But what stirred up the district still more, was the work going on at The Ladies' Paradise. Considerable enlargements were talked of, gigantic shops having frontages in the Rue de la Michodière, the Rue Neuve-Saint-Augustin, and the Rue Monsigny. Mouret, it was said, had made arrangements with Baron7 Hartmann, chairman of the Crédit Immobilier, and he would occupy the whole block, except the future frontage in the Rue du Dix-Décembre, on which the baron wished to construct a rival to the Grand Hôtel. The Paradise people were buying up leases on all sides, the shops were closing, the tenants8 moving; and in the empty buildings an army of workmen were commencing the various alterations10 under a cloud of plaster. In the midst of this disorder11, old Bourras's narrow hovel was the only one that remained standing12 and intact, obstinately13 sticking between the high walls covered with masons.
When, the next day, Denise went with Pépé to her uncle Baudu's, the street was just at that moment blocked up by a line of tumbrels discharging bricks before the Hôtel Duvillard. Baudu was standing at his shop door looking on with a gloomy air. As The Ladies' Paradise became larger, The Old Elbeuf seemed to get smaller. The young girl thought the windows looked blacker than ever, and more and more crushed beneath the low first storey, with its prison-like bars; the damp had still further discoloured the old green sign-board, a sort of distress15 oozed16 from the whole frontage, livid in hue17, and, as it were, grown thinner.
“Here you are, then!” said Baudu. “Take care! they would run right over you.”
Inside the shop, Denise experienced the same heart-broken sensation; she found it darker, invaded more than ever by the somnolence18 of approaching ruin; empty corners formed dark and gloomy holes, the dust was invading the counters and drawers, whilst an odour of saltpetre rose from the bales of cloth that were no longer moved about. At the desk Madame Baudu and Geneviève were standing mute and motionless, as in some solitary19 spot, where no one would come to disturb them. The mother was hemming20 some dusters. The daughter, her hands spread on her knees, was gazing at the emptiness before her.
“Good evening, aunt,” said Denise; “I'm delighted to see you again, and if I have hurt your feelings, I hope you will forgive me.”
Madame Baudu kissed her, greatly affected21. “My poor child,” said she, “if I had no other troubles, you would see me gayer than this.”
“Good evening, cousin,” resumed Denise, kissing Geneviève on the cheeks.
The latter woke up with a sort of start, and returned her kisses, without finding a word to say. The two women then took up Pépé, who was holding out his little arms, and the reconciliation22 was complete.
“Well! it's six o'clock, let's go to dinner,” said Baudu. “Why haven't you brought Jean?”
“But he was to come,” murmured Denise, embarrassed. “I saw him this morning, and he faithfully promised me. Oh! we must not wait for him; his master has kept him, I dare say.” She suspected some extraordinary adventure, and wished to apologise for him in advance.
“In that case, we will commence,” said her uncle. Then turning towards the obscure depths of the shop, he added:
“Come on, Colomban, you can dine with us. No one will come.”
Denise had not noticed the shopman. Her aunt explained to her that they had been obliged to get rid of the other salesman and the young lady. Business was getting so bad that Colomban sufficed; and even he spent many idle hours, drowsy23, falling off to sleep with his eyes open. The gas was burning in the dining-room, although they were enjoying long summer days. Denise slightly shivered on entering, seized by the dampness falling from the walls. She once more beheld24 the round table, the places laid on the American cloth, the window drawing its air and light from the dark and fetid back yard. And these things appeared to her to be gloomier than ever, and tearful like the shop.
“Father,” said Geneviève, uncomfortable for Denise's sake, “shall I close the window? there's rather a bad smell.”
He smelt25 nothing, and seemed surprised. “Shut the window if you like,” replied he at last. “But we sha'n't get any air then.”
And indeed they were almost stifled26. It was a family dinner, very simple. After the soup, as soon as the servant had served the boiled beef, the old man as usual commenced about the people opposite. At first he showed himself very tolerant, allowing his niece to have a different opinion.
“Dear me! you are quite free to support these great hairbrained houses. Each one has his ideas, my girl. If you were not disgusted at being so disgracefully chucked out you must have strong reasons for liking27 them; and even if you went back again, I should think none the worse of you. No one here would be offended, would they?”
“Oh, no!” murmured Madame Baudu.
Denise quietly gave her reasons, as she had at Robineau's: the logical evolution in business, the necessities of modern times, the greatness of these new creations, in short, the growing well-being28 of the public. Baudu, his eyes opened, and his mouth clamming29, listened with a visible tension of intelligence. Then, when she had finished, he shook his head.
“That's all phantasmagoria, you know. Business is business, there's no getting over that. I own that they succeed, but that's all. For a long time I thought they would smash up; yes, I expected that, waiting patiently—you remember? Well, no, it appears that now-a-days thieves make fortunes, whilst honest people die of hunger. That's what we've come to. I'm obliged to bow to facts. And I do bow, on my word, I do bow!” A deep anger was gradually rising within him. All at once he flourished his fork. “But The Old Elbeuf will never give way! I said as much to Bourras, you know, 'Neighbour, you're going over to the cheapjacks; your paint and your varnish30 are a disgrace.'”
“Eat your dinner!” interrupted Madame Baudu, feeling anxious, on seeing him so excited.
“Wait a bit, I want my niece thoroughly31 to understand my motto. Just listen, my girl: I'm like this decanter, I don't budge32. They succeed, so much the worse for them! As for me, I protest—that's all!”
The servant brought in a piece of roast veal33. He cut it up with his trembling hands; but he no longer had his correct glance, his skill in weighing the portions. The consciousness of his defeat deprived him of the confidence he used to have as a respected employer. Pépé thought his uncle was getting angry, and they had to pacify34 him, by giving him some dessert, some biscuits which were near his plate. Then Baudu, lowering his voice, tried to talk of something else. For a moment he spoke35 of the demolitions36 going on, approving of the Rue du Dix-Décembre, the cutting of which would certainly improve the business of the neighbourhood. But then again he returned to The Ladies' Paradise; everything brought him back to it, it was a kind of complaint. They were covered with plaster, and business was stopped since the builders' carts had commenced to block up the street. It would soon be really ridiculous, in its immensity; the customers would lose themselves. Why not have the central markets at once? And, in spite of his wife's supplicating38 looks, notwithstanding his own effort, he went on from the works to the amount of business done in the big shop. Was it not inconceivable? In less than four years they had increased their figures five-fold; the annual receipts, formerly39 eight million francs, now attained40 the sum of forty millions, according to the last balance-sheet. In fact it was a piece of folly41, a thing that had never been seen before, and against which it was perfectly42 useless to struggle. They were always increasing, they had now a thousand employees and twenty-eight departments. These twenty-eight departments enraged43 him more than anything else. No doubt they had duplicated a few, but others were quite new; for instance, a furniture department, and a department for fancy goods. The idea! Fancy goods! Really these people were not at all proud, they would end by selling fish. Baudu, though affecting to respect Denise's opinions, attempted to convert her.
“Frankly, you can't defend them. What would you say were I to add a hardware department to my cloth business? You would say I was mad. Confess, at least, that you don't esteem44 them.”
