Julian Maldon faced Louis in the parlour. Louis had conducted him there without the assistance of Mrs. Tams, who had been not merely advised, but commanded, to go to bed. Julian had entered the house like an exasperated1 enemy—glum, suspicious, and ferocious2. His mien3 seemed to say: "You wanted me to come, and I've come. But mind you don't drive me to extremities4." Impossible to guess from his grim face that he had asked permission to come! Nevertheless he had shaken Louis' hand with a ferocious sincerity5 which Louis felt keenly the next morning. He was the same Julian except that he had grown a brown beard. He had exactly the same short, thick-set figure, and the same defiant7 stare. South Africa had not changed him. No experience could change him. He would have returned from ten years at the North Pole or at the Equator, with savages8 or with uncompromising intellectuals, just the same Julian. He was one of those beings who are violently themselves all the time. By some characteristic social clumsiness he had omitted to remove his overcoat in the lobby. And now, in the parlour, he could not get it off. As a man seated, engaged in conversation by a woman standing10, forgets to rise at once and then cannot rise, finding himself glued to the chair, so was Julian with his overcoat; to take it off he would have had to flay11 himself alive.
"Won't you take off your overcoat?" Louis suggested.
"No."
With his instinctive12 politeness Louis turned to improve the fire. And as he poked13 among the coals he said, in the way of amiable14 conversation—
"How's South Africa?"
"All right," replied Julian, who hated to impart his sensations. If Julian had witnessed Napoleon's retreat from Moscow he would have come to the Five Towns and, if questioned—not otherwise—would have said that it was all right.
Louis, however, suspected that his brevity was due to Julian's resentment15 of any inquisitiveness16 concerning his doings in South Africa; and he therefore at once abandoned South Africa as a subject of talk, though he was rather curious to know what, indeed, Julian had been about in South Africa for six mortal months. Nobody in the Five Towns knew for certain what Julian had been about in South Africa. It was understood that he had gone there as a commercial traveller for his own wares17, when his business was in a highly unsatisfactory condition, and that he had meant to stay for only a month. The excursion had been deemed somewhat mad, but not more mad than sundry18 other deeds of Julian. Then Julian's manager, Foulger, had (it appeared) received authority to assume responsible charge of the manufactory until further notice. From that moment the business had prospered19: a result at which nobody was surprised, because Foulger was notoriously a "good man" who had hitherto been baulked in his ideas by an obstinate20 young employer.
In a community of stiff-necked employers, Julian already held a high place for the quality of being stiff-necked. Jim Horrocleave, for example, had a queer, murderous manner with customers and with "hands," but Horrocleave was friendly towards scientific ideas in the earthenware21 industry, and had even given half a guinea to the fund for encouraging technical education in the district. Whereas Julian Maldon not only terrorized customers and work-people (the latter nevertheless had a sort of liking22 for him), but was bitingly scornful of "cranky chemists," or "Germans," as he called the scientific educated experts. He was the pure essence of the British manufacturer. He refused to make what the market wanted, unless the market happened to want what he wanted to make. He hated to understand the reasons underlying23 the processes of manufacture, or to do anything which had not been regularly done for at least fifty years. And he accepted orders like insults. The wonder was, not that he did so little business, but that he did so much. Still, people did respect him. His aunt Maldon, with her skilled habit of finding good points in mankind, had thought that he must be remarkably24 intelligent because he was so rude.
Beyond a vague rumour25 that Julian had established a general pottery26 agency in Cape27 Town with favourable28 prospects29, no further news of him had reached England. But of course it was admitted that his inheritance had definitely saved the business, and also much improved his situation in the eyes of the community ... And now he had achieved a reappearance which in mysteriousness excelled even his absence.
"So you see we're installed here," said Louis, when he had finished with the fire.
"Aye!" muttered Julian dryly, and shut his lips.
Louis tried no more conversational30 openings. He was afraid. He waited for Julian's initiative as for an earthquake; for he knew now at the roots of his soul that the phrasing of the note was misleading, and that Julian had come to charge him with having misappropriated the sum of nine hundred and sixty-five pounds. He had, in reality, surmised32 as much on first reading the note, but somehow he had managed to put away the surmise31 as absurd and incredible.
After a formidable silence Julian said savagely—
"Look here. I've got something to tell you. I've written it all down, and I thought to send it ye by post. But after I'd written it I said to myself I'd tell it ye face to face or I'd die for it. And so here I am."
"Oh!" Louis murmured. He would have liked to be genially33 facetious34, but his mouth was dried up. He could not ask any questions. He waited.
"Where's missis?" Julian demanded.
Louis started, not instantly comprehending.
"Rachel? She's—she's in bed. She'd gone to bed before you sent round."
"Well, I'll thank ye to get her up, then!" Julian pronounced. "She's got to hear this at first hand, not at second." His gaze expressed a frank distrust of Louis.
"But—"
At this moment Rachel came into the parlour, apparently35 fully36 dressed. Her eyes were red, but her self-control was complete.
"I thought ye said she was in bed."
"She was," said Louis. He could find nothing to say to his wife.
Rachel nonchalantly held out her hand.
"So you've come," she said.
"Aye!" said Julian gruffly, and served Rachel's hand as he had served Louis'.
"Was it you we saw going down Moorthorne Road to-night?" she asked.
"It was," said Julian, looking at the carpet.
"Well, why didn't you come in then?"
"I couldn't make up my mind, if you must know."
"Aren't you going to sit down?"
Julian sat down.
