"Where is Joe?" she inquired.
"He's out in the runway, ma'am, jumpin' Blue Gipsy. Shall I call him, ma'am?" Billy answered, as the question appeared to be addressed to him.
"No matter," said Mrs. Carter, "one of you will do as well."
She advanced into the room, walking as nearly as possible on her heels. It was something of a feat7; Mrs. Carter was not so light as she had been twenty-five years before. Peter followed her movements with a shade of speculative8 wonder in his eye; should she slip it would be an undignified exhibition. There was even a shade of hope beneath his respectful gaze.
"Why do you use so much water, Peter? Is it necessary to get the floor so wet?"
"It runs off, ma'am."
"It is very unpleasant to walk in."
Peter winked9 at Billy with his off eye, and stood at attention until she should have finished her examination of the newly washed phæton.
"The cushions are dripping wet," she observed.
"I washed 'em on purpose, ma'am. They was spattered thick with mud."
"There is danger of spoiling the leather if you put on too much water."
She turned to an inspection10 of the rest of the room, sniffing11 dubiously12 in the corner where the harness greasing was carried on, and lifting her skirts a trifle higher.
"It's disgustingly dirty," she commented, "but I suppose you can't help it."
"Axle grease is sort o' black," Peter agreed graciously.
"Well," she resumed, returning to her errand with an appearance of reluctance13, "I want you, William—or Peter either, it doesn't matter which—to drive into the village this evening to meet the eight-fifteen train from the city. I am expecting a new maid. Take Trixy and the buckboard and bring her trunk out with you. Eight-fifteen, remember," she added as she turned toward the doorway. "Be sure to be on time, for she won't know what to do."
"Yes, ma'am," said Peter and Billy in chorus.
They watched in silence her gradual retreat to the house. She stopped once or twice to examine critically a clipped shrub14 or a freshly spaded flower-bed, but she finally passed out of hearing. Billy uttered an eloquent15 grunt16; while Peter hitched17 up his trousers in both hands and commenced a tour of the room on his heels.
"William," he squeaked18 in a high falsetto, "you've spilt a great deal more water than is necessary on this here floor. You'd ought to be more careful; it will warp19 the boards."
"Yes, ma'am," said Billy with a grin.
"An' goodness me! What is this horrid20 stuff in this box?" He sniffed21 daintily at the harness grease. "How many times must I tell you, William, that I don't want anything like that on my harnesses? I want them washed in nice, clean soap an' water, with a little dash of ee-oo-dee cologne."
Billy applauded with appreciation22.
"An' now, Peter," Peter resumed, addressing an imaginary self, "I am expectin' a new maid to-night—a pretty little French maid just like Annette. I am sure that she will like you better than any o' the other men, so I wish you to meet her at the eight-fifteen train. Be sure to be on time, for the poor little thing won't know what to do."
"No, you don't," interrupted Billy. "She told me to meet her."
"She didn't either," said Peter, quickly reassuming his proper person. "She said either of us, which ever was most convenient, an' I've got to go into town anyway on an errand for Miss Ethel."
"She said me," maintained Billy, "an' I'm goin' to."
"Hey, Joe," called Billy, as the coachman's steps were heard approaching down the length of the stable, "Mrs. Carter come out here an' said I was to meet a new maid to-night, an' Pete says he's goin' to. Just come an' tell him to mind 'is own business."
Joe appeared in the doorway, with a cap cocked on the side of his head, and a short bull-dog pipe in his mouth. It was strictly24 against the rules to smoke in the stables, but Joe had been autocrat25 so long that he made his own rules. He could trust himself—but woe26 to the groom2 who so much as scratched a safety-match within his domain27.
"A new maid is it?" he inquired, as a grin of comprehension leisurely28 spread itself across his good-natured rubicund29 face. "I s'pose you're thinking it's pretty near your turn, hey, Billy?"
"I don't care nothin' about new maids," said Billy, sulkily, "but Mrs. Carter said me."
"You're awful particular all of a sudden about obeying orders," said Joe. "I don't care which one of you fetches out the new maid," he added. "I s'pose if Pete wants to, he's got the first say."