And as the young girl simply smiled, feeling uncomfortable, understanding the uselessness of good reasons, he resumed:
“In short, you are on their side. We won't talk about it any more, for ifs useless to let that part us again. It would be too much to see them come between me and my family! Go back with them, if you like; but pray don't worry me with any more of their stories!”
A silence ensued. His former violence was reduced to this feverish45 resignation. As they were suffocating46 in the narrow room, heated by the gas-burner, the servant had to open the window again; and the damp, pestilential air from the yard blew into the apartment. A dish of stewed47 potatoes appeared, and they helped themselves slowly, without a word.
“Look at those two,” recommenced Baudu, pointing with his knife to Geneviève and Colomban. “Ask them if they like your Ladies' Paradise.”
Side by side in the usual place where they had found themselves twice a-day for the last twelve years, the engaged couple were eating in moderation, and without uttering a word. He, exaggerating the coarse good-nature of his face, seemed to be concealing48, behind his drooping49 eyelashes, the inner flame which was devouring50 him; whilst she, her head bowed lower beneath her too heavy hair, seemed to be giving way entirely51, as if ravaged52 by a secret grief.
“Last year was very disastrous,” explained Baudu, “and we have been obliged to postpone53 the marriage, not for our own pleasure; ask them what they think of your friends.” Denise, in order to pacify him, interrogated54 the young people.
“Naturally I can't be very fond of them,” replied Geneviève. “But never fear, every one doesn't detest55 them.”
And she looked at Colomban, who was rolling up some bread-crumbs with an absorbed air. When he felt the young girl's gaze directed towards him, he broke out into a series of violent exclamations56: “A rotten shop! A lot of rogues57, every man-jack of them! A regular pest in the neighbourhood!”
“You hear him!' You hear him!” exclaimed Baudu, delighted. “There's one they'll never get hold of! Ah! my boy, you're the last of the old stock, we sha'n't see any more!” But Geneviève, with her severe and suffering look, still kept her eyes on Colomban, diving into the depths of his heart. And he felt troubled, he redoubled his invectives. Madame Baudu was watching them with an anxious air, as if she foresaw another misfortune in this direction. For some time her daughter's sadness had frightened her, she felt her to be dying. “The shop is left to take care of itself,” said she at last, quitting the table, desirous of putting an end to the scene. “Go and see, Colomban; I fancy I heard some one.”
They had finished, and got up. Baudu and Colomban went to speak to a traveller, who had come for orders. Madame Baudu carried Pépé off to show him some pictures. The servant had quickly cleared the table, and Denise was lounging by the window, looking into the little back yard, when turning round she saw Geneviève still in her place, her eyes fixed58 on the American cloth, which was still damp from the sponge having been passed over it.
“Are you suffering, cousin?” she asked.
The young girl did not reply, obstinately studying a rent in the cloth, too preoccupied59 by the reflections passing through her mind. Then she raised her head with pain, and looked at the sympathising face bent60 over hers. The others had gone, then? What was she doing on this chair? And suddenly a flood of sobs61 stifled her, her head fell forward on the edge of the table. She wept on, wetting her sleeve with her tears.
“Good heavens! what's the matter with you?” cried Denise in dismay. “Shall I call some one?”
Geneviève nervously62 seized her by the arm, and held her back, stammering63: “No, no, stay. Don't let mamma know! With you I don't mind; but not the others—not the others! It's not my fault, I assure you. It was on finding myself all alone. Wait a bit; I'm better, and Pm not crying now.”
But sudden attacks kept seizing her, causing her frail64 body to tremble. It seemed as though the weight of her hair was weighing down her head. As she was rolling her poor head on her folded arms, a hair-pin came out, and her hair fell over her neck, burying it in its folds. Denise, quietly, for fear of attracting attention, tried to console her. She undid65 her dress, and was heart-broken on seeing how fearfully thin she was. The poor girl's bosom66 was as hollow as that of a child. Denise took the hair by handfuls, that superb head of hair which seemed to be absorbing all her life, and twisted it up, to clear it away, and give her a little air.
“Thanks, you are very kind,” said Geneviève. “Ah! I'm not very stout67, am I? I used to be stouter68, but it's all gone away. Do up my dress or mamma might see my shoulders. I hide them as much as I can. Good heavens! I'm not at all well, I'm not at all well.”
However, the attack passed away, and she sat there completely worn out, looking fixedly69 at her cousin. After a pause she abruptly71 asked: “Tell me the truth: does he love her?”
Denise felt a blush rising to her cheek. She was perfectly well aware that Geneviève referred to Colomban and Clara; but she pretended to be surprised.
“Who, dear?”
Geneviève shook her head with an incredulous air. “Don't tell falsehoods, I beg of you. Do me the favour of setting my doubts at rest. You must know, I feel it. Yes, you have been this girl's comrade, and I've seen Colomban run after you, and talk to her in a low voice. He was giving you messages for her, wasn't he? Oh! for pity's sake, tell me the truth; I assure you it will do me good.”
Never had Denise been in such an awkward position. She lowered her eyes before this almost dumb girl, who yet guessed all. However, she had the strength to deceive her still. “But it's you he loves!”
Geneviève turned away in despair. “Very well, you won't tell me anything. However, I don't care, I've seen them. He's continually going outside to look at her. She, upstairs, laughs like a bad woman. Of course they meet out of doors.”
“As for that, no, I assure you!” exclaimed Denise, forgetting herself, carried away by the desire to give her, at least, that consolation72.
The young girl drew a long breath, and smiled feebly. Then with the weak voice of a convalescent: “I should like a glass of water. Excuse me if I trouble you. Look, over there in the sideboard.”
When she got hold of the bottle, she drank a large glassful right off, keeping Denise away with one hand, the latter being afraid Geneviève might do herself harm.
“No, no, let me be; I'm always thirsty. In the night I get up to drink.” There was a fresh silence. Then she went on again quietly: “If you only knew, I've been accustomed to the idea of this marriage for the last ten years. I was still wearing short dresses, when Colomban was courting me. I hardly remember how things have come about By always living together, being shut up here together, without any other distractions73 between us, I must have ended by believing him to be my husband before he really was. I didn't know whether I loved him. I was his wife, and that's all. And now he wants to go off with another girl! Oh, heavens! my heart is breaking! You see, it's a grief that I've never felt before. It hurts me in the bosom, and in the head; then it spreads every where, and is killing74 me.”
Her eyes filled with tears. Denise, whose eyelids75 were also wet with pity, asked her: “Does my aunt suspect anything?”
“Yes, mamma has her suspicions, I think. As to papa, he is too worried, and does not know the pain he is causing me by postponing76 this marriage. Mamma has questioned me several times, greatly alarmed to see me pining away. She has never been very strong herself, and has often said: 'My poor child, I've not made you very strong.' Besides, one doesn't grow much in these shops. But she must find me getting really too thin now. Look at my arms; would you believe it?”
And with a trembling hand she again took up the water bottle. Her cousin tried to prevent her drinking.
