Even on such a day, sizzling work had to be done, as in winter. There were glowing furnaces to be stoked, liquid metals to be poured; but such tasks found seasoned men standing12 to them; and in all the city probably no brave soul challenged the heat more gamely than Mrs. Adams did, when, in a corner of her small and fiery13 kitchen, where all day long her hired African immune cooked fiercely, she pressed her husband's evening clothes with a hot iron. No doubt she risked her life, but she risked it cheerfully in so good and necessary a service for him. She would have given her life for him at any time, and both his and her own for her children.
Unconscious of her own heroism14, she was surprised to find herself rather faint when she finished her ironing. However, she took heart to believe that the clothes looked better, in spite of one or two scorched15 places; and she carried them upstairs to her husband's room before increasing blindness forced her to grope for the nearest chair. Then, trying to rise and walk, without having sufficiently16 recovered, she had to sit down again; but after a little while she was able to get upon her feet; and, keeping her hand against the wall, moved successfully to the door of her own room. Here she wavered; might have gone down, had she not been stimulated17 by the thought of how much depended upon her;—she made a final great effort, and floundered across the room to her bureau, where she kept some simple restoratives. They served her need, or her faith in them did; and she returned to her work.
She went down the stairs, keeping a still tremulous hand upon the rail; but she smiled brightly when Alice looked up from below, where the woodwork was again being tormented18 with superfluous19 attentions.
“Alice, DON'T!” her mother said, commiseratingly. “You did all that this morning and it looks lovely. What's the use of wearing yourself out on it? You ought to be lying down, so's to look fresh for to-night.”
“Hadn't you better lie down yourself?” the daughter returned. “Are you ill, mama?”
“Certainly not. What in the world makes you think so?”
“You look pretty pale,” Alice said, and sighed heavily. “It makes me ashamed, having you work so hard—for me.”
“How foolish! I think it's fun, getting ready to entertain a little again, like this. I only wish it hadn't turned so hot: I'm afraid your poor father'll suffer—his things are pretty heavy, I noticed. Well, it'll do him good to bear something for style's sake this once, anyhow!” She laughed, and coming to Alice, bent20 down and kissed her. “Dearie,” she said, tenderly, “wouldn't you please slip upstairs now and take just a little teeny nap to please your mother?”
But Alice responded only by moving her head slowly, in token of refusal.
“Do!” Mrs. Adams urged. “You don't want to look worn out, do you?”
“I'll LOOK all right,” Alice said, huskily. “Do you like the way I've arranged the furniture now? I've tried all the different ways it'll go.”
“It's lovely,” her mother said, admiringly. “I thought the last way you had it was pretty, too. But you know best; I never knew anybody with so much taste. If you'd only just quit now, and take a little rest——”
“There'd hardly be time, even if I wanted to; it's after five but I couldn't; really, I couldn't. How do you think we can manage about Walter—to see that he wears his evening things, I mean?”
Mrs. Adams pondered. “I'm afraid he'll make a lot of objections, on account of the weather and everything. I wish we'd had a chance to tell him last night or this morning. I'd have telephoned to him this afternoon except—well, I scarcely like to call him up at that place, since your father——”
“No, of course not, mama.”
“If Walter gets home late,” Mrs. Adams went on, “I'll just slip out and speak to him, in case Mr. Russell's here before he comes. I'll just tell him he's got to hurry and get his things on.”
“Maybe he won't come home to dinner,” Alice suggested, rather hopefully. “Sometimes he doesn't.”
“No; I think he'll be here. When he doesn't come he usually telephones by this time to say not to wait for him; he's very thoughtful about that. Well, it really is getting late: I must go and tell her she ought to be preparing her fillet. Dearie, DO rest a little.”
“You'd much better do that yourself,” Alice called after her, but Mrs. Adams shook her head cheerily, not pausing on her way to the fiery kitchen.