The Carter stables were ruled by a hierarchy30 with Joe at the head, the order of precedence being based upon a union of seniority and merit. Joe had ruled for twelve years. He had held the position so long that he had insidiously31 come to believe in the divine right of coachmen. Nothing short of a revolution could have dislodged him against his will; in a year or so, however, he was planning to abdicate33 in order to start a livery stable of his own. The money was even now waiting in the bank. Peter, who had commenced as stable-boy ten years before, was heir-presumptive to the place, and the shadow of his future greatness was already upon him. Billy, who[Pg 10] had served but a few meagre months at Willowbrook, did not realize that the highest honours are obtained only after a painful novitiate. He saw no reason why he should not be coachman another year just as much as Peter; in fact, he saw several reasons why he should be. He drove as well, he was better looking—he told himself—and he was infinitely34 larger. To Billy's simple understanding it was quantity, not quality, that makes the man. He resented Peter's assumption of superiority, and he intended, when opportunity should present itself, to take it out of Peter.
"I don't care about fetchin' out the new maid any more than Billy," Peter nonchalantly threw off after a prolonged pause, "only I've got to take a note to the Holidays for Miss Ethel, and I'd just as lief stop at the station; it won't be much out o' me way."
"All right," said Joe. "Suit yourself."
Peter smiled slightly as he fell to work again, humming under his breath a song that was peculiarly aggravating35 to Billy. "Je vous aime, je vous adore," it ran. Peter trilled it, "Gervie zame, gervie door," but it answered the purpose quite as well as if it had been pronounced with the best Parisian accent.
The last maid—the one who had left four days before—had been French, and during her three weeks' reign36 at Willowbrook she had stirred to its foundations every unattached masculine heart on the premises37. Even Simpkins, the elderly English butler, had unbent and smiled foolishly when she coquettishly chucked him under the chin in passing through the hall. Mary, the chambermaid, had been a witness to this tender passage, and poor Simpkins's dignity ever since had walked on shaky ground. But Annette's charms had conquered more than Simpkins. Tom, the gardener, had spent the entire three weeks of her stay in puttering about the shrubs39 that grew in the vicinity of the house; while the stablemen had frankly40 prostrated41 themselves—with the exception of Joe, who was married and not open to Gallic allurements42. It was evident from the first, however, that Peter and Billy were the favoured ones. For two weeks the race between them had been even, and then Peter had slowly, but perceptibly, pulled ahead.
He had returned one morning from an errand to the house with a new song upon his lips. It was in the French language. He sang it through several times with insistent43 and tender emphasis. Billy maintained a proud silence as long as curiosity would permit; finally he inquired gruffly:
"What's that you're givin' us?"
"It's a song," said Peter, modestly. "Annette taught it to me," and he hummed it through again.
"What does it mean?"
"It means," he said, "I don't love no one but you, me dear."
This episode was the beginning of strained relations between the two. There is no telling how far their differences would have gone, had the firebrand not been suddenly removed.
One morning Joe was kept waiting under the porte-cochère unusually long for Mrs. Carter to start on her daily progress to the village, but instead of Mrs. Carter, finally, his passenger was Annette—bound to the station with her belongings45 piled about her. Joe had a wife of his own, and it was none of his affair what happened to Annette, but he had observed the signs of the weather among his underlings, and he was interested on their account to know the wherefore of the business. Annette, however—for a French woman—was undemonstrative. All that Joe gathered in return for his sympathetic questions (they were sympathetic; Joe was human even if he was married) was a series of indignant sniffs46, and the assertion that she was going because she wanted to go. She wouldn't work any longer in a place like that; Mrs. Carter was an old cat, and Miss Ethel was a young one. She finished with some idiomatic47 French, the context of which Joe did not gather.
Billy received the news of the departure with unaffected delight, and Peter with philosophy. After all, Annette had only had three weeks in which to do her work, and three weeks was too short a space for even the most fetching of French maids to stamp a very deep impression upon Peter's roving fancy. Four days had passed and his wound was nearly healed. He was able to sit up and look about again by the time that Mrs. Carter ordered the meeting of the second maid. Ordinarily the grooms would not have been so eager to receive the assignment of an unallotted task, but the memory of Annette still rankled49, and it was felt between them that the long drive from the[Pg 15] station was a golden opportunity for gaining a solid start in the newcomer's affections.