“No, I'm so thirsty, let me drink.”
They could hear Baudu talking in a loud voice. Then yielding to an inspiration of her tender heart, Denise knelt down before Geneviève, throwing her arms round her neck, kissing her, and assuring her that everything would turn out all right, that she would marry Colomban, that she would get well, and live happily. But she got up quickly, her uncle was calling her.
“Jean is here. Come along.”
It was indeed Jean, looking rather scared, who had come to dinner. When they told him it was striking eight, he looked amazed. Impossible! He had only just left his master's. They chaffed him. No doubt he had come by way of the Bois de Vincennes. But as soon as he could get near his sister, he whispered to her: “It's a little laundry-girl who was taking back some linen78. I've got a cab outside by the hour. Give me five francs.”
He went out a minute, and then returned to dinner, for Madame Baudu would not hear of his going away without taking, at least, a plate of soup. Geneviève had reappeared in her usual silent and retiring manner. Colomban was half asleep behind the counter. The evening passed away, slow and melancholy79, only animated80 by Baudu's step, as he walked from one end of the empty shop to the other. A single gas-burner was alight—the shadow of the low ceiling fell in large masses, like black earth from a ditch.
Several months passed away. Denise came in nearly every evening to cheer up Geneviève a bit, but the house became more melancholy than ever. The works opposite were a continual torment81, which intensified82 their bad luck. Even when they had an hour of hope—some unexpected joy—the falling of a tumbrel-load of bricks, the sound of the saw of a stonecutter, or the simple call of a mason, sufficed at once to mar37 their pleasure. In fact, the whole neighbourhood felt the shock. From the boarded enclosure, running along and blocking up the three streets, there issued a movement of feverish activity. Although the architect used the existing buildings, he altered them in various ways to adapt them to their new uses; and right in the centre at the opening caused by the court-yards, he was building a central gallery as big as a church, which was to terminate with a grand entrance in the Rue Neuve-Saint-Augustin right in the middle of the frontage. They had, at first, experienced great difficulty in laying the foundations, for they had come on to some sewer83 deposits and loose earth, full of human bones. Besides that, the boring of the well had made the neighbours very anxious—a well three hundred feet deep, destined84 to give two hundred gallons a minute. They had now got the walls up to the first storey; the entire block was surrounded by scaffolding, regular towers of timber work. There was an incessant85 noise from the grinding of the windlasses hoisting86 up the stone, the abrupt70 discharge of iron bars, the clamour of this army of workmen, accompanied by the noise of picks and hammers. But above all, what deafened87 the people was the sound of the machinery88. Everything went by steam, screeching89 whistles rent the air; whilst, at the slightest gust6 of wind, clouds of plaster flew about and covered the neighbouring roofs like a fall of snow. The Baudus in despair looked on at this implacable dust penetrating90 everywhere—getting through the closest woodwork, soiling the goods in their shop, even gliding91 into their beds; and the idea that they must continue to breathe it—that it would finish by killing them—empoisoned their existence.
The situation, however, was destined to become worse still, for in September, the architect, afraid of not being ready, decided92 to carry on the work at night also. Powerful electric lamps were established, and the uproar93 became continuous. Gangs of men relieved each other; the hammers never stopped, the engines whistled night and day; the everlasting94 clamour seemed to raise and scatter95 the white dust The Baudus now had to give up the idea of sleeping even; they were shaken in their beds; the noises changed into nightmare as soon as they fell off to sleep. Then, if they got up to calm their fever, and went, with bare feet, to look out of the window, they were frightened by the vision of The Ladies' Paradise flaring96 in the darkness like a colossal97 forge, where their ruin was being forged. Along the half-built walls, dotted with open bays, the electric lamps threw a large blue flood of light, of a blinding intensity98. Two o'clock struck—then three, then four; and during the painful sleep of the neighbourhood, the works, increased by this lunar brightness, became colossal and fantastic, swarming99 with black shadows, noisy workmen, whose profiles gesticulated on the crude whiteness of the new plastering.
Baudu was quite right. The small traders in the neighbouring streets were receiving another mortal blow. Every time The Ladies' Paradise created new departments there were fresh failures among the shopkeepers of the district The disaster spread, one could hear the cracking of the oldest houses. Mademoiselle Tatin, at the under-linen shop in the Passage Choiseul, had just been declared bankrupt; Quinette, the glover, could hardly hold out another six months; the furriers, Vanpouille, were obliged to sub-let a part of their premises100; and if the Bédorés, brother and sister, the hosiers, still kept on in the Rue Gaillon, they were evidently living on money saved formerly. And now more smashes were going to be added to those long since foreseen; the department for fancy goods threatened a toy-shopkeeper in the Rue Saint-Roch, Deslignières, a big, full-blooded man; whilst the furniture department attacked Messrs. Piot and Rivoire, whose shops were sleeping in the shadow of the Passage Sainte-Anne. It was even feared that an attack of apoplexy would carry off the toyman, who had gone into a terrible rage on seeing The Ladies' Paradise mark up purses at thirty per cent, reduction. The furniture dealers101, who were much calmer, affected to joke at these counter-jumpers who wanted to meddle102 with such articles as chairs and tables; but customers were already leaving them, the success of the department had every appearance of being a formidable one. It was all over, they were obliged to bow their heads. After these others would be swept off, and there was no reason why every business should not be driven away. One day The Ladies' Paradise alone would cover the neighbourhood with its roof.
At present, morning and evening, when the thousand employees went in and came out, they formed such a long procession in the Place Gaillon that people stopped to look at them as they would at a passing regiment103. For ten minutes they blocked up all the streets; and the shopkeepers at their doors thought bitterly of their single assistant, whom they hardly knew how to find food for. The last balance-sheet of the big shop, the forty millions turned over, had also caused a revolution in the neighbourhood. The figure passed from house to house amid cries of surprise and anger. Forty millions! Think of that! No doubt the net profit did not exceed more than four per cent., with their heavy general expenses, and system of low prices; but sixteen hundred thousand francs was a jolly sum, one could be satisfied with four per cent., when one operated on such a scale as that. It was said that Mouret's starting capital of five hundred thousand francs, augmented104 each year by the total profits, a capital which must at that moment have amounted to four millions, had thus passed ten times over the counters in the form of goods. Robineau, when he made this calculation before Denise, after dinner, was overcome for a moment, his eyes fixed on his empty plate. She was right, it was this incessant renewal105 of the capital that constituted the invincible106 force of the new system of business. Bourras alone denied the facts, refusing to understand, superb and stupid as a mile-stone. A pack of thieves and nothing more! A lying set! Cheap-jacks who would be picked up out of the gutter107 one fine morning!