Alice continued her useless labours for a time; then carried her bucket to the head of the cellar stairway, where she left it upon the top step; and, closing the door, returned to the “living-room;” Again she changed the positions of the old plush rocking-chairs, moving them into the corners where she thought they might be least noticeable; and while thus engaged she was startled by a loud ringing of the door-bell. For a moment her face was panic-stricken, and she stood staring, then she realized that Russell would not arrive for another hour, at the earliest, and recovering her equipoise, went to the door.
Waiting there, in a languid attitude, was a young coloured woman, with a small bundle under her arm and something malleable21 in her mouth. “Listen,” she said. “You folks expectin' a coloured lady?”
“No,” said Alice. “Especially not at the front door.”
“Listen,” the coloured woman said again. “Listen. Say, listen. Ain't they another coloured lady awready here by the day? Listen. Ain't Miz Malena Burns here by the day this evenin'? Say, listen. This the number house she give ME.”
“Yes'm, if Malena here.”
“Malena is here,” Alice said, and hesitated; but she decided23 not to send the waitress to the back door; it might be a risk. She let her in. “What's your name?”
“Me? I'm name' Gertrude. Miss Gertrude Collamus.”
Gertrude took the little bundle from under her arm. “Yes'm. I'm all fix'.”
“I've already set the table,” Alice said. “I'll show you what we want done.”
She led the way to the dining-room, and, after offering some instruction there, received by Gertrude with languor25 and a slowly moving jaw26, she took her into the kitchen, where the cap and apron were put on. The effect was not fortunate; Gertrude's eyes were noticeably bloodshot, an affliction made more apparent by the white cap; and Alice drew her mother apart, whispering anxiously,
“Do you suppose it's too late to get someone else?”
“I'm afraid it is,” Mrs. Adams said. “Malena says it was hard enough to get HER! You have to pay them so much that they only work when they feel like it.”
“Mama, could you ask her to wear her cap straighter? Every time she moves her head she gets it on one side, and her skirt's too long behind and too short in front—and oh, I've NEVER seen such FEET!” Alice laughed desolately27. “And she MUST quit that terrible chewing!”
“Never mind; I'll get to work with her. I'll straighten her out all I can, dearie; don't worry.” Mrs. Adams patted her daughter's shoulder encouragingly. “Now YOU can't do another thing, and if you don't run and begin dressing28 you won't be ready. It'll only take me a minute to dress, myself, and I'll be down long before you will. Run, darling! I'll look after everything.”
Alice nodded vaguely29, went up to her room, and, after only a moment with her mirror, brought from her closet the dress of white organdie she had worn the night when she met Russell for the first time. She laid it carefully upon her bed, and began to make ready to put it on. Her mother came in, half an hour later, to “fasten” her.
“I'M all dressed,” Mrs. Adams said, briskly. “Of course it doesn't matter. He won't know what the rest of us even look like: How could he? I know I'm an old SIGHT, but all I want is to look respectable. Do I?”
Her mother laughed and gave her a final scrutiny31. “You might use just a tiny bit more colour, dearie—I'm afraid the excitement's made you a little pale. And you MUST brighten up! There's sort of a look in your eyes as if you'd got in a trance and couldn't get out. You've had it all day. I must run: your father wants me to help him with his studs. Walter hasn't come yet, but I'll look after him; don't worry, And you better HURRY, dearie, if you're going to take any time fixing the flowers on the table.”
She departed, while Alice sat at the mirror again, to follow her advice concerning a “tiny bit more colour.” Before she had finished, her father knocked at the door, and, when she responded, came in. He was dressed in the clothes his wife had pressed; but he had lost substantially in weight since they were made for him; no one would have thought that they had been pressed. They hung from him voluminously, seeming to be the clothes of a larger man.
“One of the buttonholes in my shirt is too large and I can't keep the dang thing fastened. I don't know what to do about it! I only got one other white shirt, and it's kind of ruined: I tried it before I did this one. Do you s'pose you could do anything?”
“I'll see,” she said.
