As early as six o'clock, Mouret was on the spot, giving his final orders. In the centre, starting from the grand entrance, a large gallery ran from end to end, flanked right and left by two narrower galleries, the Monsigny Gallery and the Michodière Gallery. The court-yards had been glazed11 and turned into halls, iron staircases rose from the ground floor, iron bridges were thrown from one end to the other on the two storeys. The architect, who happened to be a young man of talent with modern ideas, had only used stone for the under-ground floor and the corner pillars, constructing the whole ground with the corner pillars, constructing the whole carcase of iron, the assemblage of beams and rafters being supported by columns. The arches of the flooring and the partitions were of brickwork. Space had been gained everywhere, light and air entered freely, and the public circulated with the greatest ease under the bold flights of the far-stretching girders. It was the cathedral of modern commerce, light but solid, made for a nation of customers. Below, in the central gallery, after the door bargains, came the cravat12, the glove, and the silk departments; the Monsigny Gallery was occupied by the linen13 and the Rouen goods; the Michodière Gallery by the mercery, the hosiery, the drapery, and the woollen departments. Then, on the first floor were installed the ready-made, the under-linen, the shawl, the lace, and other new departments, whilst the bedding, the carpets, the furnishing materials, all the cumbersome14 articles difficult to handle, had been relegated15 to the second floor. The number of departments was now thirty-nine, with eighteen hundred employees, of whom two hundred were women. Quite a little world operated there, in the sonorous16 life of the high metallic17 naves18.
Mouret's unique passion was to conquer woman. He wished her to be queen in his house, and he had built this temple to get her completely at his mercy. His sole aim was to intoxicate20 her with gallant21 attentions, and traffic on her desires, work on her fever. Night and day he racked his brain to invent fresh attractions. He had already introduced two lifts lined with velvet22 for the upper storeys, in order to spare delicate ladies the trouble of mounting the stairs. Then he had just opened a bar where the customers could find, gratis23, some light refreshment24, syrups26 and biscuits, and a reading-room, a monumental gallery, decorated with excessive luxury, in which he had even ventured on an exhibition of pictures. But his most profound idea was to conquer the mother through the child, when unable to do so through her coquetry; he neglected no means, speculated on every sentiment, created departments for little boys and girls, arresting the passing mothers by distributing pictures and air-balls to the children. A stroke of genius this idea of distributing to each buyer a red air-ball made of fine gutta-percha, bearing in large letters the name of the shop, and which, held by a string, floated in the air, parading in the streets a living advertisement.
But the greatest power of all was the advertising27. Mouret spent three hundred thousand francs a year in catalogues, advertisements, and bills. For his summer sale he had launched forth28 two hundred thousand catalogues, of which fifty thousand went abroad, translated into every language. He now had them illustrated29 with engravings, even accompanying them with samples, gummed between the leaves. It was an overflowing30 display; The Ladies' Paradise became a household word all over the world, invading the walls, the newspapers, and even the curtains at the theatres. He declared that woman was powerless against advertising, that she was bound to follow the crowd. Not only that, he laid still more seductive traps for her, analysing her like a great moralist. Thus he had discovered that she could not resist a bargain, that she bought without necessity when she thought she saw a cheap line, and on this observation he based his system of reductions in price, progressively lowering the price of unsold articles, preferring to sell them at a loss, faithful to his principle of the continual renewal32 of the goods. He had penetrated33 still further into the heart of woman, and had just thought of the “returns,” a masterpiece of Jesuitical seduction. “Take whatever you like, madame; you can return the article if you don't like it.” And the woman who hesitated was provided with the last excuse, the possibility of repairing an extravagant34 folly35, she took the article with an easy conscience. The returns and the reduction of prices now formed part of the classical working of the new style of business.
But where Mouret revealed himself as an unrivalled master was in the interior arrangement of the shops. He laid down as a law that not a corner of The Ladies' Paradise ought to remain deserted36, requiring everywhere a noise, a crowd, evidence of life; for life, said he, attracts life, increases and multiplies. From this law he drew all sorts of applications. In the first place, there ought always to be a crush at the entrance, so that the people in the street should mistake it for a riot; and he obtained this crush by placing a lot of bargains at the doors, shelves and baskets overflowing with very low-priced articles; so that the common people crowded there, stopping up the doorway37, making the shop look as if it were crammed38 with customers, when it was often only half full. Then, in the galleries, he had the art of concealing39 the departments in which business was slack; for instance, the shawl department in summer, and the printed calico department in winter, he surrounded them with busy departments, drowning them with a continual uproar40. It was he alone who had been inspired with the idea of placing on the second-floor the carpet and furniture counters, counters where the customers were less frequent, and which if placed on the ground floor would have caused empty, cold spaces. If he could have managed it, he would have had the street running through his shop.
Just at that moment, Mouret was a prey41 to an attack of inspiration. On the Saturday evening, as he was giving a last look at the preparations for the Monday's great sale, he was suddenly struck with the idea that the arrangement of the departments adopted by him was wrong and stupid; and yet It seemed a perfectly42 logical arrangement: the stuffs on one side, the made-up articles on the other, an intelligent order of things which would enable the customers to find their way themselves. He had thought of this orderly arrangement formerly43, in Madame Hédouin's narrow shop; and now he felt his faith shaken, just as he carried out his idea. Suddenly he cried out that they would “have to alter all that.” They had forty-eight hours, and half what had been done had to be changed. The staff, frightened, bewildered, had been obliged to work two nights and the entire Sunday, amidst a frightful44 disorder45. On the Monday morning even, an hour before the opening, there was still some goods to be placed. Decidedly the governor was going mad, no one understood, a general consternation47 prevailed.
“Come, look sharp!” cried Mouret, with the quiet assurance of his genius. “There are some more costumes to be taken upstairs. And the Japan goods, are they placed on the central landing? A last effort, my boys, you'll see the sale by-and-by.”
Bourdoncle had also been there since daybreak. He did not understand any more than the others, and he followed the governor's movements with an anxious eye. He hardly dared to ask him any questions, knowing how Mouret received people in these critical moments. However, he at last made up his mind, and gently asked: “Was it really necessary to upset everything like that, on the eve of our sale?”
At first Mouret shrugged48 his shoulders without replying. Then as the other persisted, he burst out: “So that all the customers should heap themselves into one corner—eh? A nice idea of mine! I should never have got over it! Don't you see that it would have localised the crowd. A woman would have come in, gone straight to the department she wished, passed from the petticoat counter to the dress one, from the dress to the mantle49, then retired50, without having even lost herself for a moment? Not one would have thoroughly51 seen the establishment!”
“But,” remarked Bourdoncle, “now that you have disarranged everything, and thrown the goods all over the place, the employees will wear out their legs in guiding the customers from department to department.”
Mouret gave a look of superb contempt. “I don't care a hang for that! They're young, it'll make them grow! So much the better if they do walk about! They'll appear more numerous, and increase the crowd. The greater the crush the better; all will go well!” He laughed, and deigned54 to explain his idea, lowering his voice: “Look here, Bourdoncle, listen to the result. Firstly, this continual circulation of customers disperses55 them all over the shop, multiplies them, and makes them lose their heads; secondly56, as they must be conducted from one end of the establishment to the other, if they want, for instance, a lining57 after having bought a dress, these journeys in every direction triple the size of the house in their eyes; thirdly, they are forced to traverse departments where they would never have set foot otherwise, temptations present themselves on their passage, and they succumb58; fourthly——”
Bourdoncle was now laughing with him. At this Mouret, delighted, stopped to call out to the messengers: “Very good, my boys! now for a sweep, and it'll be splendid!”
But on turning round he perceived Denise. He and Bourdoncle were opposite the ready-made department, which he had just dismembered by sending the dresses and costumes up on the second-floor at the other end of the building. Denise, the first down, was opening her eyes with astonishment59, quite bewildered by the new arrangements.
“What is it?” murmured she; “are we going to move?” This surprise appeared to amuse Mouret, who adored these sensational61 effects. Early in February Denise had returned to The Ladies' Paradise, where she had been agreeably surprised to find the staff polite, almost respectful. Madame Aurélie especially was very kind; Marguerite and Clara seemed resigned; even down to old Jouve, who also bowed his head, with an awkward embarrassed air, as if desirous of effacing63 the disagreeable memory of the past. It sufficed that Mouret had said a few words, everybody was whispering, following her with their eyes. And in this general amiability64, the only things that wounded her were Deloche's singularly melancholy65 looks, and Paulines inexplicable66 smiles. However, Mouret was still looking at her in his delighted way.
“What is it you want, mademoiselle?” asked he at last.
Denise had noticed him. She blushed slightly. Since her return she had received marks of kindness from him which greatly touched her. Pauline, without her knowing why, had given her a full account of the governor's and Clara's love affairs: where he saw her, and what he paid her; and she often returned to the subject, even adding that he had another mistress, that Madame Desforges, well known by all the shop. Such stories stirred up Denise, she felt in his presence all her former fears, an uneasiness in which her gratitude67 was struggling against her anger.
“It's all this confusion going on in the place,” she murmured.
Mouret then approached her and said in a lower voice:
“Have the goodness to come to my office this evening after business. I wish to speak to you.”
Greatly agitated68, she bowed her head without saying a word. And she went into the department where the other saleswomen were now arriving. But Bourdoncle had overheard Mouret, and he looked at him with a smile. He even ventured to say when they were alone:
“That girl again! Be careful; it will end by being serious!”
Mouret hastily defended himself, concealing his emotion beneath an air of superior indifference69. “Never fear, it's only a joke! The woman who'll catch me isn't born, my dear fellow!”
And as the shop was opening at last, he rushed off to give a final look at the various counters. Bourdoncle shook his head. This Denise, so simple and quiet, began to make him uneasy. The first time, he had conquered by a brutal70 dismissal. But she had reappeared, and he felt she had become so strong that he now treated her as a redoubtable71 adversary72, remaining mute before her, patiently waiting. Mouret, whom he caught up, was shouting out downstairs, in the Saint-Augustin Hall, opposite the entrance door:
“Are you playing with me? I ordered the blue parasols to be put as a border. Just pull all that down, and be quick about it!”
He would listen to nothing; a gang of messengers had to come and re-arrange the exhibition of parasols. Seeing the customers arriving, he even had the doors closed for a moment, declaring that he would not open them, rather than have the blue parasols in the centre. It ruined his composition. The renowned73 dressers, Hutin, Mignot, and others, came to look, and opened their eyes; but they affected74 not to understand, being of a different school.
At last the doors were opened again, and the crowd flowed in. From the first, before the shop was full, there was such a crush at the doorway that they were obliged to call the police to re-establish the circulation on the pavement. Mouret had calculated correctly; all the housekeepers75, a compact troop of middle-class women and workmen's wives, swarmed76 around the bargains and remnants displayed in the open street. They felt the “hung” goods at the entrance; a calico at seven sous, a wool and cotton grey stuff at nine sous, and, above all, an Orleans cloth at seven sous and half, which was emptying the poorer purses. There was an elbowing, a feverish77 crushing around the shelves and baskets containing the articles at reduced prices, lace at two sous, ribbon at five, garters at three the pair, gloves, petticoats, cravats78, cotton socks, and stockings, were all tumbled about, and disappearing, as if swallowed up by the voracious79 crowd. Notwithstanding the cold, the shopmen who were selling in the open street could not serve fast enough. A woman in the family way cried out with pain; two little girls were nearly stifled81.