The Baudus, however, notwithstanding their wish not to change anything in the way of The Old Elbeuf, tried to sustain the competition. The customers no longer coming to them, they forced themselves to go to the customers, through the agency of travellers. There was at that time, in the Paris market, a traveller connected with all the great tailors, who saved the little cloth and flannel108 houses when he condescended109 to represent them. Naturally they all tried to get hold of him; he assumed the importance of a personage; and Baudu, having haggled110 with him, had the misfortune of seeing him come to terms with the Matignons, in the Rue Croix-des-Petits-Champs. One after the other, two other travellers robbed him; a third, an honest man, did no business. It was a slow death, without any shock, a continual decrease of business, customers lost one by one. A day came when the bills fell very heavily. Up to that time they had lived on their former savings111; but now they began to contract debts. In December, Baudu, terrified by the amount of the bills he had accepted, resigned himself to a most cruel sacrifice: he sold his country-house at Rambouillet, a house which cost him a lot of money in continual repairs, and for which the tenants had not even paid the rent when he decided to get rid of it. This sale killed the only dream of his life, his heart bled as for the loss of some dear one. And he had to sell for seventy thousand francs that which had cost him more than two hundred thousand, considering himself fortunate to have met the Lhommes, his neighbours, who were desirous of adding to their property. The seventy thousand francs would keep the business going a little longer; for notwithstanding the repulses112 already encountered, the idea of struggling sprang up again; perhaps with great care they might conquer even now.
The Sunday on which the Lhommes paid the money, they were good enough to dine at The Old Elbeuf. Madame Aurélie was the first to arrive; they had to wait for the cashier, who came late, scared by a whole afternoon's music; as for young Albert, he had accepted the invitation, but did not put in an appearance. It was, moreover, a somewhat painful evening. The Baudus, living without air in their narrow dining-room, suffered from the gust of wind brought in by the Lhommes, with their scattered113 family and taste for a free existence. Geneviève, wounded by Madame Aurélie's imperial airs, did not open her mouth; whilst Colomban was admiring her with a shiver, on reflecting that she reigned114 over Clara. Before retiring to rest, in the evening, Madame Baudu being already in bed, Baudu walked about the room for a long time. It was a mild night, thawing115 and damp. Outside, notwithstanding the closed windows, and drawn116 curtains, one could hear the machinery roaring on the opposite side of the way.
“Do you know what I'm thinking of, Elisabeth?” said he at last “Well! these Lhommes may earn as much money as they like, I'd rather be in my shoes than theirs. They get on well, it's true. The wife said, didn't she? that she had made nearly twenty thousand francs this year, and that has enabled her to take my poor house. Never mind! I've no longer the house, but I don't go playing music in one direction, whilst you are gadding117 about in the other. No, look you, they can't be happy.”
He was still labouring under the grief of his sacrifice, nourishing a certain rancour against those people who had bought up his darling dream. When he came near the bed, he gesticulated, leaning over his wife; then, returning to the window, he stood silent for a minute, listening to the noise of the works. And he resumed his old accusations118, his despairing complaints about the new times; nobody had ever seen such things, a shop-assistant earning more than a tradesman, cashiers buying up the employers' property. Everything was going to the dogs; family ties no longer existed, people lived at hôtels instead of eating their meals at home in a respectable manner. He ended by prophesying119 that young Albert would later on swallow up the Rambouillet property with a lot of actresses.
Madame Baudu listened to him, her head flat on the pillow, so pale that her face was the colour of the sheets. “They've paid you,” at length said she, softly.
At this Baudu became dumb. He walked about for an instant with his eyes on the ground. Then he resumed: “They've paid me, 'tis true; and, after all, their money is as good as another's. It would be funny if we revived the business with this money. Ah! if I were not so old and worn out!”
A long silence ensued. The draper was full of vague projects. Suddenly his wife spoke again, her eyes fixed on the ceiling, without moving her head: “Have you noticed your daughter lately?”
“No,” replied he.
“Well! she makes me rather anxious. She's getting pale, she seems to be pining away.”
He stood before the bed, full of surprise. “Really! whatever for? If she's ill she should say so. To-morrow we must send for the doctor.”
Madame Baudu still remained motionless. After a short time, she declared with her meditative120 air: “This marriage with Colomban, I think it would be better to get it over.”
He looked at her, then began walking about again. Certain things came back to his mind. Was it possible that his daughter was falling ill over the shopman? Did she love him so much that she could not wait? Here was another misfortune! It worried him all the more from the fact that he himself had fixed ideas about this marriage. He could never consent to it in the present state of affairs. However, his anxiety softened121 him.
“Very good,” said he at last, “I'll speak to Colomban.” And without saying another word he continued his walk. Soon afterwards his wife fell off to sleep, quite white, as if dead; but he still kept on walking about. Before getting into bed he drew aside the curtains and glanced outside; on the other side of the street, the gaping122 windows of the old Hôtel Duvillard showed the workmen moving about in the dazzling glare of the electric light.
The next morning Baudu took Colomban to the further end of the store, on the upper floor, having made up his mind over night what he should say to him. “My boy,” said he “you know I've sold my property at Rambouillet. That will enable us to show good fight. But I should like beforehand to have a talk with you.”
The young man, who seemed to dread123 the interview, waited with an awkward air. His small eyes twinkled in his large face, and he stood there with his mouth open—a sign with him of profound agitation124.
“Just listen to me,” resumed the draper. “When old Hauchecorne left me The Old Elbeuf, the house was prosperous; he himself had received it from old Finet in a satisfactory state. You know my ideas; I should consider it wrong if I passed this family trust to my children in a diminished state; and that's why I've always postponed126 your marriage with Geneviève. Yes, I was obstinate14; I hoped to bring back our former prosperity; I wanted to hand you the books, saying: 'Look here! the year I commenced we sold so much cloth, and this year, the year I retire, we have sold ten thousand or twenty thousand francs' worth more.' In short, you understand, it was a vow127 I had made to myself, the very natural desire I had to prove that the house had not lost anything in my hands. Otherwise it would seem to me I was robbing you.” His voice was stifled with emotion. He blew his nose to recover a bit, and asked, “You don't say anything?”
But Colomban had nothing to say. He shook his head, and waited, more and more troubled, thinking he could guess what, the governor was aiming at. It was the marriage without further delay. How could he refuse? He would never have the strength. And the other girl, of whom he dreamed at night, devoured128 by such a flame that he frequently threw himself quite naked on the floor, in the fear of dying of it.
“Now,” continued Baudu, “there's a sum of money that may save us. The situation becomes worse every day, and perhaps by making a supreme129 effort——In short, I thought it right to warn you. We are going to venture our last stake. If we are beaten, why that will entirely ruin us! But, my poor boy, your marriage must be again postponed, for I don't wish to throw you two all alone into the struggle. That would be too cowardly, wouldn't it?”
Colomban, greatly relieved, had seated himself on a pile of swan-skin flannel. His legs were still trembling. He was afraid of showing his joy, he held down his head, rolling his fingers on his knees.
“You don't say anything?” repeated Baudu.
No, he said nothing, he could find nothing to say. The draper then slowly continued: “I was sure this would grieve you. You must muster130 up courage. Pull yourself together a bit, don't let yourself be crushed in this way. Above all, understand my position. Can I hang such a weight on your neck? Instead of leaving you a good business, I should leave you a bankruptcy131 perhaps. No, it's only a scoundrel who would play such a trick! No doubt, I desire nothing but your happiness, but no one shall ever make me, go against my conscience.”