The stablemen did not eat with the house servants; Joe's wife furnished their meals in the coachman's cottage. That evening Peter scrambled50 through his supper in evident haste. He had an important engagement, he explained, with a meaning glance toward Billy. He did take time between mouthfuls, however, to remark on the fact that it was going to be a beautiful moonlight night, just a "foin" time for a drive.
An hour later, Billy having somewhat sulkily hitched Trixy to the buckboard under Joe's direction, Peter swaggered in with pink and white freshly shaven face, smelling of bay-rum and the barber's, with shining top-hat and boots, and spotless white breeches, looking as immaculate a groom as could be found within a hundred miles of New York. He jauntily51 took his seat, waved his whip toward Billy and Joe, and touched up Trixy with a grin of farewell.
Later in the evening the men were lounging in a clump52 of laurels53 at one side of the carriage-house, where a hammock and several battered54 veranda55 chairs had drifted out from the house for the use of the stable hands. Simpkins, who occasionally unbent sufficiently56 to join them, was with the party to-night, and he heard the story of Peter's latest perfidy57. Simpkins could sympathize with Billy; his own sensibilities had been sadly lacerated in the matter of Annette. Joe leaned back and smoked comfortably, lending his voice occasionally to the extent of a grunt. The grooms' differences were nothing to him, but they served their purpose as amusement.
Presently the roll of wheels sounded on the gravel58, and they all strained forward with alert interest. The driveway leading to the back door swerved59 broadly past the laurels, and—as Peter had remarked—it was a bright moonlight night. The cart came into view, bowling60 fast, Peter as stiff as a ramrod[Pg 17] staring straight ahead, while beside him sat a brawny61 Negro woman twice his size, with rolling black eyes and gleaming white teeth. An explosion sounded from the laurels, and Peter, who knew what it meant, cut Trixy viciously.
He dumped his passenger's box upon the back veranda with a thud, and drove on to the stables where he unhitched poor patient little Trixy in a most unsympathetic fashion. Billy strolled in while he was still engaged with her harness. Peter affected48 not to notice him. Billy commenced to hum, "Je vous aime, je vous adore." He was no French scholar; he had not had Peter's advantages, but the tune alone was sufficiently suggestive.
"Aw, dry up," said Peter.
"Pleasant moonlight night," said Billy.
Peter threw the harness on to the hook with a vicious turn that landed the most of it on the floor, and stumped62 upstairs to his room over the carriage-house.
For the next few days Peter's life was rendered a burden. Billy and Joe and Simpkins and Tom, even good-natured Nora in the kitchen, never met him without covert63 allusions64 to the affair. The gardener at Jasper Place, next door, called over the hedge one morning to inquire if they didn't have a new maid at their house. On the third day after the arrival the matter reached its logical conclusion.
"Hey, Pete," Billy called up to him in the loft65 where he was pitching down hay for the horses. "Come down here quick; there's some one wants to see you."
Peter clambered down wearing an expectant look, and was confronted by the three grinning faces of Billy, Tom, and David McKenna, the gardener from Jasper Place.
"It was Miss Johnsing," said Billy. "She was in a hurry an' said she couldn't wait, but she'd like to have you meet her on the back stoop. She's got a new song she wants to teach you."
Peter took off his coat and looked Billy over for a soft spot on which to begin. Billy took off his coat and accepted the challenge, while David, who was a true Scotchman in his love of war, delightedly suggested that they withdraw to a more secluded66 spot. The four trooped in silence to a clump of willow3 trees in the lower pasture, Peter grimly marching ahead.