All the morning this crush went on increasing. Towards one o'clock there was a crowd waiting to enter; the street was blocked as in a time of riot. Just at that moment, as Madame de Boves and her daughter Blanche were standing80 on the pavement opposite, hesitating, they were accosted82 by Madame Marty, also accompanied by her daughter Valentine.
“What a crowd—eh?” said the former. “They're killing83 themselves inside. I ought not to have come, I was in bed, but got up to get a little fresh air.”
“Just like me,” said the other. “I promised my husband to go and see his sister at Montmartre. Then just as I was passing, I thought of a piece of braid I wanted. I may as well buy it here as anywhere else, mayn't I? Oh, I sha'n't spend a sou! in fact I don't want anything.”
However, they did not take their eyes off the door, seized and carried away as it were by the force of the crowd.
“No, no, I'm not going in, I'm afraid,” murmured Madame de Boves. “Blanche, let's go away, we should be crushed.” But her voice failed, she was gradually yielding to the desire to follow the others; and her fear dissolved in the irresistible84 attraction of the crush. Madame Marty was also giving way, repeating:
“Keep hold of my dress, Valentine. Ah, well! I've never seen such a thing before. You are lifted off your feet. What will it be like inside?”
The ladies, seized by the current, could not now go back. As streams attract to themselves the fugitive85 waters of a valley, so it seemed that the wave of customers, flowing into the vestibule, was absorbing the passers-by, drinking in the population from the four corners of Paris. They advanced but slowly, squeezed almost to death, kept upright by the shoulders and bellies86 around them, of which they felt the close heat; and their satisfied desire enjoyed the painful entrance which incited87 still further their curiosity. There was a pell-mell of ladies arrayed in silk, of poorly dressed middle-class women, and of bare-headed girls, all excited and carried away by the same passion. A few men buried beneath the overflow31 of bosoms88 were casting anxious glances around them. A nurse, in the thickest of the crowd, held her baby above her head, the youngster crowing with delight. The only one to get angry was a skinny woman, who broke out into bad words, accusing her neighbour of digging right into her.
“I really think I shall lose my skirts in this crowd,” remarked Madame de Boves.
Mute, her face still fresh from the open air, Madame Marty was standing on tip-toe to see above the others' heads into the depths of the shop. The pupils of her grey eyes were as contracted as those of a cat coming out of the broad daylight; she had the reposed89 flesh, and the clear expression of a person just waking up.
“Ah, at last!” said she, heaving a sigh.
The ladies had just extricated90 themselves. They were in the Saint-Augustin Hall, which they were greatly surprised to find almost empty. But a feeling of comfort invaded them, they seemed to be entering into spring-time after emerging from the winter of the street. Whilst outside, the frozen wind, laden91 with rain and hail, was still blowing, the fine season, in The Paradise galleries, was already budding forth with the light stuffs, the flowery brilliancy of the tender shades, the rural gaiety of the summer dresses and the parasols.
“Do look there!” exclaimed Madame de Boves, standing motionless, her eyes in the air.
It was the exhibition of parasols. Wide-open, rounded off like shields, they covered the whole hall, from the glazed roof to the varnished92 oak mouldings below. They described festoons round the semi-circular arches of the upper storeys; they descended93 in garlands along the slender columns; they ran along in close lines on the balustrades of the galleries and the staircases; and everywhere, ranged symmetrically, speckling the walls with red, green, and yellow, they looked like great Venetian lanterns, lighted up for some colossal entertainment. In the corners were more complicated patterns, stars composed of parasols at thirty-nine sous, the light shades of which, pale-blue, cream-white, and blush rose, seemed to burn with the sweetness of a night-light; whilst up above, immense Japanese parasols, on which golden-coloured cranes soared in a purple sky, blazed forth with the reflections of a great conflagration94.
Madame Marty endeavoured to find a phrase to express her rapture95, but could only exclaim, “It's like fairyland!” Then trying to find out where she was she continued: “Let's see, the braid is in the mercery department. I shall buy my braid and be off.”
“I will go with you,” said Madame de Boves. “Eh? Blanche, we'll just go through the shop, nothing more.”
But they had hardly left the door before they lost themselves. They turned to the left, and as the mercery department had been moved, they dropped right into the middle of the one devoted96 to collarettes, cuffs97, trimmings, &c. It was very warm under the galleries, a hot-house heat, moist and close, laden with the insipid98 odour of the stuffs, and in which the stamping of the crowd was stifled. They then returned to the door, where an outward current was already established, an interminable line of women and children, over whom floated a multitude of red air-balls. Forty thousand of these were ready; there were men specially62 placed for their distribution. To see the customers who were going out, one would have thought there was a flight of enormous soap-bubbles above them, at the end of the almost invisible strings99, reflecting the fiery100 glare of the parasols. The whole place was illuminated101 by them.
“There's quite a world here!” declared Madame de Boves. “You hardly know where you are.”
However, the ladies could not remain in the eddy102 of the door, right in the crush of the entrance and exit. Fortunately, Jouve, the inspector103, came to their assistance. He stood in the vestibule, grave, attentive104, eyeing each woman as she passed. Specially charged with the inside police, he was on the lookout105 for thieves, and especially followed women in the family way, when the fever of their eyes became too alarming.
“The mercery department, ladies?” said he obligingly, “turn to the left; look! just there behind the hosiery department.”
Madame de Boves thanked him. But Madame Marty, turning round, no longer saw her daughter Valentine beside her. She was beginning to feel frightened, when she caught sight of her, already a long way off, at the end of the Saint-Augustin Hall, deeply absorbed before a table covered with a heap of women's cravats at nineteen sous. Mouret practised the system of offering articles to the customers, hooking and plundering106 them as they passed; for he used every sort of advertisement, laughing at the discretion107 of certain fellow-tradesmen who thought the articles should be left to speak for themselves. Special salesmen, idle and smooth-tongued Parisians, thus got rid of considerable quantities of small trashy things.
“Oh, mamma!” murmured Valentine, “just look at these cravats. They have a bird embroidered108 at the corners.”
The shopman cracked up the article, swore it was all silk, that the manufacturer had become bankrupt, and that they would never have such a bargain again.
“Nineteen sous—is it possible?” said Madame Marty, tempted109 as well as her daughter. “Well! I can take a couple, that won't ruin us.”
Madame de Boves disdained110 this style of thing, she detested112 things being offered. A shopman calling her made her run away. Madame Marty, surprised, could not understand this nervous horror of commercial quackery113, for she was of another nature; she was one of those fortunate women who delight in being thus violated, in bathing in the caress114 of this public offering, with the enjoyment115 of plunging116 one's hands in everything, and wasting one's time in useless talk.
“Now,” she said, “I'm going for my braid. I don't wish to see anything else.”
However, as she crossed the cravat and glove departments, her heart once more failed her. There was, under the diffuse117 light, a display made up of bright and gay colours, which produced a ravishing effect The counters, symmetrically arranged, seemed like so many flower-borders, changing the hall into a French garden, in which smiled a tender gamut118 of blossoms. Lying on the bare wood, in open boxes, and protruding119 from the overflowing drawers, a quantity of silk hand-kerchiefs displayed the bright scarlet120 of the geranium, the creamy white of the petunia121, the golden yellow of the chrysanthemum122, the sky-blue of the verbena; and higher up, on brass123 stems, twined another florescence, fichus carelessly hung, ribbons unrolled, quite a brilliant cordon124, which extended along, climbed up the columns, and were multiplied indefinitely by the mirrors. But what most attracted the crowd was a Swiss cottage in the glove department, made entirely125 of gloves, a chef d'ouvre of Mignot's, which had taken him two days to arrange. In the first place, the ground-floor was composed of black gloves; then came straw-coloured, mignonette, and red gloves, distributed in the decoration, bordering the windows, forming the balconies, and taking the place of the tiles.
“What do you desire, madame?” asked Mignot, on seeing Madame Marty planted before the cottage. “Here are some Swedish kid gloves at one franc fifteen sous, first quality.”
He offered his wares126 with furious energy, calling the passing customers from the end of his counter, dunning them with his politeness. As she shook her head in refusal he confined: “Tyrolian gloves, one franc five sous. Turin gloves for children, embroidered gloves in all colours.”
“No, thanks; I don't want anything,” declared Madame Marty.
But feeling that her voice was softening127, he attacked her with greater energy than ever, holding the embroidered gloves before her eyes; and she could not resist, she bought a pair. Then, as Madame de Boves looked at her with a smile, she blushed.
“Don't you think me childish—eh? If I don't make haste and get my braid and be off, I shall be done for.”
Unfortunately, there was such a crush in the mercery department that she could not get served. They had both been waiting for over ten minutes, and were getting annoyed, when the sudden meeting with Madame Bourdelais occupied their attention. The latter explained, with her quiet practical air, that she had just brought the little ones to see the show. Madeleine was ten, Edmond eight, and Lucien four years old; and they were laughing with joy, it was a cheap treat long promised.
“They are really too comical; I shall buy a red parasol,” said Madame Marty all at once, stamping with impatience128 at being there doing nothing.
She choose one at fourteen francs and a-half. Madame Bourdelais, after having watched the purchase with a look of blame, said to her amicably129: “You are very wrong to be in such a hurry. In a month's time you could have had it for ten francs. They won't catch me like that.”
And she developed quite a theory of careful housekeeping. As the shops lowered their prices, it was simply a question of waiting. She did not wish to be taken in by them, so she preferred to take advantage of their real bargains. She even showed a feeling of malice130 in the struggle, boasting that she had never left them a sou profit.
“Come,” said she at last, “I've promised my little ones to show them the pictures upstairs in the reading-room. Come up with us, you have plenty of time.”
And the braid was forgotten. Madame Marty yielded at once, whilst Madame de Boves refused, preferring to take a turn on the ground-floor first. Besides, they were sure to meet again upstairs. Madame Bourdelais was looking for a staircase when she perceived one of the lifts; and she pushed her children in to complete their pleasure. Madame Marty and Valentine also entered the narrow cage, where they were closely packed; but the mirrors, the velvet seats, and the polished brasswork took up their attention so much that they arrived at the first storey without having felt the gentle ascent131 of the machine. Another pleasure was in store for them, in the first gallery. As they passed before the refreshment bar, Madame Bourdelais did not fail to gorge133 her little family with syrup25. It was a square room with a large marble counter; at the two ends there were silvered fountains from which flowed a small stream of water; whilst rows of bottles stood on small shelves behind. Three waiters were continually engaged wiping and filling the glasses. To restrain the thirsty crowd, they had been obliged to establish a system of turns, as at theatres and railway-stations, by erecting134 a barrier covered with velvet. The crush was terrific. Some people, losing all shame before these gratuitous135 treats, made themselves ill.
“Well! where are they?” exclaimed Madame Bourdelais when she extricated herself from the crowd, after having wiped the children's faces with her handkerchief.