“My collar's got a frayed33 edge,” he complained, as she examined his troublesome shirt. “It's a good deal like wearing a saw; but I expect it'll wilt34 down flat pretty soon, and not bother me long. I'm liable to wilt down flat, myself, I expect; I don't know as I remember any such hot night in the last ten or twelve years.” He lifted his head and sniffed35 the flaccid air, which was laden36 with a heavy odour. “My, but that smell is pretty strong!” he said.
“Stand still, please, papa,” Alice begged him. “I can't see what's the matter if you move around. How absurd you are about your old glue smell, papa! There isn't a vestige37 of it, of course.”
“I didn't mean glue,” he informed her. “I mean cabbage. Is that fashionable now, to have cabbage when there's company for dinner?”
“Oh, is it? I don't mind it much, because it keeps that glue smell off me, but it's fairly strong. I expect you don't notice it so much because you been in the house with it all along, and got used to it while it was growing.”
“It is pretty dreadful,” Alice said. “Are all the windows open downstairs?”
“I'll go down and see, if you'll just fix that hole up for me.”
“I'm afraid I can't,” she said. “Not unless you take your shirt off and bring it to me. I'll have to sew the hole smaller.”
“Oh, well, I'll go ask your mother to——”
“No,” said Alice. “She's got everything on her hands. Run and take it off. Hurry, papa; I've got to arrange the flowers on the table before he comes.”
He went away, and came back presently, half undressed, bringing the shirt. “There's ONE comfort,” he remarked, pensively39, as she worked. “I've got that collar off—for a while, anyway. I wish I could go to table like this; I could stand it a good deal better. Do you seem to be making any headway with the dang thing?”
“I think probably I can——”
Downstairs the door-bell rang, and Alice's arms jerked with the shock.
“Golly!” her father said. “Did you stick your finger with that fool needle?”
She gave him a blank stare. “He's come!”
She was not mistaken, for, upon the little veranda40, Russell stood facing the closed door at last. However, it remained closed for a considerable time after he rang. Inside the house the warning summons of the bell was immediately followed by another sound, audible to Alice and her father as a crash preceding a series of muffled41 falls. Then came a distant voice, bitter in complaint.
“Oh, Lord!” said Adams. “What's that?”
Alice went to the top of the front stairs, and her mother appeared in the hall below.
“Mama!”
Mrs. Adams looked up. “It's all right,” she said, in a loud whisper. “Gertrude fell down the cellar stairs. Somebody left a bucket there, and——” She was interrupted by a gasp42 from Alice, and hastened to reassure43 her. “Don't worry, dearie. She may limp a little, but——”
Adams leaned over the banisters. “Did she break anything?” he asked.
“Hush!” his wife whispered. “No. She seems upset and angry about it, more than anything else; but she's rubbing herself, and she'll be all right in time to bring in the little sandwiches. Alice! Those flowers!”
“I know, mama. But——”
“Hurry!” Mrs. Adams warned her. “Both of you hurry! I MUST let him in!”
She turned to the door, smiling cordially, even before she opened it. “Do come right in, Mr. Russell,” she said, loudly, lifting her voice for additional warning to those above. “I'm SO glad to receive you informally, this way, in our own little home. There's a hat-rack here under the stairway,” she continued, as Russell, murmuring some response, came into the hall. “I'm afraid you'll think it's almost TOO informal, my coming to the door, but unfortunately our housemaid's just had a little accident—oh, nothing to mention! I just thought we better not keep you waiting any longer. Will you step into our living-room, please?”
She led the way between the two small columns, and seated herself in one of the plush rocking-chairs, selecting it because Alice had once pointed44 out that the chairs, themselves, were less noticeable when they had people sitting in them. “Do sit down, Mr. Russell; it's so very warm it's really quite a trial just to stand up!”
“Thank you,” he said, as he took a seat. “Yes. It is quite warm.” And this seemed to be the extent of his responsiveness for the moment. He was grave, rather pale; and Mrs. Adams's impression of him, as she formed it then, was of “a distinguished-looking young man, really elegant in the best sense of the word, but timid and formal when he first meets you.” She beamed upon him, and used with everything she said a continuous accompaniment of laughter, meaningless except that it was meant to convey cordiality. “Of course we DO have a great deal of warm weather,” she informed him. “I'm glad it's so much cooler in the house than it is outdoors.”