Billy was a huge, loose-jointed fellow who looked as if he could have picked up little Peter and slung67 him over his shoulder like a sack of flour. Peter was slight and wiry and quick. He had once intended to be a jockey, but in spite of an anxious avoidance of potatoes and other fattening68 food-stuffs, he had steadily69 grown away from it. When he finally reached one hundred and sixty-six pounds he relinquished70 his ambition forever. Those one hundred and sixty-six pounds were so beautifully distributed, however, that the casual observer would never have guessed[Pg 20] their presence, and many a weightier man had found to his sorrow that Peter did not belong to the class he looked.
The hostilities71 opened with Billy's good-natured remark: "I don't want to hurt you, Petey. I just want to teach you manners."
Ten minutes later Peter had taught him manners, and was striding across the fields to work off his surplus energy, while Billy, whose florid face had taken on a livelier tinge72, was comforting a fast-swelling eye at the drinking trough.
It was the last that Peter heard of the maid, except for a mild lecture from Joe. "See here, Pete," he was greeted upon his return, "I'm given to understand that you've been fighting for your lady-love. I just want you to remember one thing, young man, and that is that I won't have no fighting about these premises in business hours. You've laid up Billy for the day, and you can go and do his work."
Three weeks rolled over the head of "Miss Johnsing," and then she, too, departed. It developed that a husband had returned from a vacation on "the island" and wished to settle down to family life again. A week passed at Willowbrook without a parlour-maid, and then one day, as Peter returned from the lower meadow where he had been trying to entice73 a reluctant colt into putting its head into the halter, he was hailed by Joe with:
"Say, Pete, Mrs. Carter sent out word that you're to go to the station to-night and fetch out a new maid."
"Aw, go on," said Peter.
"That's straight."
"If there's a new maid comin' Billy can get her. I ain't interested in maids."
"Them's orders," said Joe. "'Tell Peter,' she says, 'that he's to drive in with the buckboard and meet the eight-fifteen train from the city. I'm expectin' a new maid,' she says, but she neglected to mention what colour she was expectin' her to be."
Peter grunted74 by way of answer, and Joe chuckled75 audibly as he hitched up his trousers and rolled off toward his own house to tell his wife the joke. The subject was covertly76 alluded77 to at supper that night, with various speculations78 as to the colour, nationality, and possible size of the newcomer. Peter emphatically stated his intention of not going near the blame station. When the train hour approached, however, the stables were conspicuously79 empty, and there was nothing for him to do but swallow his assertion and meet the maid.
As he drove down the hill toward the station he saw that the eight-fifteen train was already in, but he noted80 the fact without emotion. He was not going to hurry himself for all the maids in creation; she could just wait until he got there. He drew up beside the platform and sat surveying the people with mild curiosity until such time as the maid chose to search him out. But his pulses suddenly quickened as he heard a clear voice, with an adorable suggestion of brogue behind it, inquire of the station-master:
"Will you tell me, sor, how I'll be gettin' to Mr. Jerome B. Carter's?"
"Here's one of the Carter rigs now," said the man.
The girl turned quickly and faced Peter, and all his confused senses told him that she was pretty—prettier than Annette—pretty beyond all precedent81. Her eyes were blue, and her hair was black and her colour was the colour that comes from a childhood spent out of doors in County Cork82.
He hastily scrambled out of his seat and touched his hat. "Beggin' yer pardon, ma'am, are ye the new maid? Mrs. Carter sent me to fetch ye out. If ye'll gi' me yer check, ma'am, I'll get yer trunk."
The girl gave up her check silently, quite abashed83 by this very dressy young groom. She had served during the two years of her American experience as "second girl" in a brown-stone house in a side street, and though she had often watched men of Peter's kind from a bench by the park driveway, she had never in her life come so near to one as this. While he was searching for her trunk, she hastily climbed into the cart and moved to the extreme end of the left side of the seat, lest the apparition84 should return and offer assistance. She sat up very stiffly, wondering meanwhile, with a beating heart, if he would talk or just stare straight ahead the way they did in the park.
Peter helped the baggage-man lift in her trunk, and as he did it he paused to take a good square look. "Gee85, but Billy will want to kick himself!" was his delighted inward comment as he clambered up beside her and gathered the reins86 in his hands. They drove up the hill without speaking, but once Peter shot a sidewise glance at her at the same moment that she looked at him, and they both turned pink. This was embarrassing, but[Pg 25] reassuring87. He was, then, nothing but a man in spite of his clothes, and with a man she knew how to deal.