And he went on for a long time in this way, swaying about in a maze77 of contradictions, like a man who would have liked to be understood at half a word and finds himself obliged to explain everything. As he had promised his daughter and the shop, strict probity132 forced him to deliver both in good condition, without defects or debts. But he was tired, the burden seemed to be too much for him, his stammering voice was one of supplication133. He got more entangled134 than ever in his words, he was still expecting a sudden rally from Colomban, some heartfelt cry, which came not.
“I know,” murmured he, “that old men are wanting in ardour. With young ones, things light up. They are full of fire, it's natural. But, no, no, I can't, my word of honour! If I gave it up to you, you would blame me later on.”
He stopped, trembling, and as the young man still kept his head down, he asked him for the third time, after a painful silence: “You don't say anything?” At last, but without looking at him, Colomban replied: “There's nothing to say. You are the master, you know better than all of us. As you wish it we'll wait, we'll try and be reasonable.”
It was all over. Baudu still hoped he was going to throw himself into his arms, exclaiming: “Father, do you take a rest, we'll fight in our turn; give us the shop as it is, so that we may work a miracle and save it! Then he looked at him, and was seized with shame, accusing himself of having wished to dupe his children. The deep-rooted maniacal135 honesty of the shopkeeper was awakened136 in him; it was this prudent137 fellow who was right, for in business there is no such thing as sentiment, it is only a question of figures.
“Give me your hand, my boy,” said he in conclusion. “It's settled we won't speak about the marriage for another year. One must think of the business before everything.” That evening in their room when Madame Baudu questioned her husband as to the result of the conversation, the result of the conversation, the latter had resumed his obstinate wish to fight in person to the bitter end. He gave Colomban high praise, calling him a solid fellow, firm in his ideas, brought up with the best principles, incapable138, for instance, of joking with the customers like those puppies at The Paradise. No, he was honest, he belonged to the family, he didn't speculate on the business as though he were a stock-jobber.
“Well, then, when's the marriage to take place?” asked Madame Baudu.
“Later on,” replied he, “when I am able to keep to my promises.”
She made no gestures, she simply observed: “It will be our daughter's death.”
Baudu restrained himself, stirred up with anger. He was the one whom it would kill, if they continually upset him like this! Was it his fault? He loved his daughter—would lay down his life for her; but he could not make the business prosper125 when it obstinately refused to do so. Geneviève ought to have a little more sense, and wait patiently for a better balance-sheet The deuce! Colomban was there, no one would run away with him!
“It's incredible!” repeated he; “such a well-trained girl!”
Madame Baudu said no more. No doubt she had guessed Geneviève's jealous agony; but she did not dare to inform her husband. A singular womanly modesty139 always prevented her approaching certain tender, delicate subjects with him. When he saw her so silent, he turned his anger against the people opposite, stretching his fists out in the air, towards the works, where they were setting up large iron girders, with a great noise of hammers.
Denise had decided to return to The Ladies' Paradise, having understood that the Robineaus, though forced to cut down their staff, did not like to dismiss her. To maintain their position, now, they were obliged to do everything themselves. Gaujean, obstinate in his rancour, renewed their bills, even promised to find them funds; but they were frightened, they wanted to go in for economy and order. During a whole fortnight Denise had felt uneasy with them, and she had to speak first, saying she had found a situation elsewhere. This was a great relief. Madame Robineau embraced her, deeply affected, saying she should always miss her. Then when, in reply to a question, the young girl said she was going back to Mouret's, Robineau turned pale.
“You are right!” he exclaimed violently.
It was not so easy to tell the news to old Bourras. However, Denise had to give him notice, and she trembled, for she was full of gratitude140 towards him. Bourras just at this time was in a continual fever of rage—full of invectives against the works going on next door. The builder's carts blocked up his doorway141; the picks tapped on his walls; everything in his place, the umbrellas and the sticks, danced about to the noise of the hammers. It seemed that the hovel, obstinately remaining amid all these demolitions, was going to give way. But the worst of all was that the architect, in order to connect the existing shops with those about to be opened in the Hôtel Duvillard, had conceived the idea of boring a passage under the little house that separated them. This house belonged to the firm of Mouret & Co., and the lease stipulating142 that the tenant9 should submit to all necessary repairs, the workmen appeared on the scene one morning. At this Bourras nearly went into a fit. Wasn't it enough to strangle him on all sides, on the right, the left, and behind, without attacking him underfoot as well, taking the ground from under him! And he drove the masons away, and went to law. Repairs, yes! but this was rather a work of embellishment. The neighbourhood thought he would carry the day, without, however, being sure of anything The case, however, threatened to be a long one, and people became very excited over this interminable duel143. The day Denise resolved to give him notice, Bourras had just returned from his lawyer.
“Would you believe it!” exclaimed he, “they now say the house is not solid; they pretend that the foundations must be strengthened. Confound it! they have shaken it up so with their infernal machines, that it isn't astonishing if it gives way!”
Then, when the young girl announced she was going away, and that she was going back to The Ladies' Paradise at a salary of a thousand francs, he was so amazed that he simply raised his trembling hands in the air. The emotion made him drop into a chair.
“You! you!” he stammered144. “Ah, I'm the only one—I'm the only one left!” After a pause, he asked: “And the youngster?”
“He'll go back to Madame Gras's,” replied Denise.
“She was very fond of him! that can't be refused. You'll all go. Go, then, leave me here alone. Yes, alone—you understand! There shall be one who will never bow his head. And tell them I'll win my lawsuit145, if I have to sell my last shirt for it!”
Denise was not to leave Robineau's till the end of the month. She had seen Mouret again; everything was settled. One evening as she was going up to her room, Deloche, who was watching for her in a doorway, stopped her. He was delighted, having just heard the good news; they were all talking about it in the shop, he said. And he told her the gossip of the counters.
“You know, the young ladies in the dress department are pulling long faces!” Then, interrupting himself, he added: “By the way, you remember Clara Primaire? Well, it appears the governor has——— You understand?”
He had turned quite red. She, very pale, exclaimed: “Monsieur Mouret!”
“Funny taste—eh?” he resumed. “A woman who looks like a horse. The little girl from the under-linen department, whom he had twice last year, was, at least, good-looking. However, that's his business.”
Denise, once upstairs, almost fainted away. It was surely through coming up too quick. Leaning out of the window she had a sudden vision of Valognes, the deserted146 street and grassy147 pavement, which she used to see from her room as a child; and she was seized with a desire to go and live there—to seek refuge in the peace and forgetfulness of the country. Paris irritated her, she hated The Ladies' Paradise, she hardly knew why she had consented to go back. She would certainly suffer as much as ever there; she was already suffering from an unknown uneasiness since Deloche's stories. Suddenly, without any notice, a flood of tears forced her to leave the window. She wept on for some time, and found a little courage to live on still. The next day at breakfast-time, as Robineau had sent her on an errand, and she was passing The Old Elbeuf, she pushed open the door on seeing Colomban alone in the shop. The Baudus were breakfasting; she could hear the clatter148 of the knives and forks in the little room.