“Yes,” he said. “It is pleasanter indoors.” And, stopping with this single untruth, he permitted himself the briefest glance about the room; then his eyes returned to his smiling hostess.
“Most people make a great fuss about hot weather,” she said. “The only person I know who doesn't mind the heat the way other people do is Alice. She always seems as cool as if we had a breeze blowing, no matter how hot it is. But then she's so amiable45 she never minds anything. It's just her character. She's always been that way since she was a little child; always the same to everybody, high and low. I think character's the most important thing in the world, after all, don't you, Mr. Russell?”
“Yes,” he said, solemnly; and touched his bedewed white forehead with a handkerchief.
“Indeed it is,” she agreed with herself, never failing to continue her murmur9 of laughter. “That's what I've always told Alice; but she never sees anything good in herself, and she just laughs at me when I praise her. She sees good in everybody ELSE in the world, no matter how unworthy they are, or how they behave toward HER; but she always underestimates herself. From the time she was a little child she was always that way. When some other little girl would behave selfishly or meanly toward her, do you think she'd come and tell me? Never a word to anybody! The little thing was too proud! She was the same way about school. The teachers had to tell me when she took a prize; she'd bring it home and keep it in her room without a word about it to her father and mother. Now, Walter was just the other way. Walter would——” But here Mrs. Adams checked herself, though she increased the volume of her laughter. “How silly of me!” she exclaimed. “I expect you know how mothers ARE, though, Mr. Russell. Give us a chance and we'll talk about our children forever! Alice would feel terribly if she knew how I've been going on about her to you.”
In this Mrs. Adams was right, though she did not herself suspect it, and upon an almost inaudible word or two from him she went on with her topic. “Of course my excuse is that few mothers have a daughter like Alice. I suppose we all think the same way about our children, but SOME of us must be right when we feel we've got the best. Don't you think so?”
“Yes. Yes, indeed.”
“I'm sure I am!” she laughed. “I'll let the others speak for themselves.” She paused reflectively. “No; I think a mother knows when she's got a treasure in her family. If she HASN'T got one, she'll pretend she has, maybe; but if she has, she knows it. I certainly know I have. She's always been what people call 'the joy of the household'—always cheerful, no matter what went wrong, and always ready to smooth things over with some bright, witty46 saying. You must be sure not to TELL we've had this little chat about her—she'd just be furious with me—but she IS such a dear child! You won't tell her, will you?”
“No,” he said, and again applied47 the handkerchief to his forehead for an instant. “No, I'll——” He paused, and finished lamely48: “I'll—not tell her.”
Thus reassured49, Mrs. Adams set before him some details of her daughter's popularity at sixteen, dwelling50 upon Alice's impartiality51 among her young suitors: “She never could BEAR to hurt their feelings, and always treated all of them just alike. About half a dozen of them were just BOUND to marry her! Naturally, her father and I considered any such idea ridiculous; she was too young, of course.”
Thus the mother went on with her biographical sketches52, while the pale young man sat facing her under the hard overhead light of a white globe, set to the ceiling; and listened without interrupting. She was glad to have the chance to tell him a few things about Alice he might not have guessed for himself, and, indeed, she had planned to find such an opportunity, if she could; but this was getting to be altogether too much of one, she felt. As time passed, she was like an actor who must improvise53 to keep the audience from perceiving that his fellow-players have missed their cues; but her anxiety was not betrayed to the still listener; she had a valiant54 soul.
Alice, meanwhile, had arranged her little roses on the table in as many ways, probably, as there were blossoms; and she was still at it when her father arrived in the dining-room by way of the back stairs and the kitchen.
“It's pulled out again,” he said. “But I guess there's no help for it now; it's too late, and anyway it lets some air into me when it bulges55. I can sit so's it won't be noticed much, I expect. Isn't it time you quit bothering about the looks of the table? Your mother's been talking to him about half an hour now, and I had the idea he came on your account, not hers. Hadn't you better go and——”
“Just a minute.” Alice said, piteously. “Do YOU think it looks all right?”