A full moon was rising above the trees and the twilight88 was fading into dusk. As Billy had justly observed at the supper table, it was a fine night in which to get acquainted. The four miles between the station and Willowbrook suddenly dwindled89 into insignificance90 in Peter's sight, and at the top of the hill he turned Trixy's head in exactly the wrong direction.
"If ye have no objections," he observed, "we'll drive the long way by the beach because the roads is better."
The new maid had no objections, or at least she did not voice any, and they rolled along between the fragrant91 hedgerows in silence. Peter was laboriously92 framing to himself an opening remark, and he found nothing ludicrous in the situation; but to the girl, whose Irish sense of humour was inordinately94 developed, it appeared very funny to be riding alone beside a live, breathing groom, in top-hat and shining boots, who turned red when you looked at him.
She suddenly broke into a laugh—a low, clear, bubbling laugh that lodged32 itself in Peter's receptive heart. He looked around a moment with a slightly startled air, and then, as his eyes met hers, he too laughed. It instantly cleared the atmosphere. He pulled Trixy to a walk and faced her. His laborious93 introductory speech was forgotten; he went to the point with a sigh of relief.
"I guess we're goin' to like each other—you an' me," he said softly.
The moon was shining and the hawthorn95 flowers were sweet. Annie's eyes looked back at him rather shyly, and her dimples trembled just below the surface. Peter hastily turned his eyes away lest he look too long.
"Me name's Peter," he said, "Peter Malone. Tell me yours, so we'll be feelin' acquainted."
"Annie O'Reilly."
"Annie O'Reilly," he repeated. "There's the right swing to it. 'Tis better than Annette."
"Annette?" inquired Annie.
She had perceived that he was a man; he now perceived that she was a woman, and that Annette's name might better not have been mentioned.
"Ah, Annette," he said carelessly, "a parlour-maid we had a while ago; an' mighty96 glad we was to be rid of her," he added cannily97.
"Why?" asked Annie.
"She was French; she had a temper."
"I'm Irish; I have a temper—will ye be glad to be rid o' me?"
"Oh, an' I'm Irish meself," laughed Peter, with a broader brogue than usual. "'Tis not Irish tempers I'm fearin'. Thim I c'n manage."
When they turned in at the gates of Willowbrook—some half an hour later than they were due, owing to Peter's extemporaneous98 route by the beach—he slowed Trixy to a walk that he might point out to his companion the interesting features of her new home. As they passed the laurels they were deeply engaged in converse99, and a heavy and respectful silence hung about the region.
"Good night, Mr. Malone," said Annie, as he deposited her trunk on the back veranda. "'Tis obliged to ye I am for bringin' me out."
"Oh, drop the Mister Malone!" he grinned. "Peter's me name. Good night, Annie. I hope as ye'll like it. It won't be my fault if ye don't."
He touched his hat, and swinging himself to the seat, drove whistling to the stables. He unhitched Trixy and gave her a handful of salt. "Here, old girl, what are ye tryin' to do?" he asked as she rubbed her nose against his shoulder, and he started her toward her stall with a friendly whack100 on the back. As he was putting away her harness, Billy lounged[Pg 29] in, bent38 on no errand in particular. Peter threw him a careless nod, and breaking off his whistling in the middle of a bar, he fell to humming softly a familiar tune. "Gervie zame, gervie door," was the song that he sang.
