nod.
“Very well, then, let us take the testimony56 of painting, during the last thousand years, as a reflex of economic conditions and political institutions, and by it see how man has molded and daubed woman into the image of his desire, and how she has permitted him—”
“You must stop baiting Leo,” Paula interfered57, “and be truthful58, all of you, and say what you do know or do believe.”
“Woman is a very sacred subject,” Dar Hyal enunciated60 solemnly.
“And the cérébrale,” Terrence added, winning a nod of approval from Dar Hyal.
“One at a time,” Hancock said. “Let us consider the Madonna-worship, which was a particular woman-worship in relation to the general woman-worship of all women to-day and to which Leo subscribes62. Man is a lazy, loafing savage. He dislikes to be pestered63. He likes tranquillity65, repose66. And he finds himself, ever since man began, saddled to a restless, nervous, irritable67, hysterical68 traveling companion, and her name is woman. She has moods, tears, vanities, angers, and moral irresponsibilities. He couldn’t destroy her. He had to have her, although she was always spoiling his peace. What was he to do?”
“Trust him to find a way—the cunning rascal,” Terrence interjected.
“He made a heavenly image of her,” Hancock kept on. “He idealized her good qualities, and put her so far away that her bad qualities couldn’t get on his nerves and prevent him from smoking his quiet lazy pipe of peace and meditating69 upon the stars. And when the ordinary every-day woman tried to pester64, he brushed her aside from his thoughts and remembered his heaven-woman, the perfect woman, the bearer of life and custodian70 of immortality71.
“Then came the Reformation. Down went the worship of the Mother. And there was man still saddled to his repose-destroyer. What did he do then?”
“Ah, the rascal,” Terrence grinned.
“He said: ‘I will make of you a dream and an illusion.’ And he did. The Madonna was his heavenly woman, his highest conception of woman. He transferred all his idealized qualities of her to the earthly woman, to every woman, and he has fooled himself into believing in them and in her ever since... like Leo does.”
“For an unmarried man you betray an amazing intimacy72 with the pestiferousness of woman,” Dick commented. “Or is it all purely73 theoretical?” Terrence began to laugh.
“And with all this talk about woman we have not yet touched the hem6 of her garment,” Graham said, winning a grateful look from Paula and Leo.
“There is love,” Leo breathed. “No one has said one word about love.”
“And marriage laws, and divorces, and polygamy, and monogamy, and free love,” Hancock rattled75 off.
“And why, Leo,” Dar Hyal queried76, “is woman, in the game of love, always the pursuer, the huntress?”
“Oh, but she isn’t,” the boy answered quietly, with an air of superior knowledge. “That is just some of your Shaw nonsense.”
“Bravo, Leo,” Paula applauded.
“Then Wilde was wrong when he said woman attacks by sudden and strange surrenders?” Dar Hyal asked.
“But don’t you see,” protested Leo, “all such talk makes woman a monster, a creature of prey77.” As he turned to Dick, he stole a side glance at Paula and love welled in his eyes. “Is she a creature of prey, Dick?”
“No,” Dick answered slowly, with a shake of head, and gentleness was in his voice for sake of what he had just seen in the boy’s eyes. “I cannot say that woman is a creature of prey. Nor can I say she is a creature preyed78 upon. Nor will I say she is a creature of unfaltering joy to man. But I will say that she is a creature of much joy to man— "
“And of much foolishness,” Hancock added.
“Let me ask Leo something,” Dar Hyal said. “Leo, why is it that a woman loves the man who beats her?”
“And doesn’t love the man who doesn’t beat her?” Leo countered.
“Precisely.”
“Well, Dar, you are partly right and mostly wrong.—Oh, I have learned about definitions from you fellows. You’ve cunningly left them out of your two propositions. Now I’ll put them in for you. A man who beats a woman he loves is a low type man. A woman who loves the man who beats her is a low type woman. No high type man beats the woman he loves. No high type woman,” and all unconsciously Leo’s eyes roved to Paula, “could love a man who beats her.”