“You can come in,” said the shopman. “They are at breakfast.”
But she motioned him to be silent, and drew him into a corner. Then, lowering her voice, she said: “It's you I want to speak to. Have you no heart? Don't you see that Geneviève loves you, and that it's killing her.”
She was trembling, the previous night's fever had taken possession of her again. He, frightened, surprised at this sudden attack, stood looking at her, without a word.
“Do you hear?” she continued. “Geneviève knows you love another. She told me so. She wept like a child. Ah, poor girl! she isn't very strong now, I can tell you! If you had seen her thin arms! It's heart-breaking. You can't leave her to die like this!”
At last he spoke, quite overcome. “But she isn't ill—you exaggerate! I don't see anything myself. Besides, it's her father who is postponing the marriage.”
Denise sharply corrected this falsehood, certain that the least persistence149 on the part of the young man would decide her uncle. As to Colomban's surprise, it was not feigned150; he had really never noticed Geneviève's slow agony. For him it was a very disagreeable revelation; for while he remained ignorant of it, he had no great blame to tax himself with.
“And who for?” resumed Denise. “For a worthless girl! You can't know who you are loving! Up to the present I have not wanted to hurt your feelings, I have often avoided answering your continual questions. Well! she goes with everybody, she laughs at you, you will never have her, or you may have her, like others, just once in a way.”
He listened to her, very pale; and at each of the sentences she threw into his face, his lips trembled. She, in a cruel fit, yielded to a transport of anger of which she had no consciousness. “In short,” said she in a final cry, “she's with Monsieur Mouret, if you want to know!”
Her voice was stifled, she turned paler than Colomban himself. Both stood looking at each other. Then he stammered out: “I love her!”
Denise felt ashamed of herself. Why was she talking in this way to this young fellow? Why was she getting so excited? She stood there mute, the simple reply he had just given resounded151 in her heart like the clang of a bell, which deafened her. “I love her, I love her!” and it seemed to spread. He was right, he could not marry another woman. And as she turned round, she observed Geneviève on the threshold of the dining-room.
“Be quiet!” she said rapidly.
But it was too late, Geneviève must have heard, for her face was white bloodless. Just at that moment a customer opened the door—Madame Bourdelais, one of the last faithful customers of the Old Elbeuf where she found solid goods for her money; for a long time past Madame de Boves had followed the fashion, and gone over to The Ladies' Paradise; Madame Marty herself no longer came, entirely captivated by the seductions of the display opposite. And Geneviève was forced to go forward, and say in her weak voice:
“What do you desire, madame?”
Madame Bourdelais wished to see some flannel. Colomban took down a roll from a shelf. Geneviève showed the article; and both of them, their hands cold, found themselves brought together behind the counter. Meanwhile Baudu came out of the dining-room last, behind his wife, who had gone and seated herself at the pay-desk. At first he did not meddle with the sale, but stood up, looking at Madame Bourdelais.
“It is not good enough,” said the latter. “Show me the strongest you have.”
Colomban took down another bundle. There was a silence. Madame Bourdelais examined the stuff.
“How much?”
“Six francs, madame,” replied Geneviève. The lady made an abrupt movement. “Six francs!” said she. “But they have the same opposite at five francs.”
A slight contraction152 passed over Baudu's face. He could not help interfering153 politely. No doubt madame made a mistake, the stuff ought to have been sold at six francs and a half; it was impossible to give it at five francs. It must be another quality she was referring to.
“No, no,” she repeated, with the obstinacy154 of a lady who could not be deceived. “The quality is the same. It may even be a little thicker.”
And the discussion got very warm. Baudu, his face getting bilious155, made an effort to continue smiling. His bitterness against The Ladies' Paradise was bursting in his throat.
“Really,” said Madame Bourdelais at last, “you must treat me better, otherwise I shall go opposite, like the others.”
He then lost his head, and cried out, shaking with a passion he could not repress: “Well! go opposite!”
At this she got up, greatly annoyed, and went away without turning round, saying: “That's what I am going to do, sir.”
A general stupor156 ensued. The governor's violence had frightened all of them. He was himself scared, and trembled at what he had just said. The phrase had escaped against his will in the explosion of a long pent-up rancour. And the Baudus now stood there motionless, following Madame Bourdelais with their looks, watching her cross the street. She seemed to be carrying off their fortune. When she slowly passed under the high door of The Ladies' Paradise, when they saw her disappear in the crowd, they felt a sort of sudden wrench157.
“There's another they've taken from us!” murmured the draper. Then turning towards Denise, of whose re-engagement he was aware, he said: “You as well, they've taken you back. Oh, I don't blame you for it. As they have the money, they are naturally the strongest.”
Just then, Denise, still hoping that Geneviève had not overheard Colomban, was saying to her: “He loves you. Try and cheer up.”
But the young girl replied to her in a very low and heartbroken voice: “Why do you tell me a falsehood? Look! he can't help it, he's always glancing up there. I know very well they've stolen him from me, as they've robbed us of everything else.”
Geneviève went and sat down on the seat at the desk near her mother. The latter had doubtless guessed the fresh blow received by her daughter, for her anxious eyes wandered from her to Colomban, and then to The Ladies' Paradise. It was true, they had stolen everything from them: from the father, a fortune; from the mother, her dying child; from the daughter, a husband, waited for for ten years. Before this condemned family, Denise, whose heart was overflowing158 with pity, felt for an instant afraid of being wicked. Was she not going to assist this machine which was crushing the poor people? But she felt herself carried away as it were by an invisible force, and knew that she was doing no wrong.
“Bah!” resumed Baudu, to give himself courage; “we sha'n't die over it, after all. For one customer lost we shall find two others. You hear, Denise, I've got over seventy thousand francs there, which will certainly trouble your Mouret's rest. Come, come, you others, don't look so glum159!”
But he could not enliven them. He himself relapsed into a pale consternation160; and they all stood with their eyes on the monster, attracted, possessed161, full of their misfortune. The work was nearly finished, the scaffolding had been removed from the front, a whole side of the colossal edifice162 appeared, with its walls and large light windows.
Along the pavement at last open to circulation, stood eight vans that the messengers were loading one after the other.
In the sunshine, a ray of which ran along the street, the green panels, picked out with red and yellow, sparkled like so many mirrors, sending blinding reflections right into The Old Elbeuf. The drivers, dressed in black, of a correct appearance, were holding the horses well in, superb pairs, shaking their silvered bits. And each time a van was loaded, there was a sonorous163, rolling noise, which made the neighbouring small shops tremble. And before this triumphal procession, which they were destined to submit to twice a day, the Baudus' hearts broke. The father half fainted away, asking himself where this continual flood of goods could go to; whilst the mother, tormented164 to death about her daughter, continued to gaze into the street, her eyes drowned in a flood of tears.