But she caught sight of Madame Marty and Valentine at the further end of another gallery, a long way off. Both buried beneath a heap of petticoats, were still buying. They were conquered, the mother and daughter were rapidly disappearing in the fever of spending which was carrying them away. When she at last arrived in the reading-room Madame Bourdelais installed Madeleine, Edmond, and Lucien before the large table; then taking from one of the shelves some photographic albums she brought them to them. The ceiling of the long apartment was covered with gold; at the two extremities136, monumental chimney-pieces faced each other; some rather poor pictures, very richly framed, covered the walls; and between the columns before each of the arched bays opening into the various shops, were tall green plants in majolica vases. Quite a silent crowd surrounded the table, which was littered with reviews and newspapers, with here and there some ink-stands and boxes of stationery137. Ladies took off their gloves, and wrote their letters on the paper stamped with the name of the house, which they crossed out with a dash of the pen. A few men, lolling back in the armchairs, were reading the newspapers. But a great many people sat there doing nothing: husbands waiting for their wives, let loose in the various departments, discreet138 young women looking out for their lovers, old relations left there as in a cloak-room, to be taken away when time to leave. And this little society, comfortably installed, quietly reposed itself there, glancing through the open bays into the depths of the galleries and the halls, from which a distant murmur60 ascended139 above the grating of the pens and the rustling140 of the newspapers.
“What! you here!” said Madame Bourdelais. “I didn't know you.”
Near the children was a lady concealed141 behind the pages of a review. It was Madame Guibal She seemed annoyed at the meeting; but quickly recovering herself, related that she had come to sit down for a moment to escape the crush. And as Madame Bourdelais asked her if she was going to make any purchases, she replied with her languorous142 air, hiding behind her eyelashes the egoistical greediness of her looks:
“Oh! no. On the contrary, I have come to return some goods. Yes, some door-curtains which I don't like. But there is such a crowd that I am waiting to get near the department.”
She went on talking, saying how convenient this system of returns was; formerly she never bought anything, but now she sometimes allowed herself to be tempted. In fact, she returned four articles out of five, and was getting known at all the counters for her strange system of buying, and her eternal discontent which made her bring back the articles one by one, after having kept them several days. But, whilst speaking, she did not take her eyes off the doors of the reading-room; and she appeared greatly relieved when Madame Bourdelais rejoined her children, to explain the photographs to them. Almost at the same moment Monsieur de Boves and Paul de Vallagnosc came in. The count, who affected to be showing the young man through the new buildings, exchanged a rapid glance with Madame Guibal; and she then plunged143 into her review again, as if she had not seen him.
“Hullo, Paul!” suddenly exclaimed a voice behind these gentlemen.
It was Mouret, on his way round to give a look at the various departments. They shook hands, and he at once asked: “Has Madame de Boves done us the honour of coming?”
“Well, no,” replied the husband, “and she very much regrets it. She's not very well. Oh! nothing dangerous!” But suddenly he pretended to catch sight of Madame Guibal, and ran off, going up to her bareheaded, whilst the others merely bowed to her from a distance. She also pretended to be surprised. Paul smiled; he now understood the affair, and he related to Mouret in a low voice how De Boves, whom he had met in the Rue Richelieu, had tried to get away from him, and had finished by dragging him into The Ladies' Paradise, under the pretext144 that he must show him the new buildings. For the last year the lady had drawn145 from De Boves all the money and pleasure she could, never writing to him, making appointments with him in public places, churches, museums, and shops, to arrange their affairs.
“I fancy that at each meeting they change their hôtel,” murmured the young man. “Not long ago, he was on a tour of inspection146; he wrote to his wife every day from Blois, Libourne, and Tarbes; and yet I feel convinced I saw them going into a family boarding-house at Batignolles. But look at him, isn't he splendid before her with his military correctness! The old French gallantry, my dear fellow, the old French gallantry!”
“And your marriage?” asked Mouret Paul, without taking his eyes off the count, replied that they were still waiting for the death of the aunt. Then, with a triumphant147 air: “There, did you see him? He stooped down, and slipped an address into her hand. She's now accepting with the most virtuous148 air. She's a terrible woman, that delicate red-haired creature with her careless ways. Well! there are some fine things going on in your place!”
“Oh!” said Mouret, smiling, “these ladies are not in my house, they are at home here.”
He then began to joke. Love, like the swallows, always brought good luck to a house. No doubt he knew the girls who wandered about from counter to counter, the ladies who accidentally met a friend in the shop; but if they bought nothing, they filled up a place, and helped to crowd and warm the shop. Still continuing his gossip, he carried his old comrade off, and planted him on the threshold of the reading-room, opposite the grand central gallery, the successive halls of which ran along at their feet. Behind them, the reading-room still retained its quiet air, only disturbed by the scratching of the pens and the rustling of the newspapers. One old gentleman had gone to sleep over the Moniteur. Monsieur de Boves was looking at the pictures, with the evident intention of losing his future son-in-law in the crowd as soon as possible. And, alone, amid this calmness, Madame Bourdelais was amusing her children, talking very loud, as in a conquered place.
“You see they are quite at home,” said Mouret, who pointed149 with a broad gesture to the multitude of women with which the departments were overflowing.
Just at that moment Madame Desforges, after having nearly had her mantle carried away in the crowd, at last came in and crossed the first hall. Then, on reaching the principal gallery, she raised her eyes. It was like a railway span, surrounded by the balustrades of the two storeys, intersected by hanging staircases, crossed by flying bridges. The iron staircases developed bold curves, multiplying the landings; the iron bridges suspended in space, ran straight along, very high up; and all this iron formed, beneath the white light of the windows, an excessively light architecture, a complicated lace-work through which the daylight penetrated, the modern realisation of a dreamed-of palace, of a Babel-like heaping up of the storeys, enlarging the rooms, opening up glimpses on to other floors and into other rooms without end. In fact, iron reigned150 everywhere; the young architect had had the honesty and courage not to disguise it under a coating of paint imitating stone or wood. Down below, in order not to outshine the goods, the decoration was sober, with large regular spaces in neutral tints151; then as the metallic work ascended, the capitals of the columns became richer, the rivets152 formed ornaments153, the shoulder-pieces and corbels were loaded with sculptured work; up above, there was a mass of painting, green and red, amidst a prodigality154 of gold, floods of gold, heaps of gold, even to the glazed-work, the glass of which was enamelled and inlaid with gold. Under the covered galleries, the bare brick-work of the arches was also decorated in bright colours. Mosaics155 and earthenware156 also formed part of the decoration, enlivening the friezes157, lighting158 up with their fresh notes the severity of the whole; whilst the stairs, with their red velvet covered hand-rails, were edged with a band of curved polished iron, which shone like the steel of a piece of armour159.
Although she had already seen the new establishment
Madame Desforges stood still, struck by the ardent160 life which was this day animating161 the immense nave19. Below, around her, continued the eddying162 of the crowd, of which the double current of those entering and those going out made itself felt as far as the silk department; a crowd still very mixed in its elements, though the afternoon was bringing a greater number of ladies amongst the shopkeepers and house-wives; a great many women in mourning, with their flowing veils, and the inevitable163 wet nurses straying about, protecting their babies with their outstretched arms. And this sea of faces, these many-coloured hats, these bare heads, both dark and light, rolled from one end of the gallery to the other, confused and discoloured amidst the loud glare of the stuffs. Madame Desforges could see nothing but large price tickets bearing enormous figures everywhere, their white patches standing out on the bright printed cottons, the shining silks, and the sombre woollens. Piles of ribbons curtailed165 the heads, a wall of flannel166 threw out a promontory167; on all sides the mirrors carried the departments back into infinite space, reflecting the displays with portions of the public, faces reversed, and halves of shoulders and arms; whilst to the right and to the left the lateral168 galleries opened up other vistas169, the snowy background of the linen department, the speckled depth of the hosiery one, distant views illuminated by the rays of light from some glazed bay, and in which the crowd appeared nothing but a mass of human dust. Then, when Madame Desforges raised her eyes, she saw, along the staircases, on the flying bridges, around the balustrade of each storey, a continual humming ascent, an entire population in the air, travelling in the cuttings of the enormous ironwork construction, casting black shadows on the diffused170 light of the enamelled windows. Large gilded171 lustres hung from the ceiling; a decoration of rugs, embroidered silks, stuffs worked with gold, hung down, draping the balustrade with gorgeous banners; and, from one end to the other, there were clouds of lace, palpitations of muslin, trophies172 of silks, apotheoses173 of half-dressed dummies174; and right at the top, above all this confusion, the bedding department, suspended as it were, displayed little iron bedsteads with their mattresses175, hung with their white curtains, a sort of school dormitory sleeping amidst the stamping of the customers, rarer and rarer as the departments ascended.
“Does madame require a cheap pair of garters?” asked a salesman of Madame Desforges, seeing her standing still “All silk, twenty-nine sous.”
She did not deign53 to answer. Things were being offered around her more feverishly176 than ever. She wanted, however, to find out where she was. Albert Lhomme's pay-desk was on her left; he knew her by sight and ventured to give her an amiable177 smile, not in the least hurry in the midst of the heaps of bills by which he was besieged178; whilst, behind him, Joseph, struggling with the string-box, could not pack up the articles fast enough. She then saw where she was; the silk department must be in front of her. But it took her ten minutes to get there, the crowd was becoming so immense. Up in the air, at the end of their invisible strings, the red air-balls had become more numerous than ever; they now formed clouds of purple, gently blowing towards the doors, continuing to scatter179 themselves over Paris; and she had to bow her head beneath the flight of air-balls, when very young children held them, the string rolled round their little fingers.
“What! you have ventured here, madame?” exclaimed Bouthemont gaily180, as soon as he caught sight of Madame Desforges.
The manager of the silk department, introduced to her by Mouret himself, was now in the habit of sometimes calling on her at her five o'clock tea. She thought him common, but very amiable, of a fine sanguine181 temper, which surprised and amused her. Besides, about two days before he had openly related to her the affair between Mouret and Clara, without any calculation, out of stupidity, like a fellow who loves a joke; and, stung with jealousy182, concealing her wounded feelings beneath an appearance of disdain111, she had come to try and discover her rival, a young lady in the dress department he had merely said, refusing to name her.
“Do you require anything to-day?” he asked her.
“Of course, or else I should not have come. Have you any silk for morning gowns?”
She hoped to obtain the name of the young lady from him, for she was full of a desire to see her. He immediately called Favier; and resumed talking to her, whilst waiting for the salesman, who was just finishing serving a customer who happened to be “the pretty lady,” that beautiful blonde of whom the whole department occasionally spoke183, without knowing anything of her life or even her name. This time the pretty lady was in deep mourning. Ah, who had she lost—her husband or her father? Not her father, or she would have appeared more melancholy. What had they been saying? She was not a gay woman then; she had a real husband. Unless, however, she should be in mourning for her mother. For a few minutes, notwithstanding the press of business, the department exchanged these various speculations184.
“Make haste! it's intolerable!” cried Hutin to Favier, who had just returned from showing his customer to the pay-desk. “When that lady is here you never seem to finish. She doesn't care a fig164 for you!”
But Hutin threatened to report him to the directors if he did not show more respect for the customers. He was getting terrible, of a morose186 severity, since the department had conspired187 together to get him into Robineau's place. He even showed himself so intolerable, after the promises of good-fellowship, with which he had formerly warmed his colleagues, that the latter were now secretly supporting Favier against him.
“Now, then, no back answers,” replied Hutin sharply. “Monsieur Bouthemont wishes you to show some light designs in silks.”