“No, Leo,” Dick said, “I assure you I have never, never beaten Paula.”
“So you see, Dar,” Leo went on with flushing cheeks, “you are wrong. Paula loves Dick without being beaten.”
With what seemed pleased amusement beaming on his face, Dick turned to Paula as if to ask her silent approval of the lad’s words; but what Dick sought was the effect of the impact of such words under the circumstances he apprehended80. In Paula’s eyes he thought he detected a flicker81 of something he knew not what. Graham’s face he found expressionless insofar as there was no apparent change of the expression of interest that had been there.
“Woman has certainly found her St. George tonight,” Graham complimented. “Leo, you shame me. Here I sit quietly by while you fight three dragons.”
“And such dragons,” Paula joined in. “If they drove O’Hay to drink, what will they do to you, Leo?”
“No knight82 of love can ever be discomfited83 by all the dragons in the world,” Dick said. “And the best of it, Leo, is in this case the dragons are more right than you think, and you are more right than they just the same.”
“Here’s a dragon that’s a good dragon, Leo, lad,” Terrence spoke up. “This dragon is going to desert his disreputable companions and come over on your side and be a Saint Terrence. And this Saint Terrence has a lovely question to ask you.”
“Let this dragon roar first,” Hancock interposed. “Leo, by all in love that is sweet and lovely, I ask you: why do lovers, out of jealousy84, so often kill the woman they love?”
“Because they are hurt, because they are insane,” came the answer, “and because they have been unfortunate enough to love a woman so low in type that she could be guilty of making them jealous.”
“But, Leo, love will stray,” Dick prompted. “You must give a more sufficient answer.”
“True for Dick,” Terrence supplemented. “And it’s helping85 you I am to the full stroke of your sword. Love will stray among the highest types, and when it does in steps the green-eyed monster. Suppose the most perfect woman you can imagine should cease to love the man who does not beat her and come to love another man who loves her and will not beat her—what then? All highest types, mind you. Now up with your sword and slash86 into the dragons.”
“The first man will not kill her nor injure her in any way,” Leo asserted stoutly87. “Because if he did he would not be the man you describe. He would not be high type, but low type.”
“You mean, he would get out of the way?” Dick asked, at the same time busying himself with a cigarette so that he might glance at no one’s face.
Leo nodded gravely.
“He would get out of the way, and he would make the way easy for her, and he would be very gentle with her.”
“Let us bring the argument right home,” Hancock said. “We’ll suppose you’re in love with Mrs. Forrest, and Mrs. Forrest is in love with you, and you run away together in the big limousine88—”
“Leo, you are not complimentary,” Paula encouraged.
“It’s just supposing, Leo,” Hancock urged.
The boy’s embarrassment90 was pitiful, and his voice quivered, but he turned bravely to Dick and said:
“That is for Dick to answer.”
“And I’ll answer,” Dick said. “I wouldn’t kill Paula. Nor would I kill you, Leo. That wouldn’t be playing the game. No matter what I felt at heart, I’d say, ‘Bless you, my children.’ But just the same—” He paused, and the laughter signals in the corners of his eyes advertised a whimsey—"I’d say to myself that Leo was making a sad mistake. You see, he doesn’t know Paula.”
“She would be for interrupting his meditations91 on the stars,” Terrence smiled.
“Never, never, Leo, I promise you,” Paula exclaimed.
“There do you belie59 yourself, Mrs. Forrest,” Terrence assured her. “In the first place, you couldn’t help doing it. Besides, it’d be your bounden duty to do it. And, finally, if I may say so, as somewhat of an authority, when I was a mad young lover of a man, with my heart full of a woman and my eyes full of the stars, ’twas ever the dearest delight to be loved away from them by the woman out of my heart.”
“Terrence, if you keep on saying such lovely things,” cried Paula, ”I’ll run away with both you and Leo in the limousine.”
“Hurry the day,” said Terrence gallantly92. “But leave space among your fripperies for a few books on the stars that Leo and I may be studying in odd moments.”