“The flowers? Fine! Hadn't you better leave 'em the way they are, though?”
“Just a minute,” she begged again. “Just ONE minute, papa!” And she exchanged a rose in front of Russell's plate for one that seemed to her a little larger.
“You better come on,” Adams said, moving to the door.
“Just ONE more second, papa.” She shook her head, lamenting56. “Oh, I wish we'd rented some silver!”
“Why?”
“Because so much of the plating has rubbed off a lot of it. JUST a second, papa.” And as she spoke57 she hastily went round the table, gathering58 the knives and forks and spoons that she thought had their plating best preserved, and exchanging them for more damaged pieces at Russell's place. “There!” she sighed, finally.
“What's the matter now?”
“The roses. I believe after all I shouldn't have tried that vine effect; I ought to have kept them in water, in the vase. It's so hot, they already begin to look a little wilted60, out on the dry tablecloth61 like that. I believe I'll——”
“Why, look here, Alice!” he remonstrated62, as she seemed disposed to turn back. “Everything'll burn up on the stove if you keep on——”
“Oh, well,” she said, “the vase was terribly ugly; I can't do any better. We'll go in.” But with her hand on the door-knob she paused. “No, papa. We mustn't go in by this door. It might look as if——”
“As if what?”
“Never mind,” she said. “Let's go the other way.”
“I don't see what difference it makes,” he grumbled63, but nevertheless followed her through the kitchen, and up the back stairs then through the upper hallway. At the top of the front stairs she paused for a moment, drawing a deep breath; and then, before her father's puzzled eyes, a transformation64 came upon her.
Her shoulders, like her eyelids65, had been drooping66, but now she threw her head back: the shoulders straightened, and the lashes67 lifted over sparkling eyes; vivacity68 came to her whole body in a flash; and she tripped down the steps, with her pretty hands rising in time to the lilting little tune69 she had begun to hum.
At the foot of the stairs, one of those pretty hands extended itself at full arm's length toward Russell, and continued to be extended until it reached his own hand as he came to meet her. “How terrible of me!” she exclaimed. “To be so late coming down! And papa, too—I think you know each other.”
Her father was advancing toward the young man, expecting to shake hands with him, but Alice stood between them, and Russell, a little flushed, bowed to him gravely over her shoulder, without looking at him; whereupon Adams, slightly disconcerted, put his hands in his pockets and turned to his wife.
“I guess dinner's more'n ready,” he said. “We better go sit down.”
But she shook her head at him fiercely, “Wait!” she whispered.
“What for? For Walter?”
“No; he can't be coming,” she returned, hurriedly, and again warned him by a shake of her head. “Be quiet!”
“Oh, well——” he muttered.
“Sit down!”
He was thoroughly70 mystified, but obeyed her gesture and went to the rocking-chair in the opposite corner, where he sat down, and, with an expression of meek71 inquiry72, awaited events.
Meanwhile, Alice prattled73 on: “It's really not a fault of mine, being tardy74. The shameful75 truth is I was trying to hurry papa. He's incorrigible76: he stays so late at his terrible old factory—terrible new factory, I should say. I hope you don't HATE us for making you dine with us in such fearful weather! I'm nearly dying of the heat, myself, so you have a fellow-sufferer, if that pleases you. Why is it we always bear things better if we think other people have to stand them, too?” And she added, with an excited laugh: “SILLY of us, don't you think?”
Gertrude had just made her entrance from the dining-room, bearing a tray. She came slowly, with an air of resentment77; and her skirt still needed adjusting, while her lower jaw moved at intervals78, though not now upon any substance, but reminiscently, of habit. She halted before Adams, facing him.