该作者的其它作品
《The Wheat Princess小麦公主》
该作者的其它作品
《The Wheat Princess小麦公主》
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1
grooms
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| n.新郎( groom的名词复数 )；马夫v.照料或梳洗（马等）( groom的第三人称单数 )；使做好准备；训练；（给动物）擦洗 | |
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groom
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| vt.给（马、狗等）梳毛，照料，使...整洁 | |
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willow
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| n.柳树 | |
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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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controversy
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| n.争论，辩论，争吵 | |
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doorway
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| n.门口，(喻)入门；门路，途径 | |
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feat
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| n.功绩；武艺，技艺；adj.灵巧的，漂亮的，合适的 | |
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speculative
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| adj.思索性的，暝想性的，推理的 | |
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winked
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| v.使眼色( wink的过去式和过去分词 )；递眼色（表示友好或高兴等）；（指光）闪烁；闪亮 | |
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inspection
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| n.检查，审查，检阅 | |
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sniffing
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| n.探查法v.以鼻吸气，嗅，闻( sniff的现在分词 )；抽鼻子（尤指哭泣、患感冒等时出声地用鼻子吸气）；抱怨，不以为然地说 | |
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dubiously
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| adv.可疑地，怀疑地 | |
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reluctance
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| n.厌恶，讨厌，勉强，不情愿 | |
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shrub
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| n.灌木，灌木丛 | |
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eloquent
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| adj.雄辩的，口才流利的；明白显示出的 | |
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grunt
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| v.嘟哝；作呼噜声；n.呼噜声，嘟哝 | |
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hitched
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| （免费）搭乘他人之车( hitch的过去式和过去分词 )； 搭便车； 攀上； 跃上 | |
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squeaked
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| v.短促地尖叫( squeak的过去式和过去分词 )；吱吱叫；告密；充当告密者 | |
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warp
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| vt.弄歪，使翘曲，使不正常，歪曲，使有偏见 | |
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horrid
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| adj.可怕的；令人惊恐的；恐怖的；极讨厌的 | |
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sniffed
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| v.以鼻吸气，嗅，闻( sniff的过去式和过去分词 )；抽鼻子（尤指哭泣、患感冒等时出声地用鼻子吸气）；抱怨，不以为然地说 | |
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appreciation
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| n.评价；欣赏；感谢；领会，理解；价格上涨 | |
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jeered
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| v.嘲笑( jeer的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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strictly
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| adv.严厉地，严格地；严密地 | |
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autocrat
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| n.独裁者；专横的人 | |
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woe
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| n.悲哀，苦痛，不幸，困难；int.用来表达悲伤或惊慌 | |
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domain
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| n.(活动等)领域，范围；领地，势力范围 | |
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leisurely
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| adj.悠闲的；从容的，慢慢的 | |
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rubicund
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| adj.(脸色)红润的 | |
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hierarchy
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| n.等级制度；统治集团，领导层 | |
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insidiously
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| 潜在地，隐伏地，阴险地 | |
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lodged
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| v.存放( lodge的过去式和过去分词 )；暂住；埋入；（权利、权威等）归属 | |
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abdicate
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| v.让位，辞职，放弃 | |
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infinitely
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| adv.无限地，无穷地 | |
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aggravating
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| adj.恼人的，讨厌的 | |
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reign
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| n.统治时期，统治，支配，盛行；v.占优势 | |
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premises
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| n.建筑物，房屋 | |
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bent
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| n.爱好，癖好；adj.弯的；决心的，一心的 | |
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shrubs
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| 灌木( shrub的名词复数 ) | |
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frankly
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| adv.坦白地，直率地；坦率地说 | |
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prostrated
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| v.使俯伏，使拜倒( prostrate的过去式和过去分词 )；（指疾病、天气等）使某人无能为力 | |
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allurements
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| n.诱惑( allurement的名词复数 )；吸引；诱惑物；有诱惑力的事物 | |
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insistent
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| adj.迫切的，坚持的 | |
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rendering
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| n.表现，描写 | |
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belongings
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| n.私人物品，私人财物 | |
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sniffs
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| v.以鼻吸气，嗅，闻( sniff的第三人称单数 )；抽鼻子（尤指哭泣、患感冒等时出声地用鼻子吸气）；抱怨，不以为然地说 | |
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idiomatic
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| adj.成语的，符合语言习惯的 | |
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affected
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| adj.不自然的，假装的 | |
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rankled
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| v.（使）痛苦不已，（使）怨恨不已( rankle的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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scrambled
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| v.快速爬行( scramble的过去式和过去分词 )；攀登；争夺；（军事飞机）紧急起飞 | |