“What do you mean by ’playing the game’?” Dar Hyal asked.
“Just what I said, just what Leo said,” Dick answered; and he knew that Paula’s boredom95 and nervousness had been banished96 for some time and that she was listening with an interest almost eager. “In my way of thinking, and in accord with my temperament97, the most horrible spiritual suffering I can imagine would be to kiss a woman who endured my kiss.”
“Suppose she fooled you, say for old sake’s sake, or through desire not to hurt you, or pity for you?” Hancock propounded98.
“It would be, to me, the unforgivable sin,” came Dick’s reply. “It would not be playing the game—for her. I cannot conceive the fairness, nor the satisfaction, of holding the woman one loves a moment longer than she loves to be held. Leo is very right. The drunken artisan, with his fists, may arouse and keep love alive in the breast of his stupid mate. But the higher human males, the males with some shadow of rationality, some glimmer99 of spirituality, cannot lay rough hands on love. With Leo, I would make the way easy for the woman, and I would be very gentle with her.”
“Then what becomes of your boasted monogamic marriage institution of Western civilization?” Dar Hyal asked.
And Hancock: “You argue for free love, then?”
“I can only answer with a hackneyed truism,” Dick said. “There can be no love that is not free. Always, please, remember the point of view is that of the higher types. And the point of view answers you, Dar. The vast majority of individuals must be held to law and labor100 by the monogamic institution, or by a stern, rigid101 marriage institution of some sort. They are unfit for marriage freedom or love freedom. Freedom of love, for them, would be merely license102 of promiscuity103. Only such nations have risen and endured where God and the State have kept the people’s instincts in discipline and order.”
“Then you don’t believe in the marriage laws for say yourself,” Dar Hyal inquired, “while you do believe in them for other men?”
“I believe in them for all men. Children, family, career, society, the State—all these things make marriage, legal marriage, imperative104. And by the same token that is why I believe in divorce. Men, all men, and women, all women, are capable of loving more than once, of having the old love die and of finding a new love born. The State cannot control love any more than can a man or a woman. When one falls in love one falls in love, and that’s all he knows about it. There it is— throbbing105, sighing, singing, thrilling love. But the State can control license.”
“It is a complicated free love that you stand for,” Hancock criticised. “True, and for the reason that man, living in society, is a most complicated animal.”
“But there are men, lovers, who would die at the loss of their loved one,” Leo surprised the table by his initiative. “They would die if she died, they would die—oh so more quickly—if she lived and loved another.”
“Well, they’ll have to keep on dying as they have always died in the past,” Dick answered grimly. “And no blame attaches anywhere for their deaths. We are so made that our hearts sometimes stray.”
“My heart would never stray,” Leo asserted proudly, unaware106 that all at the table knew his secret. “I could never love twice, I know.”
“True for you, lad,” Terrence approved. “The voice of all true lovers is in your throat. ’Tis the absoluteness of love that is its joy—how did Shelley put it?—or was it Keats?—’All a wonder and a wild delight.’ Sure, a miserable107 skinflint of a half-baked lover would it be that could dream there was aught in woman form one-thousandth part as sweet, as ravishing and enticing108, as glorious and wonderful as his own woman that he could ever love again.”
And as they passed out from the dining room, Dick, continuing the conversation with Dar Hyal, was wondering whether Paula would kiss him good night or slip off to bed from the piano. And Paula, talking to Leo about his latest sonnet109 which he had shown her, was wondering if she could kiss Dick, and was suddenly greatly desirous to kiss him, she knew not why.