In the middle of the department, an exhibition of summer silks lighted up the hall with an aurora-like brilliancy, like the rising of a star, in the most delicate tints possible: pale rose, tender yellow, limpid188 blue, the entire gamut of Iris189. There were silks of a cloudy fineness, surahs lighter190 than the down falling from the trees, satined pekins soft and supple191 as a Chinese virgin's skin. There were, moreover, Japanese pongees, Indian tussores and corahs, without counting the light French silks, the thousand stripes, the small checks, the flowered patterns, all the most fanciful designs, which made one think of ladies in furbelows, walking about, in the sweet May mornings, under the immense trees of some park.
“I'll take this, the Louis XIV. with figured roses,” said Madame Desforges at last.
And whilst Favier was measuring it, she made a last attempt with Bouthemont, who had remained near her.
“I'm going up to the ready-made department to see if there are any travelling cloaks. Is she fair, the young lady you were talking about?”
The manager, who felt rather anxious on finding her so persistent192, merely smiled. But, just at that moment, Denise went by. She had just passed on to Liénard, who had charge of the merinoes, Madame Boutarel, that provincial193 lady who came up to Paris twice a year, to scatter all over The Ladies' Paradise the money she scraped together out of her housekeeping. And as Favier was about to take up Madame Desforges's silk, Hutin, thinking to annoy him, interfered194.
“It's quite unnecessary, Mademoiselle Denise will have the kindness to conduct this lady.”
Denise, quite confused, at once took charge of the parcel and the debit-note. She could never meet this young man face to face without experiencing a feeling of shame, as if he reminded her of a former fault; and yet she had only sinned in her dreams.
“But, tell me,” said Madame Desforges, in a low tone, to Bouthemont, “isn't it this awkward girl? He has taken her back, then? But it is she, the heroine of the adventure!”
“Perhaps,” replied the head of department, still smiling, and fully196 decided46 not to tell the truth.
Madame Desforges then slowly ascended the staircase, preceded by Denise; but she had to stop every two or three steps to avoid being carried away by the descending197 crowd. In the living vibration198 of the whole building, the iron supports seemed to stagger beneath the weight, as if continually trembling from the breath of the crowd On each stair was a dummy199, strongly fixed200, displaying some garment: a costume, cloak, or dressing-gown; and it was like a double row of soldiers for some triumphal march-past, with the little wooden arm like the handle of a poniard, stuck into the red swan-skin, which gave a bloody201 appearance to the stump202 of a neck crowning the whole.
Madame Desforges was at last reaching the first storey, when a still greater surging of the crowd forced her to stop once more. She had now, beneath her, the departments on the ground-floor, with the press of customers she had just passed through. It was a new spectacle, a sea of heads fore-shortened, concealing the bodices, swarming203 with a busy agitation. The white price tickets now appeared but so many thin lines, the promontory of flannels204 cut through the gallery like a narrow wall; whilst the carpets and the embroidered silks which decked the balustrades hung at her feet like processional banners suspended from the gallery of a church. In the distance, she could perceive the angles of the lateral galleries, as from the top of a steeple one perceives the corners of the neighbouring streets, with the black spots of the passers-by moving about. But what surprised her above all, in the fatigue205 of her eyes blinded by the brilliant pell mell of colours, was, when she lowered her lids, to feel the crowd more than its dull noise like the rising tide, and the human warmth that it exhaled206. A fine dust rose from the floor, laden with the odour of woman, the odour of her linen and her bust207, of her skirts and her hair, an invading, penetrating208 odour, which seemed to be the incense209 of this temple raised for the worship of her body.
Meanwhile Mouret, still standing up before the reading-room with De Vallagnosc, was inhaling210 this odour, intoxicating211 himself with it, and repeating: “They are quite at home. I know some who spend the whole day here, eating cakes and writing their letters. There's only one thing more to do, and that is, to find them beds.”
This joke made Paul smile, he who, in the ennui212 of his pessimism213, continued to think the crowd stupid in thus running after a lot of gew-gaws. Whenever he came to give his old comrade a look up, he went away almost vexed to see him so full of life amidst his people of coquettes. Would not one of them, with shallow brain and empty heart, teach him one day the stupidity and uselessness of existence? That very day Octave seemed to lose some of his admirable equilibrium214; he who generally inspired his customers with a fever, with the tranquil215 grace of an operator, was as though seized by the passion with which the establishment was gradually burning. Since he had caught sight of Denise and Madame Desforges coming up the grand staircase, he had been talking louder, gesticulating against his will; and, whilst affecting not to turn his face towards them, he became more and more animated216 as he felt them drawing nearer. His face got redder, his eyes had a little of that rapture with which the eyes of his customers ultimately vacillated.
“You must be robbed fearfully,” murmured De Vallagnosc, who thought the crowd looked very criminal.
Mouret threw his arms out “My dear fellow, it's beyond all imagination.”
And, nervously217, delighted at having something to talk about, he gave a number of details, related cases, and classified the subjects. In the first place, there were the professional thieves; these women did the least harm of all, for the police knew every one of them. Then came the kleptomaniacs218, who stole from a perverse219 desire, a new sort of nervous affection which a mad doctor had classed, proving the results of the temptation provided by the big shops. In the last place must be counted the women in an interesting condition, whose robberies were of a special order. For instance, at the house of one of them, the superintendent220 of police had found two hundred and forty-eight pairs of pink gloves stolen from every shop in Paris.
“That's what makes the women have such funny eyes here, then,” murmured De Vallagnosc; “I've been watching them with their greedy, shameful221 looks, like mad creatures. A fine school for honesty!”
“Hang it!” replied Mouret, “though we make them quite at home, we can't let them take away the goods under their mantles222. And sometimes they are very respectable people. Last week we had the sister of a chemist, and the wife of a councillor. We try and settle these matters.”
He stopped to point out Jouve, the inspector, who was just then looking sharp after a woman in the family way, down below at the ribbon counter. This woman, whose enormous belly223 suffered a great deal from the pushing of the crowd, was accompanied by a friend, whose mission appeared to be to defend her against the heavy shocks, and each time she stopped in a department, Jouve did not take his eyes off her, whilst her friend near her ransacked224 the card-board boxes at her ease.
“Oh! he'll catch her!” resumed Mouret; “he knows all their tricks.”
But his voice trembled, he laughed in an awkward manner. Denise and Henriette, whom he had ceased to watch, were at last passing behind him, after having had a great deal of trouble to get out of the crowd. He turned round suddenly, and bowed to his customer with the discreet air of a friend who does not wish to compromise a woman by stopping her in the middle of a crowd of people. But the latter, on the alert, had at once perceived the look with which he had first enveloped225 Denise. It must be this girl, this was the rival she had had the curiosity to come and see.
In the ready-made department, the young ladies were losing their heads. Two of them had fallen ill, and Madame Frédéric, the second-hand226, had quietly given notice the previous day, and gone to the cashier's office to take her money, leaving The Ladies' Paradise all in a minute, as The Ladies' Paradise itself discharged its employees. Ever since the morning, in spite of the feverish rush of business, every one had been talking of this adventure. Clara, maintained in the department by Mouret's caprice, thought it grand. Marguerite related how exasperated227 Bourdoncle was; whilst Madame Aurélie, greatly vexed, declared that Madame Frédéric ought at least to have informed her, for such hypocrisy228 had never before been heard of.
Although the latter had never confided229 in any one, she was suspected of having given up drapery business to marry the proprietor230 of some of the baths in the neighbourhood of the Halles.
“It's a travelling cloak that madame desires, I believe?” asked Denise of Madame Desforges, after having offered her a chair.
The new decorations of the department were of a rich severity: high carved oak cupboards, mirrors filling the whole space of the panels, and a red Wilton carpet, which stifled the continued movement of the customers. Whilst Denise was gone for the cloaks, Madame Desforges, who was looking round, perceived herself in a glass; and she continued contemplating233 herself. She must be getting old to be cast aside for the first-comer. The glass reflected the entire department with its commotion234, but she only beheld235 her own pale face; she did not hear Clara behind her relating to Marguerite instances of Madame Frederic's mysterious ways, the manner in which she went out of her way night and morning to go through the Passage Choiseul, in order to make believe that she perhaps lived over the water.
“Here are our latest designs,” said Denise. “We have them in several colours.”
She laid out four or five cloaks. Madame Desforges looked at them with a scornful air, and became harsher at each fresh one she examined. Why those frillings which made the garment look so scanty236? and the other one, square across the shoulders, one would have thought it had been cut out with a hatchet237. Though it was for travelling she could not dress like a sentry-box.
“Show me something else, mademoiselle.”
Denise unfolded and folded the garments without the slightest sign of ill temper. And it was just this calm, serene238 patience which exasperated Madame Desforges still further. Her looks continually returned to the glass in front of her. Now that she saw herself there, close to Denise, she made a comparison. Was it possible that he should prefer this insignificant239 creature to herself? She now remembered that this was the girl she had formerly seen making her début with such a silly figure, awkward as a peasant girl just arrived from her village. No doubt she looked better now, stiff and correct in her silk dress. But how puny240, how common-place!
“I will show you some other models, madame,” said Denise, quietly.
When she returned, the scene began again. Then it was the cloth that was heavy and no good whatever. Madame Desforges turned round, raised her voice, endeavouring to attract Madame Aurélie's attention, in the hope of getting the young girl a scolding. But Denise, since her return, had gradually conquered the department, and now felt quite at home in it; the first-hand had even recognised in her some rare and valuable qualities as a saleswoman—an obstinate241 sweetness, a smiling conviction. Therefore Madame Aurélie simply shrugged her shoulders, taking care not to interfere195.
“Would you kindly242 tell me the kind of garment you require, madame?” asked Denise, once more, with her polite persistence243, which nothing could discourage.
“But you've got nothing!” exclaimed Madame Desforges.
She stopped, surprised to feel a hand laid on her shoulder. It was Madame Marty, carried right through the establishment by her fever for spending. Her purchases had increased to such an extent, since the cravats, the embroidered gloves, and the red parasol, that the last salesman had just decided to place the whole on a chair, for it would have broken his arm; and he walked in front of her, drawing the chair along, on which was heaped up a pile of petticoats, napkins, curtains, a lamp, and three straw hats.
“Ah!” said she, “you are buying a travelling cloak.”
“Oh! dear, no,” replied Madame Desforges; “they are frightful.”
But Madame Marty had just noticed a striped cloak which she rather liked. Her daughter Valentine was already examining it. So Denise called Marguerite to clear the article out of the department, it being a model of the previous year, and the latter, at a glance from her comrade, presented it as an exceptional bargain. When she had sworn that they had lowered the price twice, that from a hundred and fifty francs, they had reduced it to a hundred and thirty, and that it was now at a hundred and ten, Madame Marty could not withstand the temptation of its cheapness. She bought it, and the salesman who accompanied her left the chair and the parcel, with the debit-notes attached to the goods.
Meanwhile, behind the ladies' backs, and amidst the jostlings of the sale, the gossip of the department about Madame Frédéric still went on.
“Really! she had some one?” asked a little saleswoman, fresh in the department.
“The bath-man of course!” replied Clara. “Mustn't trust those sly, quiet widows.”
Then while Marguerite was debiting244, Madam Marty turned her head and desired Clara by a slight movement of the eyebrows245, she whispered to Madame Desforges: “Monsieur Mouret's caprice, you know!”