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1
rue
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| n.懊悔，芸香，后悔；v.后悔，悲伤，懊悔 | |
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judgments
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| 判断( judgment的名词复数 )； 鉴定； 评价； 审判 | |
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3
mansions
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| n.宅第，公馆，大厦( mansion的名词复数 ) | |
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vaudeville
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| n.歌舞杂耍表演 | |
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5
condemned
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| adj. 被责难的, 被宣告有罪的 动词condemn的过去式和过去分词 | |
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6
gust
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| n.阵风，突然一阵（雨、烟等），（感情的）迸发 | |
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7
baron
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| n.男爵；(商业界等)巨头，大王 | |
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8
tenants
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| n.房客( tenant的名词复数 )；佃户；占用者；占有者 | |
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tenant
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| n.承租人；房客；佃户；v.租借，租用 | |
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alterations
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| n.改动( alteration的名词复数 )；更改；变化；改变 | |
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disorder
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| n.紊乱，混乱；骚动，骚乱；疾病，失调 | |
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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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13
obstinately
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| ad.固执地，顽固地 | |
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14
obstinate
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| adj.顽固的，倔强的，不易屈服的，较难治愈的 | |
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15
distress
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| n.苦恼，痛苦，不舒适；不幸；vt.使悲痛 | |
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16
oozed
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| v.（浓液等）慢慢地冒出，渗出( ooze的过去式和过去分词 )；使（液体）缓缓流出；（浓液）渗出，慢慢流出 | |
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hue
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| n.色度；色调；样子 | |
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18
somnolence
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| n.想睡，梦幻；欲寐；嗜睡；嗜眠 | |
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solitary
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| adj.孤独的，独立的，荒凉的；n.隐士 | |
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20
hemming
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| 卷边 | |
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21
affected
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| adj.不自然的，假装的 | |
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reconciliation
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| n.和解，和谐，一致 | |
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drowsy
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| adj.昏昏欲睡的，令人发困的 | |
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24
beheld
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| v.看，注视( behold的过去式和过去分词 )；瞧；看呀；（叙述中用于引出某人意外的出现）哎哟 | |
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smelt
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| v.熔解，熔炼；n.银白鱼，胡瓜鱼 | |
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26
stifled
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| （使）窒息， （使）窒闷( stifle的过去式和过去分词 )； 镇压，遏制； 堵 | |
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27
liking
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| n.爱好；嗜好；喜欢 | |
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28
well-being
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| n.安康，安乐，幸福 | |
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29
clamming
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| v.（在沙滩上）挖蛤( clam的现在分词 ) | |
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30
varnish
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| n.清漆；v.上清漆；粉饰 | |
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thoroughly
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| adv.完全地，彻底地，十足地 | |
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32
budge
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| v.移动一点儿；改变立场 | |
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veal
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| n.小牛肉 | |
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34
pacify
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| vt.使(某人)平静(或息怒)；抚慰 | |
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35
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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demolitions
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| n.毁坏，破坏，拆毁( demolition的名词复数 ) | |
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mar
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| vt.破坏，毁坏，弄糟 | |
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38
supplicating
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| v.祈求，哀求，恳求( supplicate的现在分词 ) | |
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39
formerly
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| adv.从前，以前 | |
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40
attained
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| （通常经过努力）实现( attain的过去式和过去分词 )； 达到； 获得； 达到（某年龄、水平、状况） | |
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41
folly
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| n.愚笨，愚蠢，蠢事，蠢行，傻话 | |
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42
perfectly
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| adv.完美地，无可非议地，彻底地 | |
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43
enraged
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| 使暴怒( enrage的过去式和过去分词 )； 歜； 激愤 | |
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44
esteem
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| n.尊敬，尊重；vt.尊重，敬重；把…看作 | |
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45
feverish
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| adj.发烧的，狂热的，兴奋的 | |
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46
suffocating
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| a.使人窒息的 | |
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47
stewed
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| adj.焦虑不安的，烂醉的v.炖( stew的过去式和过去分词 )；煨；思考；担忧 | |
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48
concealing
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| v.隐藏，隐瞒，遮住( conceal的现在分词 ) | |
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49
drooping
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| adj. 下垂的，无力的 动词droop的现在分词 | |
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50
devouring
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| 吞没( devour的现在分词 )； 耗尽； 津津有味地看； 狼吞虎咽地吃光 | |
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51
entirely
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| ad.全部地，完整地；完全地，彻底地 | |
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52
ravaged
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| 毁坏( ravage的过去式和过去分词 )； 蹂躏； 劫掠； 抢劫 | |
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53
postpone
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| v.延期，推迟 | |
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54
interrogated
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| v.询问( interrogate的过去式和过去分词 )；审问；（在计算机或其他机器上）查询 | |
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55
detest
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| vt.痛恨，憎恶 | |
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56
exclamations
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| n.呼喊( exclamation的名词复数 )；感叹；感叹语；感叹词 | |
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57
rogues
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| n.流氓( rogue的名词复数 )；无赖；调皮捣蛋的人；离群的野兽 | |
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58
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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59
preoccupied
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| adj.全神贯注的，入神的；被抢先占有的；心事重重的v.占据（某人）思想，使对…全神贯注，使专心于( preoccupy的过去式) | |
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60
bent
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| n.爱好，癖好；adj.弯的；决心的，一心的 | |
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61
sobs
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| 啜泣（声），呜咽（声）( sob的名词复数 ) | |
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62
nervously
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| adv.神情激动地，不安地 | |
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63
stammering
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| v.结巴地说出( stammer的现在分词 ) | |
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64
frail
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| adj.身体虚弱的；易损坏的 | |
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65
Undid
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| v. 解开, 复原 | |
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66
bosom
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| n.胸，胸部；胸怀；内心；adj.亲密的 | |
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68
stouter
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| 粗壮的( stout的比较级 )； 结实的； 坚固的； 坚定的 | |
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69
fixedly
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| adv.固定地；不屈地，坚定不移地 | |
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70
abrupt
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| adj.突然的，意外的；唐突的，鲁莽的 | |
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71
abruptly
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| adv.突然地，出其不意地 | |
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72
consolation
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| n.安慰，慰问 | |
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73
distractions
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| n.使人分心的事[人]( distraction的名词复数 )；娱乐，消遣；心烦意乱；精神错乱 | |
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74
killing
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| n.巨额利润；突然赚大钱，发大财 | |
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75
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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76
postponing
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| v.延期，推迟( postpone的现在分词 ) | |
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77
maze
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| n.迷宫，八阵图，混乱，迷惑 | |
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78
linen
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| n.亚麻布，亚麻线，亚麻制品；adj.亚麻布制的，亚麻的 | |
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79
melancholy
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| n.忧郁，愁思；adj.令人感伤（沮丧）的，忧郁的 | |
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80
animated
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| adj.生气勃勃的，活跃的，愉快的 | |
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81
torment
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| n.折磨；令人痛苦的东西(人)；vt.折磨；纠缠 | |
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82
intensified
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| v.（使）增强， （使）加剧( intensify的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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83
sewer
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| n.排水沟，下水道 | |
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84
destined
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| adj.命中注定的；(for)以…为目的地的 | |