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1
sages
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| n.圣人( sage的名词复数 )；智者；哲人；鼠尾草（可用作调料） | |
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grove
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| n.林子，小树林，园林 | |
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par
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| n.标准，票面价值，平均数量；adj.票面的，平常的，标准的 | |
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mere
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| adj.纯粹的；仅仅，只不过 | |
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scholastic
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| adj.学校的，学院的，学术上的 | |
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hem
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| n.贴边，镶边；vt.缝贴边；(in)包围，限制 | |
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imp
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| n.顽童 | |
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dominants
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| n.占优势的( dominant的名词复数 )；统治的；（基因）显性的；高耸的 | |
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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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bestial
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| adj.残忍的；野蛮的 | |
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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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feigned
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| a.假装的，不真诚的 | |
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droop
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| v.低垂，下垂；凋萎，萎靡 | |
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interval
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| n.间隔，间距；幕间休息，中场休息 | |
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tilt
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| v.(使)倾侧；(使)倾斜；n.倾侧；倾斜 | |
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fixed
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| adj.固定的，不变的，准备好的；(计算机)固定的 | |
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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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murmur
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| n.低语，低声的怨言；v.低语，低声而言 | |
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positively
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| adv.明确地，断然，坚决地；实在，确实 | |
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impelled
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| v.推动、推进或敦促某人做某事( impel的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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amplifying
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| 放大，扩大( amplify的现在分词 )； 增强； 详述 | |
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apparently
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| adv.显然地；表面上，似乎 | |
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engrossed
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| adj.全神贯注的 | |
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paucity
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| n.小量，缺乏 | |
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lesser
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| adj.次要的，较小的；adv.较小地，较少地 | |
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deliberately
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| adv.审慎地；蓄意地；故意地 | |
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dangled
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| 悬吊着( dangle的过去式和过去分词 )； 摆动不定； 用某事物诱惑…； 吊胃口 | |
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afterward
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| adv.后来；以后 | |
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wink
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| n.眨眼，使眼色，瞬间；v.眨眼，使眼色，闪烁 | |
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everlasting
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| adj.永恒的，持久的，无止境的 | |
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clog
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| vt.塞满，阻塞；n.[常pl.]木屐 | |
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distinguished
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| adj.卓越的，杰出的，著名的 | |
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random
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| adj.随机的；任意的；n.偶然的(或随便的)行动 | |
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cynical
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| adj.(对人性或动机)怀疑的，不信世道向善的 | |
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derisively
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| adv. 嘲笑地，嘲弄地 | |
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gibed
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| v.嘲笑，嘲弄( gibe的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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withdrawn
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| vt.收回；使退出；vi.撤退，退出 | |
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moron
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| n.极蠢之人，低能儿 | |
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39
snail
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| n.蜗牛 | |
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seasick
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| adj.晕船的 | |
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41
cramp
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| n.痉挛；[pl.](腹)绞痛；vt.限制，束缚 | |
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42
smitten
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| 猛打，重击，打击( smite的过去分词 ) | |
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43
abruptly
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| adv.突然地，出其不意地 | |
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44
exalted
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| adj.(地位等)高的，崇高的；尊贵的，高尚的 | |
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45
intentionally
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| ad.故意地，有意地 | |
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46
inflating
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| v.使充气（于轮胎、气球等）( inflate的现在分词 )；（使）膨胀；（使）通货膨胀；物价上涨 | |
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47
hoarse
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| adj.嘶哑的，沙哑的 | |
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48
croaks
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| v.呱呱地叫( croak的第三人称单数 )；用粗的声音说 | |
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49
warty
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| adj.有疣的，似疣的；瘤状 | |
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50
personalities
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| n. 诽谤，（对某人容貌、性格等所进行的）人身攻击； 人身攻击；人格, 个性, 名人( personality的名词复数 ) | |
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51
plural
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| n.复数；复数形式；adj.复数的 | |
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52
fowl
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| n.家禽，鸡，禽肉 | |
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53
misty
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| adj.雾蒙蒙的，有雾的 | |
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54
tangled
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| adj. 纠缠的，紊乱的 动词tangle的过去式和过去分词 | |
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stammered
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| v.结巴地说出( stammer的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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56