For response, she extended the tray toward him with a gesture of indifference80; but he still appeared to be puzzled. “What in the world——?” he began, then caught his wife's eye, and had presence of mind enough to take a damp and plastic sandwich from the tray. “Well, I'll TRY one,” he said, but a moment later, as he fulfilled this promise, an expression of intense dislike came upon his features, and he would have returned the sandwich to Gertrude. However, as she had crossed the room to Mrs. Adams he checked the gesture, and sat helplessly, with the sandwich in his hand. He made another effort to get rid of it as the waitress passed him, on her way back to the dining-room, but she appeared not to observe him, and he continued to be troubled by it.
Alice was a loyal daughter. “These are delicious, mama,” she said; and turning to Russell, “You missed it; you should have taken one. Too bad we couldn't have offered you what ought to go with it, of course, but——”
She was interrupted by the second entrance of Gertrude, who announced, “Dinner serve',” and retired81 from view.
“Well, well!” Adams said, rising from his chair, with relief. “That's good! Let's go see if we can eat it.” And as the little group moved toward the open door of the dining-room he disposed of his sandwich by dropping it in the empty fireplace.
Alice, glancing back over her shoulder, was the only one who saw him, and she shuddered82 in spite of herself. Then, seeing that he looked at her entreatingly83, as if he wanted to explain that he was doing the best he could, she smiled upon him sunnily, and began to chatter84 to Russell again.
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收听单词发音
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1
intemperate
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| adj.无节制的，放纵的 | |
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whooped
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| 叫喊( whoop的过去式和过去分词 )； 高声说； 唤起 | |
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satires
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| 讽刺，讥讽( satire的名词复数 )； 讽刺作品 | |
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shovels
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| n.铲子( shovel的名词复数 )；锹；推土机、挖土机等的)铲；铲形部份v.铲子( shovel的第三人称单数 )；锹；推土机、挖土机等的)铲；铲形部份 | |
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flickered
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| （通常指灯光）闪烁，摇曳( flicker的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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sluggish
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| adj.懒惰的，迟钝的，无精打采的 | |
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pedestrians
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| n.步行者( pedestrian的名词复数 ) | |
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drooped
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| 弯曲或下垂，发蔫( droop的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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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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suburban
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| adj.城郊的，在郊区的 | |
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outskirts
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| n.郊外，郊区 | |
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standing
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| n.持续，地位；adj.永久的，不动的，直立的，不流动的 | |
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fiery
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| adj.燃烧着的，火红的；暴躁的；激烈的 | |
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heroism
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| n.大无畏精神，英勇 | |
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scorched
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| 烧焦，烤焦( scorch的过去式和过去分词 )； 使（植物）枯萎，把…晒枯； 高速行驶； 枯焦 | |
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sufficiently
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| adv.足够地，充分地 | |
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stimulated
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| a.刺激的 | |
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tormented
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| 饱受折磨的 | |
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superfluous
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| adj.过多的，过剩的，多余的 | |
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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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malleable
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| adj.(金属)可锻的;有延展性的；(性格)可训练的 | |
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dismally
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| adv.阴暗地，沉闷地 | |
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decided
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| adj.决定了的，坚决的；明显的，明确的 | |
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apron
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| n.围裙；工作裙 | |
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languor
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| n.无精力，倦怠 | |
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jaw
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| n.颚，颌，说教，流言蜚语；v.喋喋不休，教训 | |
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desolately
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| 荒凉地，寂寞地 | |
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dressing
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| n.(食物)调料；包扎伤口的用品，敷料 | |
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vaguely
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| adv.含糊地，暖昧地 | |
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gulp
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| vt.吞咽，大口地吸（气）；vi.哽住；n.吞咽 | |
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scrutiny
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| n.详细检查，仔细观察 | |
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32
distress
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| n.苦恼，痛苦，不舒适；不幸；vt.使悲痛 | |
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frayed
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| adj.磨损的v.（使布、绳等）磨损，磨破( fray的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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wilt
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| v.(使)植物凋谢或枯萎；(指人)疲倦，衰弱 | |
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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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laden
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| adj.装满了的；充满了的；负了重担的；苦恼的 | |
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vestige