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jauntily
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| adv.心满意足地；洋洋得意地；高兴地；活泼地 | |
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clump
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| n.树丛，草丛；vi.用沉重的脚步行走 | |
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laurels
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| n.桂冠，荣誉 | |
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battered
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| adj.磨损的；v.连续猛击；磨损 | |
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veranda
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| n.走廊；阳台 | |
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sufficiently
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| adv.足够地，充分地 | |
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perfidy
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| n.背信弃义，不忠贞 | |
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gravel
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| n.砂跞；砂砾层；结石 | |
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swerved
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| v.（使）改变方向，改变目的( swerve的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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bowling
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| n.保龄球运动 | |
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brawny
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| adj.强壮的 | |
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stumped
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| 僵直地行走，跺步行走( stump的过去式和过去分词 )； 把（某人）难住； 使为难； （选举前）在某一地区作政治性巡回演说 | |
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covert
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| adj.隐藏的；暗地里的 | |
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allusions
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| 暗指，间接提到( allusion的名词复数 ) | |
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loft
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| n.阁楼，顶楼 | |
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secluded
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| adj.与世隔绝的；隐退的；偏僻的v.使隔开，使隐退( seclude的过去式和过去分词) | |
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slung
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| 抛( sling的过去式和过去分词 )； 吊挂； 遣送； 押往 | |
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fattening
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| adj.（食物）要使人发胖的v.喂肥( fatten的现在分词 )；养肥（牲畜）；使（钱）增多；使（公司）升值 | |
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steadily
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| adv.稳定地；不变地；持续地 | |
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relinquished
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| 交出，让给( relinquish的过去式和过去分词 )； 放弃 | |
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hostilities
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| n.战争；敌意(hostility的复数)；敌对状态；战事 | |
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tinge
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| vt.(较淡)着色于，染色；使带有…气息；n.淡淡色彩，些微的气息 | |
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entice
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| v.诱骗，引诱，怂恿 | |
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grunted
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| （猪等）作呼噜声( grunt的过去式和过去分词 )； （指人）发出类似的哼声； 咕哝着说 | |
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chuckled
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| 轻声地笑( chuckle的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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covertly
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| adv.偷偷摸摸地 | |
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alluded
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| 提及，暗指( allude的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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speculations
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| n.投机买卖( speculation的名词复数 )；思考；投机活动；推断 | |
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conspicuously
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| ad.明显地，惹人注目地 | |
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noted
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| adj.著名的，知名的 | |
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precedent
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| n.先例，前例；惯例；adj.在前的，在先的 | |
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82
cork
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| n.软木，软木塞 | |
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83
abashed
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| adj.窘迫的，尴尬的v.使羞愧，使局促，使窘迫( abash的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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apparition
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| n.幽灵，神奇的现象 | |
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85
gee
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| n.马；int.向右！前进！，惊讶时所发声音；v.向右转 | |
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reins
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| 感情，激情； 缰( rein的名词复数 )； 控制手段； 掌管； （成人带着幼儿走路以防其走失时用的）保护带 | |
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reassuring
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| a.使人消除恐惧和疑虑的，使人放心的 | |
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twilight
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| n.暮光，黄昏；暮年，晚期，衰落时期 | |
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dwindled
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| v.逐渐变少或变小( dwindle的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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insignificance
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| n.不重要；无价值；无意义 | |
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fragrant
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| adj.芬香的，馥郁的，愉快的 | |
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laboriously
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| adv.艰苦地；费力地；辛勤地；（文体等）佶屈聱牙地 | |
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laborious
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| adj.吃力的，努力的，不流畅 | |
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inordinately
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| adv.无度地，非常地 | |
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95
hawthorn
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| 山楂 | |
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mighty
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| adj.强有力的；巨大的 | |
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97
cannily
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| 精明地 | |
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98
extemporaneous
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| adj.即席的，一时的 | |
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99
converse
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| vi.谈话，谈天，闲聊；adv.相反的，相反 | |
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whack
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| v.敲击，重打，瓜分；n.重击，重打，尝试，一份 | |
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