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85
incessant
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| adj.不停的，连续的 | |
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86
hoisting
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| 起重，提升 | |
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87
deafened
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| 使聋( deafen的过去式和过去分词 )； 使隔音 | |
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88
machinery
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| n.(总称)机械，机器；机构 | |
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89
screeching
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| v.发出尖叫声( screech的现在分词 )；发出粗而刺耳的声音；高叫 | |
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90
penetrating
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| adj.（声音）响亮的，尖锐的adj.（气味）刺激的adj.（思想）敏锐的，有洞察力的 | |
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91
gliding
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| v. 滑翔 adj. 滑动的 | |
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92
decided
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| adj.决定了的，坚决的；明显的，明确的 | |
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93
uproar
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| n.骚动，喧嚣，鼎沸 | |
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94
everlasting
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| adj.永恒的，持久的，无止境的 | |
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95
scatter
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| vt.撒，驱散，散开；散布/播；vi.分散，消散 | |
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96
flaring
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| a.火焰摇曳的，过份艳丽的 | |
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97
colossal
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| adj.异常的，庞大的 | |
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98
intensity
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| n.强烈，剧烈；强度；烈度 | |
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99
swarming
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| 密集( swarm的现在分词 )； 云集； 成群地移动； 蜜蜂或其他飞行昆虫成群地飞来飞去 | |
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100
premises
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| n.建筑物，房屋 | |
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101
dealers
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| n.商人( dealer的名词复数 )；贩毒者；毒品贩子；发牌者 | |
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102
meddle
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| v.干预，干涉，插手 | |
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103
regiment
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| n.团，多数，管理；v.组织，编成团，统制 | |
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104
Augmented
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| adj.增音的 动词augment的过去式和过去分词形式 | |
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105
renewal
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| adj.(契约)延期，续订，更新，复活，重来 | |
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106
invincible
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| adj.不可征服的，难以制服的 | |
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107
gutter
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| n.沟，街沟，水槽，檐槽，贫民窟 | |
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108
flannel
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| n.法兰绒；法兰绒衣服 | |
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109
condescended
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| 屈尊，俯就( condescend的过去式和过去分词 )； 故意表示和蔼可亲 | |
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110
haggled
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| v.讨价还价( haggle的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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111
savings
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| n.存款，储蓄 | |
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112
repulses
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| v.击退( repulse的第三人称单数 )；驳斥；拒绝 | |
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113
scattered
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| adj.分散的，稀疏的；散步的；疏疏落落的 | |
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114
reigned
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| vi.当政，统治（reign的过去式形式） | |
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115
thawing
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| n.熔化，融化v.（气候）解冻( thaw的现在分词 )；（态度、感情等）缓和；（冰、雪及冷冻食物）溶化；软化 | |
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116
drawn
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| v.拖，拉，拔出；adj.憔悴的，紧张的 | |
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117
gadding
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| n.叮搔症adj.蔓生的v.闲逛( gad的现在分词 )；游荡；找乐子；用铁棒刺 | |
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118
accusations
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| n.指责( accusation的名词复数 )；指控；控告；（被告发、控告的）罪名 | |
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119
prophesying
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| v.预告，预言( prophesy的现在分词 ) | |
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120
meditative
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| adj.沉思的，冥想的 | |
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121
softened
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| （使）变软( soften的过去式和过去分词 )； 缓解打击； 缓和； 安慰 | |
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122
gaping
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| adj.口的；张口的；敞口的；多洞穴的v.目瞪口呆地凝视( gape的现在分词 )；张开，张大 | |
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123
dread
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| vt.担忧，忧虑；惧怕，不敢；n.担忧，畏惧 | |
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124
agitation
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| n.搅动；搅拌；鼓动，煽动 | |
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125
prosper
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| v.成功，兴隆，昌盛；使成功，使昌隆，繁荣 | |
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126
postponed
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| vt.& vi.延期，缓办，（使）延迟vt.把…放在次要地位；[语]把…放在后面（或句尾）vi.（疟疾等）延缓发作（或复发） | |
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127
vow
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| n.誓(言)，誓约；v.起誓，立誓 | |
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128
devoured
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| 吞没( devour的过去式和过去分词 )； 耗尽； 津津有味地看； 狼吞虎咽地吃光 | |
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129
supreme
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| adj.极度的，最重要的；至高的，最高的 | |
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130
muster
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| v.集合，收集，鼓起，激起；n.集合，检阅，集合人员，点名册 | |
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131
bankruptcy
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| n.破产；无偿付能力 | |
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132
probity
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| n.刚直；廉洁，正直 | |
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133
supplication
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| n.恳求，祈愿，哀求 | |
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134
entangled
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| adj.卷入的；陷入的；被缠住的；缠在一起的v.使某人（某物/自己）缠绕，纠缠于（某物中），使某人（自己）陷入（困难或复杂的环境中）( entangle的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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135
maniacal
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| adj.发疯的 | |
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136
awakened
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| v.（使）醒( awaken的过去式和过去分词 )；（使）觉醒；弄醒；（使）意识到 | |
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137
prudent
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| adj.谨慎的，有远见的，精打细算的 | |
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138
incapable
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| adj.无能力的，不能做某事的 | |
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139
modesty
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| n.谦逊，虚心，端庄，稳重，羞怯，朴素 | |
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140
gratitude
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| adj.感激，感谢 | |
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141
doorway
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| n.门口，(喻)入门；门路，途径 | |
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142
stipulating
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| v.（尤指在协议或建议中）规定，约定，讲明（条件等）( stipulate的现在分词 )；规定，明确要求 | |
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143
duel
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| n./v.决斗；(双方的)斗争 | |
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144
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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145
lawsuit
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| n.诉讼，控诉 | |
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146
deserted
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| adj.荒芜的，荒废的，无人的，被遗弃的 | |
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147
grassy
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| adj.盖满草的；长满草的 | |
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148
clatter
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| v./n.(使)发出连续而清脆的撞击声 | |
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149
persistence
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| n.坚持，持续，存留 | |
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150
feigned
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| a.假装的，不真诚的 | |
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151
resounded
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| v.（指声音等）回荡于某处( resound的过去式和过去分词 )；产生回响；（指某处）回荡着声音 | |
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152
contraction
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| n.缩略词，缩写式，害病 | |
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153
interfering
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| adj. 妨碍的 动词interfere的现在分词 | |
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154
obstinacy
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| n.顽固；（病痛等）难治 | |
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155
bilious
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| adj.胆汁过多的；易怒的 | |
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156
stupor
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| v.昏迷；不省人事 | |
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157
wrench
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| v.猛拧；挣脱；使扭伤；n.扳手；痛苦，难受 | |
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158
overflowing
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| n. 溢出物,溢流 adj. 充沛的，充满的 动词overflow的现在分词形式 | |
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159
glum
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| adj.闷闷不乐的，阴郁的 | |
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160
consternation
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| n.大为吃惊，惊骇 | |
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161
possessed
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| adj.疯狂的；拥有的，占有的 | |
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162
edifice
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| n.宏伟的建筑物(如宫殿，教室) | |
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163
sonorous
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| adj.响亮的，回响的；adv.圆润低沉地；感人地；n.感人，堂皇 | |
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164
tormented
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| 饱受折磨的 | |
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