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| n.痕迹，遗迹，残余 | |
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sprouts
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| n.新芽，嫩枝( sprout的名词复数 )v.发芽( sprout的第三人称单数 )；抽芽；出现；（使）涌现出 | |
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pensively
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| adv.沉思地，焦虑地 | |
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veranda
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| n.走廊；阳台 | |
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muffled
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| adj.（声音）被隔的；听不太清的；（衣服）裹严的；蒙住的v.压抑，捂住( muffle的过去式和过去分词 )；用厚厚的衣帽包着（自己） | |
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42
gasp
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| n.喘息，气喘；v.喘息；气吁吁他说 | |
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reassure
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| v.使放心，使消除疑虑 | |
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pointed
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| adj.尖的，直截了当的 | |
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amiable
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| adj.和蔼可亲的，友善的，亲切的 | |
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witty
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| adj.机智的，风趣的 | |
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applied
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| adj.应用的；v.应用，适用 | |
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lamely
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| 一瘸一拐地，不完全地 | |
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reassured
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| adj.使消除疑虑的；使放心的v.再保证，恢复信心( reassure的过去式和过去分词) | |
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50
dwelling
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| n.住宅，住所，寓所 | |
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impartiality
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| n. 公平, 无私, 不偏 | |
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sketches
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| n.草图( sketch的名词复数 )；素描；速写；梗概 | |
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improvise
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| v.即兴创作；临时准备，临时凑成 | |
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valiant
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| adj.勇敢的，英勇的；n.勇士，勇敢的人 | |
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bulges
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| 膨胀( bulge的名词复数 )； 鼓起； （身体的）肥胖部位； 暂时的激增 | |
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lamenting
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| adj.悲伤的，悲哀的v.（为…）哀悼，痛哭，悲伤( lament的现在分词 ) | |
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57
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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gathering
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| n.集会，聚会，聚集 | |
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dubiously
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| adv.可疑地，怀疑地 | |
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wilted
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| （使）凋谢，枯萎( wilt的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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tablecloth
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| n.桌布，台布 | |
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remonstrated
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| v.抗议( remonstrate的过去式和过去分词 )；告诫 | |
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grumbled
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| 抱怨( grumble的过去式和过去分词 )； 发牢骚； 咕哝； 发哼声 | |
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transformation
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| n.变化；改造；转变 | |
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eyelids
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| n.眼睑( eyelid的名词复数 )；眼睛也不眨一下；不露声色；面不改色 | |
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drooping
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| adj. 下垂的，无力的 动词droop的现在分词 | |
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lashes
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| n.鞭挞( lash的名词复数 )；鞭子；突然猛烈的一击；急速挥动v.鞭打( lash的第三人称单数 )；煽动；紧系；怒斥 | |
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vivacity
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| n.快活，活泼，精神充沛 | |
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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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thoroughly
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| adv.完全地，彻底地，十足地 | |
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meek
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| adj.温顺的，逆来顺受的 | |
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inquiry
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| n.打听，询问，调查，查问 | |
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73
prattled
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| v.（小孩般）天真无邪地说话( prattle的过去式和过去分词 )；发出连续而无意义的声音；闲扯；东拉西扯 | |
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tardy
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| adj.缓慢的，迟缓的 | |
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shameful
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| adj.可耻的，不道德的 | |
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incorrigible
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| adj.难以纠正的，屡教不改的 | |
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resentment
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| n.怨愤，忿恨 | |
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78
intervals
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| n.[军事]间隔( interval的名词复数 )；间隔时间；[数学]区间；（戏剧、电影或音乐会的）幕间休息 | |
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plaintive
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| adj.可怜的，伤心的 | |
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80
indifference
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| n.不感兴趣，不关心，冷淡，不在乎 | |
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81
retired
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| adj.隐退的，退休的，退役的 | |
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82
shuddered
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| v.战栗( shudder的过去式和过去分词 )；发抖；（机器、车辆等）突然震动；颤动 | |
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83
entreatingly
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| 哀求地，乞求地 | |
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84
chatter
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| vi.／n.喋喋不休；短促尖叫；(牙齿)打战 | |
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