The other, surprised, looked at Clara; then, turning her eyes towards Denise, replied: “But it isn't the tall one; the little one!”
And as Madame Marty could not be sure which, Madame Desforges resumed aloud, with the scorn of a lady for chambermaids: “Perhaps the tall one and the little one; all those who like!”
Denise had heard everything. She turned pale, and raised her big, pure eyes on this lady who was thus wounding her, and whom she did not know. No doubt it was the lady of whom they had spoken to her, the lady whom the governor saw outside. In the look that was exchanged between them, Denise displayed such a melancholy dignity, such a frank innocence246, that Henriette felt quite awkward.
“As you have nothing presentable to show me here, conduct me to the dress and costume department,” said she, abruptly247.
“I'll go with you as well,” exclaimed Madame Marty, “I wanted to see a costume for Valentine.”
Marguerite took the chair by its back, and dragged it along on its hind2 feet, that were getting worn by this species of cartage. Denise only carried a few yards of silk, bought by Madame Desforges. It was quite a journey, now that the robes and costumes were on the second floor, at the other end of the establishment.
And the long journey commenced along the crowded galleries. Marguerite walked in front, drawing the chair along, like a little carriage, slowly opening herself a passage. As soon as she reached the under-linen department, Madame Desforges began to complain: wasn't it ridiculous, a shop where one was obliged to walk a couple of leagues to find the least thing! Madame Marty also said she was tired to death, yet she did not the less enjoy this fatigue, this slow exhaustion249 of her strength, amidst the inexhaustible treasures displayed on every side. Mouret's idea, full of genius, seized upon her, stopping her at each department. She made a first halt before the trousseaux, tempted by some chemises that Pauline sold her; and Marguerite found herself relieved from the burden of the chair, which Pauline had to take, with the debit-notes. Madame Desforges could have gone on her road, and thus have liberated250 Denise quicker, but she seemed happy to feel her behind her, motionless and patient, whilst she was lingering there, advising her friend. In the baby-linen department the ladies went into ecstasies251, without buying anything. Then Madame Marty's weakness commenced anew; she succumbed252 successively before a black silk corset, a pair of fur cuffs, sold at a reduction on account of the lateness of the season, and some Russian lace much in vogue253 at that time for trimming table-linen. All these things were heaped up on the chair, the parcels still increased, making the chair creak; and the salesmen who succeeded each other, found it more and more difficult to drag along as the load became heavier.
“This way, madame,” said Denise without a murmur, after each halt.
“But it's absurd!” exclaimed Madame Desforges. “We shall never get there. Why not have put the dresses and costumes near the ready-made department? It is a jumble254!”
Madame Marty, whose eyes were sparkling, intoxicated255 by this succession of riches dancing before her, repeated in a half whisper:
“Oh, dear! What will my husband say? You are right, there is no order in this place. You lose yourself, and commit all sorts of follies256.”
On the great central landing, the chair, could barely pass. Mouret had just blocked the space with a lot of fancy goods, drinking-cups mounted on gilded zinc257, trashy dressing-cases and liqueur stands, being of opinion that the crowd was not sufficiently258 great, and that circulation was too easy. He had authorised one of his shopmen to exhibit there on a small table Chinese and Japanese curiosities, knick-knacks at a low price, which the customers eagerly snatched up. It was an unexpected success, and he already thought of extending this business. Whilst two messengers carried the chair up to the second storey, Madame Marty bought six ivory studs, some silk mice, and an enamelled match-box.
On the second floor the journey was continued. Denise, who had been showing customers about in this way since the morning, was dropping with fatigue; but she still continued correct, amiable, and polite. She had to wait for the ladies again in the furnishing materials department, where a ravishing cretonne had tempted Madame Marty. Then, in the furniture department, it was a work-table that took her fancy. Her hands trembled, she jokingly entreated259 Madame Desforges to prevent her spending any more, when a meeting with Madame Guibal furnished her with an excuse. It was in the carpet department, where the latter had gone to return a lot of Oriental door-curtains bought by her five days before. And she was standing, talking to the salesman, a brawny260 fellow, who, with his sinewy261 arms handled from morning to night loads heavy enough to kill a bullock. Naturally he was quite astounded262 at this “return,” which deprived him of his commission. He did his best to embarrass his customer, suspecting some queer adventure, no doubt a ball given with these curtains, bought at The Ladies' Paradise, and then returned, to avoid hiring at an upholsterer's: he knew this was frequently done by the needy263 portion of society. In short, she must have some reason for returning them; if she did not like the designs or the colours, he would show her others, he had a most complete assortment264. To all these insinuations Madame Guibal replied in the quietest, most unconcerned manner possible, with a queenly assurance that the curtains did not suit her, without deigning265 to add any explanation. She refused to look at any others, and he was obliged to give way, for the salesmen had orders to take back the goods, even if they saw they had been used.
As the three ladies went off together, and Madame Marty referred with remorse266 to the work-table for which she had no earthly need, Madame Guibal said in her calm voice: “Well! you can return it. You saw it was quite easy. Let them send it home. You can put it in your drawing-room, keep it for a time, then if you don't like it, return it!”
“Ah! that's a good idea!” exclaimed Madame Marty. “If my husband makes too much fuss, I'll send everything back.” This was for her the supreme267 excuse, she calculated no longer, but went on buying, with the secret wish to keep everything, for she was not a woman to give anything back.
At last they arrived in the dress and costume department. But as Denise was about to deliver to another young lady the silk bought by Madame Desforges, the latter seemed to change her mind, and declared that she would decidedly take one of the travelling cloaks, the light grey one with the hood231; and Denise had to wait complacently268 to bring her back to the ready-made department. The young girl felt herself being treated like a servant by this imperious, whimsical customer; but she had sworn to herself to do her duty, and retained her calm attitude, notwithstanding the rising of her heart and the shock to her pride. Madame Desforges bought nothing in the dress and costume department.
“Oh! mamma,” said Valentine, “if that little costume should fit me!”
In a low tone, Madame Guibal was explaining her tactics to Madame Marty. When she saw a dress she liked in a shop, she had it sent home, took the pattern of it, and then sent it back. And Madame Marty bought the costume for her daughter remarking: “A good idea! You are very practical, my dear madame.”
They had been obliged to abandon the chair. It had been left in distress269, in the furniture department, with the work-table. The weight was too much, the hind legs threatened to break off; and it was arranged that all the purchases should be centralised at one pay-desk, and from there sent down to the delivery department. The ladies, still accompanied by Denise, then began wandering all about the establishment, making a second appearance in nearly every department. They seemed to take up all the space on the stairs and in the galleries. Every moment some fresh meeting brought them to a standstill. Thus, near the reading-room, they once more came across Madame Bourdelais and her three children. The youngsters were loaded with parcels: Madeline had a dress for herself, Edmond was carrying a collection of little shoes, whilst the youngest, Lucien, was wearing a new cap.
“You as well!” said Madame Desforges, laughingly, to her old school-fellow.
“Pray, don't speak of it!” cried out Madame Bourdelais. “I'm furious. They get hold of us by the little ones now! You know what a little I spend on myself! But how can you expect me to resist the voices of these young children, who want everything? I had come just to show them round, and here am I plundering the whole establishment!”
Mouret, who happened to be there still, with De Vallagnosc and Monsieur de Boves, was listening to her with a smile. She observed it, and gaily complained, with a certain amount of real irritation270, of these traps laid for a mother's tenderness; the idea that she had just yielded to the fevers of advertising raised her indignation, and he, still smiling, bowed, fully enjoying this triumph. Monsieur de Boves had manoeuvred so as to get near Madame Guibal, whom he ultimately followed, trying for the second time to lose De Vallagnosc; but the latter, tired of the crush, hastened to rejoin him. Denise was again brought to a standstill, obliged to wait for the ladies. She turned her back, and Mouret himself affected not to see her. Madame Desforges, with the delicate scent132 of a jealous woman, had no further doubt. Whilst he was complimenting her and walking beside her, like a gallant host, she was deep in thought, asking herself how she could convince him of his treason.
Meanwhile Monsieur de Boves and De Vallagnosc, who were on in front with Madame Guibal, had reached the lace department, a luxurious271 room, near the ready-made department, surrounded with stocks of carved oak drawers, which were constantly being opened and shut. Around the columns, covered with red velvet, were spirals of white lace; and from one end of the department to the other, hung lengths of Maltese; whilst on the counters there were quantities of large cards, wound round with Valenciennes, Malines, and hand-made point At the further end two ladies were seated before a mauve silk skirt, on which Deloche was placing pieces of Chantilly, the ladies looking on silently, without making up their minds.
“Hallo!” said De Vallagnosc, quite surprised, “you said Madame de Boves was unwell. But there she is standing over there near that counter, with Mademoiselle Blanche.”
The count could not help starting back, and casting a side glance at Madame Guibal.
“Dear me! so she is,” said he.
It was very warm in this room. The customers, half stifled, had pale faces with flaming eyes. It seemed as if all the seductions of the shop had converged272 into this supreme temptation, that it was the secluded273 alcove274 where the customers were doomed275 to fall, the corner of perdition where the strongest must succumb. Hands were plunged into the overflowing heaps, retaining an intoxicating trembling from the contact.
“I fancy those ladies are ruining you,” resumed De Vallagnosc, amused at the meeting.
Monsieur de Boves assumed the look of a husband perfectly sure of his wife's discretion, from the simple fact that he did not give her a sou to spend. The latter, after having wandered through all the departments with her daughter, without buying anything, had just stranded276 in the lace department in a rage of unsated desire. Half dead with fatigue, she was leaning up against the counter. She dived about in a heap of lace, her hands became soft, a warmth penetrated as far as her shoulders. Then suddenly, just as her daughter turned her head and the salesman went away, she was thinking of slipping a piece of point d'Alençon under her mantle. But she shuddered277, and dropped it, on hearing De Vallagnosc's voice saying gaily:
“Ah! we've caught you, madame.”
For several seconds she stood there speechless and pale. Then she explained that, feeling much better, she thought she would take a stroll. And on noticing that her husband was with Madame Guibal, she quite recovered herself, and looked at them with such a dignified278 air that the other lady felt obliged to say:
“I was with Madame Desforges when these gentlemen met us.”
The other ladies came up just at that moment, accompanied by Mouret, who again detained them to point out Jouve the inspector, who was still following the woman in the family way and her lady friend. It was very curious, they could not form any idea of the number of thieves that were arrested in the lace department. Madame de Boves, who was listening, fancied herself between two gendarmes279, with her forty-six years, her luxury, and her husband's fine position; but yet she felt no remorse, thinking she ought to have slipped the lace up her sleeve. Jouve, however, had just decided to lay hold of the woman in the family way, despairing of catching280 her in the act, but fully suspecting her of having filled her pockets, with a sleight281 of hand which had escaped him. But when he had taken her aside and searched her, he was wild to find nothing on her—not a cravat, not a button. Her friend had disappeared. All at once he understood: the woman in the family way was only there as a blind; it was the friend who did the trick.
This affair amused the ladies. Mouret, rather vexed, merely said: “Old Jouve has been floored this time. He'll have his revenge.”
“Oh!” replied De Vallognosc, “I don't think he's equal to it. Besides, why do you display such a quantity of goods? It serves you right, if you are robbed. You ought not to tempt52 these poor, defenceless women so.”