testimony
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| n.证词；见证，证明 | |
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57
interfered
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| v.干预( interfere的过去式和过去分词 )；调停；妨碍；干涉 | |
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truthful
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| adj.真实的，说实话的，诚实的 | |
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belie
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| v.掩饰，证明为假 | |
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enunciated
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| v.（清晰地）发音( enunciate的过去式和过去分词 )；确切地说明 | |
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breach
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| n.违反，不履行；破裂；vt.冲破，攻破 | |
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subscribes
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| v.捐助( subscribe的第三人称单数 )；签署，题词；订阅；同意 | |
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pestered
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| 使烦恼，纠缠( pester的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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pester
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| v.纠缠，强求 | |
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65
tranquillity
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| n. 平静, 安静 | |
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repose
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| v.(使)休息；n.安息 | |
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irritable
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| adj.急躁的；过敏的；易怒的 | |
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hysterical
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| adj.情绪异常激动的，歇斯底里般的 | |
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meditating
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| a.沉思的，冥想的 | |
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custodian
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| n.保管人，监护人；公共建筑看守 | |
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immortality
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| n.不死，不朽 | |
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intimacy
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| n.熟悉，亲密，密切关系，亲昵的言行 | |
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purely
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| adv.纯粹地，完全地 | |
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spout
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| v.喷出，涌出；滔滔不绝地讲；n.喷管；水柱 | |
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rattled
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| 慌乱的，恼火的 | |
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queried
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| v.质疑，对…表示疑问( query的过去式和过去分词 )；询问 | |
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prey
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| n.被掠食者，牺牲者，掠食；v.捕食，掠夺，折磨 | |
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preyed
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| v.掠食( prey的过去式和过去分词 )；掠食；折磨；（人）靠欺诈为生 | |
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Amended
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| adj. 修正的 动词amend的过去式和过去分词 | |
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apprehended
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| 逮捕，拘押( apprehend的过去式和过去分词 )； 理解 | |
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flicker
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| vi./n.闪烁，摇曳，闪现 | |
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82
knight
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| n.骑士，武士；爵士 | |
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discomfited
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| v.使为难( discomfit的过去式和过去分词)；使狼狈；使挫折；挫败 | |
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jealousy
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| n.妒忌，嫉妒，猜忌 | |
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85
helping
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| n.食物的一份&adj.帮助人的，辅助的 | |
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86
slash
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| vi.大幅度削减；vt.猛砍，尖锐抨击，大幅减少；n.猛砍，斜线，长切口，衣衩 | |
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stoutly
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| adv.牢固地，粗壮的 | |
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88
limousine
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| n.豪华轿车 | |
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89
blurted
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| v.突然说出，脱口而出( blurt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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meditations
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| 默想( meditation的名词复数 )； 默念； 沉思； 冥想 | |
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gallantly
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| adv. 漂亮地，勇敢地，献殷勤地 | |
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93
ebbed
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| （指潮水）退( ebb的过去式和过去分词 )； 落； 减少； 衰落 | |
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beset
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| v.镶嵌；困扰，包围 | |
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boredom
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| n.厌烦，厌倦，乏味，无聊 | |
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96
banished
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| v.放逐，驱逐( banish的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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97
temperament
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| n.气质，性格，性情 | |
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98
propounded
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| v.提出（问题、计划等）供考虑[讨论]，提议( propound的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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99
glimmer
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| v.发出闪烁的微光；n.微光，微弱的闪光 | |
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labor
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| n.劳动，努力，工作，劳工；分娩；vi.劳动，努力，苦干；vt.详细分析；麻烦 | |
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101
rigid
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| adj.严格的，死板的；刚硬的，僵硬的 | |
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102
license
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| n.执照，许可证，特许；v.许可，特许 | |
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103
promiscuity
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| n.混杂，混乱；（男女的）乱交 | |
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104
imperative
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| n.命令，需要；规则；祈使语气；adj.强制的；紧急的 | |
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105
throbbing
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| a. 跳动的,悸动的 | |
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106
unaware
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| a.不知道的，未意识到的 | |
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107
miserable
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| adj.悲惨的，痛苦的；可怜的，糟糕的 | |
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108
enticing
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| adj.迷人的；诱人的 | |
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109
sonnet
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| n.十四行诗 | |
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