This was the last word, which sounded like the sharp note of the day, in the growing fever of the establishment. The ladies then separated, crossing the crowded departments for the last time. It was four o'clock, the rays of the setting sun were darting282 through the large windows in the front, lighting up crossways the glazed roofs of the halls, and in this red, fiery light sprung up, like a golden vapour, the thick dust raised by the circulation of the crowd. A broad ray ran along the grand central gallery, showing up on a flaming ground the staircases, the flying bridges, all the network of suspended iron. The mosaics and the terra-cotta of the friezes sparkled, the green andred paint were lighted up by the fire of the masses of gold scattered283 everywhere. It was like a red-hot furnace, in which the displays were now burning, the palaces of gloves and cravats, the clusters of ribbons and lace, the lofty piles of linen and calico, the diapered parterres in which flourished the light silks and foulards. The exhibition of parasols, with their shield-like roundness, threw out a sort of metallic reflection. In the distance were a lot of lost counters, sparkling, swarming with a moving crowd, ablaze284 with sunshine.
And at this last moment, amidst this over-warmed air, the women reigned supreme. They had taken the whole place by storm, camping there as in a conquered country, like an invading horde285 installed amongst the overhauling286 of the goods. The salesmen, deafened287, knocked up, were now nothing but their slaves, of whom they disposed with a sovereign's tyranny. Fat women elbowed their way through the crowd. The thinnest ones took up a lot of space, and became quite arrogant288. They were all there, with heads high and abrupt248 gestures, quite at home, without the slightest politeness one for the other, using the house as much as they could, even carrying away the dust from the walls. Madame Bourdelais, desirous of making up for her expenditure289, had again taken her children to the refreshment bar; the crowd was now pushing about there in a furious way, even the mothers were gorging290 themselves with Malaga; they had drunk since the opening eighty quarts of syrup and seventy bottles of wine. After having bought her travelling cloak, Madame Desforges had managed to secure some pictures at the pay-desk; and she went away scheming to get Denise into her house, where she could humiliate291 her before Mouret himself, so as to see their faces and arrive at a conclusion. Whilst Monsieur de Boves succeeded in losing himself in the crowd and disappearing with Madame Guibal, Madame de Boves, followed by Blanche and De Vallagnosc, had had the fancy to ask for a red air-ball, although she had bought nothing. It was always something, she would not go away empty-handed, she would make a friend of her doorkeeper's little girl with it. At the distributing counter they were just commencing the fortieth thousand: forty thousand red air-balls which had taken flight in the warm air of the shop, quite a cloud of red air-balls which were now floating from one end of Paris to the other, bearing upwards292 to the sky the name of The Ladies' Paradise!
Five o'clock struck. Of all the ladies, Madame Marty and her daughter were the only ones to remain, in the final crisis of the sale. She could not tear herself away, although ready to drop with fatigue, retained by an attraction so strong that she was continually retracing293 her steps, though wanting nothing, wandering about the departments out of a curiosity that knew no bounds. It was the moment in which the crowd, goaded294 on by the advertisements, completely lost itself; the sixty thousand francs paid to the newspapers, the ten thousand bills posted on the walls, the two hundred thousand catalogues distributed all over the world, after having emptied their purses, left in the women's minds the shock of their intoxication295; and the customers still remained, shaken by Mouret's other inventions, the reduction of prices, the “returns,” the endless gallantries. Madame Marty lingered before the various stalls, amidst the hoarse296 cries of the salesmen, the chinking of the gold at the pay-desks, and the rolling of the parcels down into the basement; she again traversed the ground floor, the linen, the silk, the glove, and the woollen departments; then she went upstairs again, abandoning herself to the metallic vibrations297 of the suspended staircases and the flying-bridges, returning to the ready-made, the under-linen, and the lace departments; she even ascended to the second floor, into the heights of the bedding and furniture department; and everywhere the employees, Hutin and Favier, Mignot and Liénard, Deloche, Pauline and Denise, nearly dead with fatigue, were making a last effort, snatching victories from the expiring fever of the customers. This fever had gradually increased since the morning, like the intoxication arising from the tumbling of the stuffs. The crowd shone forth under the fiery glare of the five o'clock sun. Madame Marty's face was now animated and nervous, like that of an infant after drinking pure wine. Arrived with clear eyes and fresh skin from the cold of the street, she had slowly burnt her sight and complexion298, at the spectacle of this luxury, of these violent colours, the continued gallop299 of which irritated her passion. When she at last went away, after saying she would pay at home, terrified by the amount of her bill, her features were drawn up, her eyes were like those of a sick person. She was obliged to fight her way through the crowd at the door, where the people were almost killing each other, amidst the struggle for the bargains. Then, when she got into the street, and found her daughter, whom she had lost for a moment, the fresh air made her shiver, she stood there frightened in the disorder of this neurosis of the immense establishments.
In the evening, as Denise was returning from dinner, a messenger called her: “You are wanted at the director's office, mademoiselle.”
She had forgotten the order Mouret had given her in the morning, to go to his office after the sale. He was standing waiting for her. On going in she did not close the door, which remained, wide open.
“We are very pleased with you, mademoiselle,” said he, “and we have thought of proving our satisfaction. You know in what a shameful manner Madame Frédéric has left us. From to-morrow you will take her place as second-hand.”
Denise listened to him immovable with surprise. She murmured in a trembling voice: “But, sir, there are saleswomen in the department who are much my seniors.”
“What does that matter?” resumed he. “You are the most capable, the most trustworthy. I choose you; it's quite natural. Are you not satisfied?”
She blushed, feeling a delicious happiness and embarrassment300, in which her first fright vanished. Why had she at once thought of the suppositions with which this unhoped for favour would be received? And she stood filled with her confusion, notwithstanding her sudden burst of gratitude. He was looking at her with a smile, in her simple silk dress, without a single piece of jewellery, nothing but the luxury of her royal, blonde head of hair. She had become more refined, her skin was whiter, her manner delicate and grave. Her former puny insignificance301 was developing into a charm of a penetrating discretion.
But she was cut short by the appearance of Lhomme in the doorway. In his hand he was holding a large leather bag, and with his mutilated arm he was pressing an enormous notecase to his chest; whilst, behind him, his son Albert was carrying a load of bags, which were weighing him down.
“Five hundred and eighty-seven thousand two hundred and ten francs thirty centimes!” cried out the cashier, whose flabby, used-up face seemed to be lighted up with a ray of sunshine, in the reflection of such a sum.
It was the day's receipts, the highest The Ladies' Paradise had ever done. In the distance, in the depths of the shop that Lhomme had just passed through slowly, with the heavy gait of an overloaded303 beast of burden, one could hear the uproar, the ripple304 of surprise and joy, left by this colossal sum which passed.
“But it's superb!” said Mouret, enchanted305. “My good Lhomme, put it down there, and take a rest, for you look quite done up. I'll have this money taken to the central cashier's office. Yes, yes, put it all on my table, I want to see the heap.”
He was full of a childish gaiety. The cashier and his son laid down their burdens. The leather bag gave out a clear, golden ring, two of the other bags bursting let out a stream of silver and copper306, whilst from the note-case peeped forth corners of bank notes. One end of the large table was entirely covered; it was like the tumbling of a fortune picked up in ten hours.
When Lhomme and Albert had retired, mopping their faces, Mouret remained for a moment motionless, lost, his eyes fixed on the money. Then, raising his head, he perceived Denise, who had drawn back. He began to smile again, forced her to come forward, and finished by saying he would give her all she could take in her hand; and there was a sort of love-bargain beneath his playfulness.
“Look! out of the bag. I bet it would be less than a thousand francs, your hand is so small!”
But she drew back again. He loved her, then? Suddenly she understood, she felt the growing flame of desire with which he had enveloped her since, her return to the shop. What overcame her more than anything else was to feel her heart beating violently. Why did he wound her with all this money, when she was overflowing with gratitude, and he could have done anything with her by a friendly word? He was coming closer to her, continuing to joke, when, to his great annoyance307, Bourdoncle appeared, under the pretence308 of informing him of the number of entries—the enormous number of seventy thousand customers had entered The Ladies' Paradise that day. And she hastened away, after having again thanked him.
点击收听单词发音
1 spun | |
v.纺,杜撰,急转身 | |
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2 hind | |
adj.后面的,后部的 | |
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3 agitation | |
n.搅动;搅拌;鼓动,煽动 | |
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4 fermenting | |
v.(使)发酵( ferment的现在分词 );(使)激动;骚动;骚扰 | |
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5 rue | |
n.懊悔,芸香,后悔;v.后悔,悲伤,懊悔 | |
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6 surmounted | |
战胜( surmount的过去式和过去分词 ); 克服(困难); 居于…之上; 在…顶上 | |
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7 awning | |
n.遮阳篷;雨篷 | |
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8 gilding | |
n.贴金箔,镀金 | |
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9 colossal | |
adj.异常的,庞大的 | |
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10 bazaar | |
n.集市,商店集中区 | |
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11 glazed | |
adj.光滑的,像玻璃的;上过釉的;呆滞无神的v.装玻璃( glaze的过去式);上釉于,上光;(目光)变得呆滞无神 | |
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12 cravat | |
n.领巾,领结;v.使穿有领结的服装,使结领结 | |
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13 linen | |
n.亚麻布,亚麻线,亚麻制品;adj.亚麻布制的,亚麻的 | |
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14 cumbersome | |
adj.笨重的,不便携带的 | |
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15 relegated | |
v.使降级( relegate的过去式和过去分词 );使降职;转移;把…归类 | |
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16 sonorous | |
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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17 metallic | |
adj.金属的;金属制的;含金属的;产金属的;像金属的 | |
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18 naves | |
n.教堂正厅( nave的名词复数 );本堂;中央部;车轮的中心部 | |
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19 nave | |
n.教堂的中部;本堂 | |
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20 intoxicate | |
vt.使喝醉,使陶醉,使欣喜若狂 | |
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21 gallant | |
adj.英勇的,豪侠的;(向女人)献殷勤的 | |
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22 velvet | |
n.丝绒,天鹅绒;adj.丝绒制的,柔软的 | |
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23 gratis | |
adj.免费的 | |
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24 refreshment | |
n.恢复,精神爽快,提神之事物;(复数)refreshments:点心,茶点 | |
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25 syrup | |
n.糖浆,糖水 | |
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26 syrups | |
n.糖浆,糖汁( syrup的名词复数 );糖浆类药品 | |
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27 advertising | |
n.广告业;广告活动 a.广告的;广告业务的 | |
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28 forth | |
adv.向前;向外,往外 | |
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29 illustrated | |
adj. 有插图的,列举的 动词illustrate的过去式和过去分词 | |
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30 overflowing | |
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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31 overflow | |
v.(使)外溢,(使)溢出;溢出,流出,漫出 | |
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32 renewal | |
adj.(契约)延期,续订,更新,复活,重来 | |
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33 penetrated | |
adj. 击穿的,鞭辟入里的 动词penetrate的过去式和过去分词形式 | |
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34 extravagant | |
adj.奢侈的;过分的;(言行等)放肆的 | |
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35 folly | |
n.愚笨,愚蠢,蠢事,蠢行,傻话 | |
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36 deserted | |
adj.荒芜的,荒废的,无人的,被遗弃的 | |
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37 doorway | |
n.门口,(喻)入门;门路,途径 | |
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38 crammed | |
adj.塞满的,挤满的;大口地吃;快速贪婪地吃v.把…塞满;填入;临时抱佛脚( cram的过去式) | |
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39 concealing | |
v.隐藏,隐瞒,遮住( conceal的现在分词 ) | |
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40 uproar | |
n.骚动,喧嚣,鼎沸 | |
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41 prey | |
n.被掠食者,牺牲者,掠食;v.捕食,掠夺,折磨 | |
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42 perfectly | |
adv.完美地,无可非议地,彻底地 | |
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43 formerly | |
adv.从前,以前 | |
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44 frightful | |
adj.可怕的;讨厌的 | |
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45 disorder | |
n.紊乱,混乱;骚动,骚乱;疾病,失调 | |
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46 decided | |
adj.决定了的,坚决的;明显的,明确的 | |
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47 consternation | |
n.大为吃惊,惊骇 | |
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48 shrugged | |
vt.耸肩(shrug的过去式与过去分词形式) | |
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49 mantle | |
n.斗篷,覆罩之物,罩子;v.罩住,覆盖,脸红 | |
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50 retired | |
adj.隐退的,退休的,退役的 | |
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51 thoroughly | |
adv.完全地,彻底地,十足地 | |
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52 tempt | |
vt.引诱,勾引,吸引,引起…的兴趣 | |
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53 deign | |
v. 屈尊, 惠允 ( 做某事) | |
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54 deigned | |
v.屈尊,俯就( deign的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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55 disperses | |
v.(使)分散( disperse的第三人称单数 );疏散;驱散;散布 | |
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56 secondly | |
adv.第二,其次 | |
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57 lining | |
n.衬里,衬料 | |
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58 succumb | |
v.屈服,屈从;死 | |
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59 astonishment | |
n.惊奇,惊异 | |
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60 murmur | |
n.低语,低声的怨言;v.低语,低声而言 | |
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61 sensational | |
adj.使人感动的,非常好的,轰动的,耸人听闻的 | |
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62 specially | |
adv.特定地;特殊地;明确地 | |
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63 effacing | |
谦逊的 | |
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64 amiability | |
n.和蔼可亲的,亲切的,友善的 | |
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65 melancholy | |
n.忧郁,愁思;adj.令人感伤(沮丧)的,忧郁的 | |
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66 inexplicable | |
adj.无法解释的,难理解的 | |
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67 gratitude | |
adj.感激,感谢 | |
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68 agitated | |
adj.被鼓动的,不安的 | |
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69 indifference | |
n.不感兴趣,不关心,冷淡,不在乎 | |
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70 brutal | |
adj.残忍的,野蛮的,不讲理的 | |
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71 redoubtable | |
adj.可敬的;可怕的 | |
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72 adversary | |
adj.敌手,对手 | |
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73 renowned | |
adj.著名的,有名望的,声誉鹊起的 | |
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74 affected | |
adj.不自然的,假装的 | |
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75 housekeepers | |
n.(女)管家( housekeeper的名词复数 ) | |
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76 swarmed | |
密集( swarm的过去式和过去分词 ); 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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77 feverish | |
adj.发烧的,狂热的,兴奋的 | |
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78 cravats | |
n.(系在衬衫衣领里面的)男式围巾( cravat的名词复数 ) | |
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79 voracious | |
adj.狼吞虎咽的,贪婪的 | |
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80 standing | |
n.持续,地位;adj.永久的,不动的,直立的,不流动的 | |
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81 stifled | |
(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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82 accosted | |
v.走过去跟…讲话( accost的过去式和过去分词 );跟…搭讪;(乞丐等)上前向…乞讨;(妓女等)勾搭 | |
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83 killing | |
n.巨额利润;突然赚大钱,发大财 | |
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84 irresistible | |
adj.非常诱人的,无法拒绝的,无法抗拒的 | |
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85 fugitive | |
adj.逃亡的,易逝的;n.逃犯,逃亡者 | |
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86 bellies | |
n.肚子( belly的名词复数 );腹部;(物体的)圆形或凸起部份;腹部…形的 | |
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87 incited | |
刺激,激励,煽动( incite的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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88 bosoms | |
胸部( bosom的名词复数 ); 胸怀; 女衣胸部(或胸襟); 和爱护自己的人在一起的情形 | |
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89 reposed | |
v.将(手臂等)靠在某人(某物)上( repose的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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90 extricated | |
v.使摆脱困难,脱身( extricate的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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91 laden | |
adj.装满了的;充满了的;负了重担的;苦恼的 | |
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92 varnished | |
浸渍过的,涂漆的 | |
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93 descended | |
a.为...后裔的,出身于...的 | |
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94 conflagration | |
n.建筑物或森林大火 | |
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95 rapture | |
n.狂喜;全神贯注;着迷;v.使狂喜 | |
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96 devoted | |
adj.忠诚的,忠实的,热心的,献身于...的 | |
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97 cuffs | |
n.袖口( cuff的名词复数 )v.掌打,拳打( cuff的第三人称单数 ) | |
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98 insipid | |
adj.无味的,枯燥乏味的,单调的 | |
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99 strings | |
n.弦 | |
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100 fiery | |
adj.燃烧着的,火红的;暴躁的;激烈的 | |
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101 illuminated | |
adj.被照明的;受启迪的 | |
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102 eddy | |
n.漩涡,涡流 | |
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103 inspector | |
n.检查员,监察员,视察员 | |
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104 attentive | |
adj.注意的,专心的;关心(别人)的,殷勤的 | |
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105 lookout | |
n.注意,前途,瞭望台 | |
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106 plundering | |
掠夺,抢劫( plunder的现在分词 ) | |
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107 discretion | |
n.谨慎;随意处理 | |
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108 embroidered | |
adj.绣花的 | |
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109 tempted | |
v.怂恿(某人)干不正当的事;冒…的险(tempt的过去分词) | |
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110 disdained | |
鄙视( disdain的过去式和过去分词 ); 不屑于做,不愿意做 | |
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111 disdain | |
n.鄙视,轻视;v.轻视,鄙视,不屑 | |
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112 detested | |
v.憎恶,嫌恶,痛恨( detest的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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113 quackery | |
n.庸医的医术,骗子的行为 | |
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114 caress | |
vt./n.爱抚,抚摸 | |
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115 enjoyment | |
n.乐趣;享有;享用 | |
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116 plunging | |
adj.跳进的,突进的v.颠簸( plunge的现在分词 );暴跌;骤降;突降 | |
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117 diffuse | |
v.扩散;传播;adj.冗长的;四散的,弥漫的 | |
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118 gamut | |
n.全音阶,(一领域的)全部知识 | |
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119 protruding | |
v.(使某物)伸出,(使某物)突出( protrude的现在分词 );凸 | |
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120 scarlet | |
n.深红色,绯红色,红衣;adj.绯红色的 | |
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121 petunia | |
n.矮牵牛花 | |
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122 chrysanthemum | |
n.菊,菊花 | |
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123 brass | |
n.黄铜;黄铜器,铜管乐器 | |
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124 cordon | |
n.警戒线,哨兵线 | |
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125 entirely | |
ad.全部地,完整地;完全地,彻底地 | |
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126 wares | |
n. 货物, 商品 | |
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127 softening | |
变软,软化 | |
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128 impatience | |
n.不耐烦,急躁 | |
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129 amicably | |
adv.友善地 | |
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130 malice | |
n.恶意,怨恨,蓄意;[律]预谋 | |
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131 ascent | |
n.(声望或地位)提高;上升,升高;登高 | |
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132 scent | |
n.气味,香味,香水,线索,嗅觉;v.嗅,发觉 | |
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133 gorge | |
n.咽喉,胃,暴食,山峡;v.塞饱,狼吞虎咽地吃 | |
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134 erecting | |
v.使直立,竖起( erect的现在分词 );建立 | |
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135 gratuitous | |
adj.无偿的,免费的;无缘无故的,不必要的 | |
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136 extremities | |
n.端点( extremity的名词复数 );尽头;手和足;极窘迫的境地 | |
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137 stationery | |
n.文具;(配套的)信笺信封 | |
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138 discreet | |
adj.(言行)谨慎的;慎重的;有判断力的 | |
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139 ascended | |
v.上升,攀登( ascend的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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140 rustling | |
n. 瑟瑟声,沙沙声 adj. 发沙沙声的 | |
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141 concealed | |
a.隐藏的,隐蔽的 | |
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142 languorous | |
adj.怠惰的,没精打采的 | |
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143 plunged | |
v.颠簸( plunge的过去式和过去分词 );暴跌;骤降;突降 | |
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144 pretext | |
n.借口,托词 | |
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145 drawn | |
v.拖,拉,拔出;adj.憔悴的,紧张的 | |
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146 inspection | |
n.检查,审查,检阅 | |
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147 triumphant | |
adj.胜利的,成功的;狂欢的,喜悦的 | |
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148 virtuous | |
adj.有品德的,善良的,贞洁的,有效力的 | |
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149 pointed | |
adj.尖的,直截了当的 | |
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150 reigned | |
vi.当政,统治(reign的过去式形式) | |
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151 tints | |
色彩( tint的名词复数 ); 带白的颜色; (淡色)染发剂; 痕迹 | |
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152 rivets | |
铆钉( rivet的名词复数 ) | |
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153 ornaments | |
n.装饰( ornament的名词复数 );点缀;装饰品;首饰v.装饰,点缀,美化( ornament的第三人称单数 ) | |
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154 prodigality | |
n.浪费,挥霍 | |
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155 mosaics | |
n.马赛克( mosaic的名词复数 );镶嵌;镶嵌工艺;镶嵌图案 | |
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156 earthenware | |
n.土器,陶器 | |
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157 friezes | |
n.(柱顶过梁和挑檐间的)雕带,(墙顶的)饰带( frieze的名词复数 ) | |
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158 lighting | |
n.照明,光线的明暗,舞台灯光 | |
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159 armour | |
(=armor)n.盔甲;装甲部队 | |
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160 ardent | |
adj.热情的,热烈的,强烈的,烈性的 | |
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161 animating | |
v.使有生气( animate的现在分词 );驱动;使栩栩如生地动作;赋予…以生命 | |
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162 eddying | |
涡流,涡流的形成 | |
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163 inevitable | |
adj.不可避免的,必然发生的 | |
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164 fig | |
n.无花果(树) | |
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165 curtailed | |
v.截断,缩短( curtail的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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166 flannel | |
n.法兰绒;法兰绒衣服 | |
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167 promontory | |
n.海角;岬 | |
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168 lateral | |
adj.侧面的,旁边的 | |
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169 vistas | |
长条形景色( vista的名词复数 ); 回顾; 展望; (未来可能发生的)一系列情景 | |
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170 diffused | |
散布的,普及的,扩散的 | |
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171 gilded | |
a.镀金的,富有的 | |
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172 trophies | |
n.(为竞赛获胜者颁发的)奖品( trophy的名词复数 );奖杯;(尤指狩猎或战争中获得的)纪念品;(用于比赛或赛跑名称)奖 | |
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173 apotheoses | |
n.尊为神圣( apotheosis的名词复数 );神化;美化;颂扬 | |
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174 dummies | |
n.仿制品( dummy的名词复数 );橡皮奶头;笨蛋;假传球 | |
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175 mattresses | |
褥垫,床垫( mattress的名词复数 ) | |
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176 feverishly | |
adv. 兴奋地 | |
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177 amiable | |
adj.和蔼可亲的,友善的,亲切的 | |
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178 besieged | |
包围,围困,围攻( besiege的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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179 scatter | |
vt.撒,驱散,散开;散布/播;vi.分散,消散 | |
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180 gaily | |
adv.欢乐地,高兴地 | |
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181 sanguine | |
adj.充满希望的,乐观的,血红色的 | |
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182 jealousy | |
n.妒忌,嫉妒,猜忌 | |
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183 spoke | |
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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184 speculations | |
n.投机买卖( speculation的名词复数 );思考;投机活动;推断 | |
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185 vexed | |
adj.争论不休的;(指问题等)棘手的;争论不休的问题;烦恼的v.使烦恼( vex的过去式和过去分词 );使苦恼;使生气;详细讨论 | |
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186 morose | |
adj.脾气坏的,不高兴的 | |
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187 conspired | |
密谋( conspire的过去式和过去分词 ); 搞阴谋; (事件等)巧合; 共同导致 | |
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188 limpid | |
adj.清澈的,透明的 | |
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189 iris | |
n.虹膜,彩虹 | |
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190 lighter | |
n.打火机,点火器;驳船;v.用驳船运送;light的比较级 | |
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191 supple | |
adj.柔软的,易弯的,逢迎的,顺从的,灵活的;vt.使柔软,使柔顺,使顺从;vi.变柔软,变柔顺 | |
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192 persistent | |
adj.坚持不懈的,执意的;持续的 | |
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193 provincial | |
adj.省的,地方的;n.外省人,乡下人 | |
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194 interfered | |
v.干预( interfere的过去式和过去分词 );调停;妨碍;干涉 | |
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195 interfere | |
v.(in)干涉,干预;(with)妨碍,打扰 | |
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196 fully | |
adv.完全地,全部地,彻底地;充分地 | |
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197 descending | |
n. 下行 adj. 下降的 | |
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198 vibration | |
n.颤动,振动;摆动 | |
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199 dummy | |
n.假的东西;(哄婴儿的)橡皮奶头 | |
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200 fixed | |
adj.固定的,不变的,准备好的;(计算机)固定的 | |
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201 bloody | |
adj.非常的的;流血的;残忍的;adv.很;vt.血染 | |
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202 stump | |
n.残株,烟蒂,讲演台;v.砍断,蹒跚而走 | |
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203 swarming | |
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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204 flannels | |
法兰绒男裤; 法兰绒( flannel的名词复数 ) | |
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205 fatigue | |
n.疲劳,劳累 | |
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206 exhaled | |
v.呼出,发散出( exhale的过去式和过去分词 );吐出(肺中的空气、烟等),呼气 | |
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207 bust | |
vt.打破;vi.爆裂;n.半身像;胸部 | |
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208 penetrating | |
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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209 incense | |
v.激怒;n.香,焚香时的烟,香气 | |
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210 inhaling | |
v.吸入( inhale的现在分词 ) | |
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211 intoxicating | |
a. 醉人的,使人兴奋的 | |
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212 ennui | |
n.怠倦,无聊 | |
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213 pessimism | |
n.悲观者,悲观主义者,厌世者 | |
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214 equilibrium | |
n.平衡,均衡,相称,均势,平静 | |
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215 tranquil | |
adj. 安静的, 宁静的, 稳定的, 不变的 | |
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216 animated | |
adj.生气勃勃的,活跃的,愉快的 | |
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217 nervously | |
adv.神情激动地,不安地 | |
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218 kleptomaniacs | |
n.患偷窃狂者,有偷窃癖者( kleptomaniac的名词复数 ) | |
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219 perverse | |
adj.刚愎的;坚持错误的,行为反常的 | |
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220 superintendent | |
n.监督人,主管,总监;(英国)警务长 | |
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221 shameful | |
adj.可耻的,不道德的 | |
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222 mantles | |
vt.&vi.覆盖(mantle的第三人称单数形式) | |
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223 belly | |
n.肚子,腹部;(像肚子一样)鼓起的部分,膛 | |
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224 ransacked | |
v.彻底搜查( ransack的过去式和过去分词 );抢劫,掠夺 | |
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225 enveloped | |
v.包围,笼罩,包住( envelop的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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226 second-hand | |
adj.用过的,旧的,二手的 | |
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227 exasperated | |
adj.恼怒的 | |
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228 hypocrisy | |
n.伪善,虚伪 | |
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229 confided | |
v.吐露(秘密,心事等)( confide的过去式和过去分词 );(向某人)吐露(隐私、秘密等) | |
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230 proprietor | |
n.所有人;业主;经营者 | |
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231 hood | |
n.头巾,兜帽,覆盖;v.罩上,以头巾覆盖 | |
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232 curtly | |
adv.简短地 | |
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233 contemplating | |
深思,细想,仔细考虑( contemplate的现在分词 ); 注视,凝视; 考虑接受(发生某事的可能性); 深思熟虑,沉思,苦思冥想 | |
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234 commotion | |
n.骚动,动乱 | |
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235 beheld | |
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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236 scanty | |
adj.缺乏的,仅有的,节省的,狭小的,不够的 | |
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237 hatchet | |
n.短柄小斧;v.扼杀 | |
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238 serene | |
adj. 安详的,宁静的,平静的 | |
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239 insignificant | |
adj.无关紧要的,可忽略的,无意义的 | |
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240 puny | |
adj.微不足道的,弱小的 | |
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241 obstinate | |
adj.顽固的,倔强的,不易屈服的,较难治愈的 | |
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242 kindly | |
adj.和蔼的,温和的,爽快的;adv.温和地,亲切地 | |
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243 persistence | |
n.坚持,持续,存留 | |
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244 debiting | |
v.记入(账户)的借方( debit的现在分词 ) | |
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245 eyebrows | |
眉毛( eyebrow的名词复数 ) | |
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246 innocence | |
n.无罪;天真;无害 | |
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247 abruptly | |
adv.突然地,出其不意地 | |
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248 abrupt | |
adj.突然的,意外的;唐突的,鲁莽的 | |
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249 exhaustion | |
n.耗尽枯竭,疲惫,筋疲力尽,竭尽,详尽无遗的论述 | |
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250 liberated | |
a.无拘束的,放纵的 | |
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251 ecstasies | |
狂喜( ecstasy的名词复数 ); 出神; 入迷; 迷幻药 | |
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252 succumbed | |
不再抵抗(诱惑、疾病、攻击等)( succumb的过去式和过去分词 ); 屈从; 被压垮; 死 | |
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253 Vogue | |
n.时髦,时尚;adj.流行的 | |
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254 jumble | |
vt.使混乱,混杂;n.混乱;杂乱的一堆 | |
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255 intoxicated | |
喝醉的,极其兴奋的 | |
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256 follies | |
罪恶,时事讽刺剧; 愚蠢,蠢笨,愚蠢的行为、思想或做法( folly的名词复数 ) | |
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257 zinc | |
n.锌;vt.在...上镀锌 | |
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258 sufficiently | |
adv.足够地,充分地 | |
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259 entreated | |
恳求,乞求( entreat的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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260 brawny | |
adj.强壮的 | |
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261 sinewy | |
adj.多腱的,强壮有力的 | |
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262 astounded | |
v.使震惊(astound的过去式和过去分词);愕然;愕;惊讶 | |
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263 needy | |
adj.贫穷的,贫困的,生活艰苦的 | |
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264 assortment | |
n.分类,各色俱备之物,聚集 | |
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265 deigning | |
v.屈尊,俯就( deign的现在分词 ) | |
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266 remorse | |
n.痛恨,悔恨,自责 | |
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267 supreme | |
adj.极度的,最重要的;至高的,最高的 | |
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268 complacently | |
adv. 满足地, 自满地, 沾沾自喜地 | |
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269 distress | |
n.苦恼,痛苦,不舒适;不幸;vt.使悲痛 | |
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270 irritation | |
n.激怒,恼怒,生气 | |
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271 luxurious | |
adj.精美而昂贵的;豪华的 | |
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272 converged | |
v.(线条、运动的物体等)会于一点( converge的过去式 );(趋于)相似或相同;人或车辆汇集;聚集 | |
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273 secluded | |
adj.与世隔绝的;隐退的;偏僻的v.使隔开,使隐退( seclude的过去式和过去分词) | |
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274 alcove | |
n.凹室 | |
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275 doomed | |
命定的 | |
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276 stranded | |
a.搁浅的,进退两难的 | |
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277 shuddered | |
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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278 dignified | |
a.可敬的,高贵的 | |
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279 gendarmes | |
n.宪兵,警官( gendarme的名词复数 ) | |
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280 catching | |
adj.易传染的,有魅力的,迷人的,接住 | |
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281 sleight | |
n.技巧,花招 | |
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282 darting | |
v.投掷,投射( dart的现在分词 );向前冲,飞奔 | |
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283 scattered | |
adj.分散的,稀疏的;散步的;疏疏落落的 | |
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284 ablaze | |
adj.着火的,燃烧的;闪耀的,灯火辉煌的 | |
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285 horde | |
n.群众,一大群 | |
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286 overhauling | |
n.大修;拆修;卸修;翻修v.彻底检查( overhaul的现在分词 );大修;赶上;超越 | |
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287 deafened | |
使聋( deafen的过去式和过去分词 ); 使隔音 | |
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288 arrogant | |
adj.傲慢的,自大的 | |
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289 expenditure | |
n.(时间、劳力、金钱等)支出;使用,消耗 | |
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290 gorging | |
v.(用食物把自己)塞饱,填饱( gorge的现在分词 );作呕 | |
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291 humiliate | |
v.使羞辱,使丢脸[同]disgrace | |
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292 upwards | |
adv.向上,在更高处...以上 | |
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293 retracing | |
v.折回( retrace的现在分词 );回忆;回顾;追溯 | |
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294 goaded | |
v.刺激( goad的过去式和过去分词 );激励;(用尖棒)驱赶;驱使(或怂恿、刺激)某人 | |
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295 intoxication | |
n.wild excitement;drunkenness;poisoning | |
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296 hoarse | |
adj.嘶哑的,沙哑的 | |
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297 vibrations | |
n.摆动( vibration的名词复数 );震动;感受;(偏离平衡位置的)一次性往复振动 | |
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298 complexion | |
n.肤色;情况,局面;气质,性格 | |
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299 gallop | |
v./n.(马或骑马等)飞奔;飞速发展 | |
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300 embarrassment | |
n.尴尬;使人为难的人(事物);障碍;窘迫 | |
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301 insignificance | |
n.不重要;无价值;无意义 | |
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302 stammered | |
v.结巴地说出( stammer的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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303 overloaded | |
a.超载的,超负荷的 | |
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304 ripple | |
n.涟波,涟漪,波纹,粗钢梳;vt.使...起涟漪,使起波纹; vi.呈波浪状,起伏前进 | |
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305 enchanted | |
adj. 被施魔法的,陶醉的,入迷的 动词enchant的过去式和过去分词 | |
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306 copper | |
n.铜;铜币;铜器;adj.铜(制)的;(紫)铜色的 | |
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307 annoyance | |
n.恼怒,生气,烦恼 | |
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308 pretence | |
n.假装,作假;借口,口实;虚伪;虚饰 | |
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