Louis reflected that women were astonishing and incalculable, and the discovery seemed to him original, even profound. Imagine her tackling Julian in this fashion, with no preliminaries! She might have seen Julian last only on the previous day! The odalisque had vanished in this chill and matter-of-fact housewife.
"And why were you at the 'Three Tuns'?" she went on.
Julian replied with extraordinary bitterness—
"I was at the 'Three Tuns' because I was at the 'Three Tuns.'"
"I see you've grown a beard," said Rachel.
"Happen I have," said Julian. "But what I say is, I've got something to tell you two. I've written it all down and I thought to post it to ye. But after I'd written it I says to myself, 'I'll tell 'em face to face or I'll die for it.'"
"Is it about that money?" Rachel inquired.
"Aye!"
"Then Mr. Batchgrew did write and tell you about it. Won't you take that great, thick overcoat off?"
Julian jumped up as if in fury, pulled off the overcoat with violent gestures, and threw in on the Chesterfield. Then he sat down again, and, sticking out his chin, stared inimically at Louis.
Louis' throat was now so tight that he was nervously40 obliged to make the motion of swallowing. He could look neither at Rachel nor at Julian. He was nonplussed41. He knew not what to expect nor what he feared. He could not even be sure that what he feared was an accusation42. "I am safe. I am safe," he tried to repeat to himself, deeply convinced, nevertheless, against his reason, that he was not safe. The whole scene, every aspect of it, baffled and inexpressibly dismayed him.
Julian still stared, with mouth open, threatening. Then he slapped his knee.
"Nay43!" said he. "I shall read it to ye." And he drew some sheets of foolscap from his pocket. He opened the sheets, and frowned at them, and coughed. "Nay!" said he. "There's nothing else for it. I must smoke."
And he produced a charred44 pipe which might or might not have been the gift of Mrs. Maldon, filled it, struck a match on his boot, and turbulently puffed45 outrageous46 quantities of smoke. Louis, with singular courage, lit a cigarette, which gave him a little ease of demeanour, if not confidence.
II
And then at length Julian began to read—
"'Before I went to South Africa last autumn I found myself in considerable business difficulties. The causes of said difficulties were bad trade, unfair competition, and price-cutting at home and abroad, especially in Germany, and the modern spirit of unrest among the working-classes making it impossible for an employer to be master on his own works. I was not insolvent47, but I needed capital, the life-blood of industry. In justice to myself I ought to explain that my visit to South Africa was very carefully planned and thought out. I had a good reason to believe that a lot of business in door-furniture could be done there, and that I could obtain some capital from a customer in Durban. I point this out merely because trade rivals have tried to throw ridicule48 upon me for going out to South Africa when I did. I must ask you to read carefully'—you see, this was a letter to you," he interjected—"read carefully all that I say. I will now proceed."
"'When I came to Aunt Maldon's the night before I left for South Africa I wanted a wash, and I went into the back room—I mean the room behind the parlour—and took off my coat preparatory to going into the scullery to perform my ablutions. While in the back room I noticed that the picture nearest the cupboard opposite the door was hung very crooked49. When I came back to put my coat on again after washing, my eye again caught the picture. There was a chair almost beneath it. I got on the chair and put the picture into an horizontal position. While I was standing on the chair I could see on the top of the cupboard, where something white struck my attention. It was behind the cornice of the cupboard, but I could see it. I took it off the top of the cupboard and carefully scrutinized50 it by the gas, which, as you know, is at the corner of the fireplace, close to the cupboard. It was a roll consisting of Bank of England notes, to the value of four hundred and fifty pounds. I counted them at once, while I was standing on the chair. I then put them in the pocket of my coat which I had already put on. I wish to point out that if the chair had not been under the picture I should in all human probability not have attempted to straighten the picture. Also—'"
"But surely, Julian," Louis interrupted him, in a constrained51 voice, "you could have reached the picture without standing on the chair?" He interrupted solely52 from a tremendous desire for speech. It would have been impossible for him to remain silent. He had to speak or perish.
"I couldn't," Julian denied vehemently53. "The picture's practically as high as the top of the cupboard—or was."
"And could you see on to the top of the cupboard from a chair?" Louis, with a peculiar54 gaze, was apparently estimating Julian's total height from the ground when raised on a chair.
Julian dashed down the papers.
"Here! Come and look for yourself!" he exclaimed with furious pugnacity55. "Come and look." He jumped up and moved towards the door.
Rachel and Louis followed him obediently. In the back room it was he who struck a match and lighted the gas.
"You've shifted the picture!" he cried, as soon as the room was illuminated56.
"Yes, we have," Louis admitted.
"But there's where it was!" Julian almost shouted, pointing. "You can't deny it! There's the marks. Are they as high as the top of the cupboard, or aren't they?" Then he dragged along a chair to the cupboard and stood on it, puffing57 at his pipe. "Can I see on to the top of the cupboard or can't I?" he demanded. Obviously he could see on to the top of the cupboard.
"I didn't think the top was so low," said Louis.
"It's just as your great-aunt said," put in Rachel, in a meditative59 tone. "I remember she told us she pushed a chair forward with her knee. I dare say in getting on to the chair she knocked her elbow or something against the picture, and no doubt she left the chair more or less where she'd pushed it. That would be it."
"Did she say that to you?" Louis questioned Rachel.
"It doesn't matter much what she said," Julian growled60. "That's how it was, anyway. I'm telling you. I'm not here to listen to theories."
Julian removed his pipe from his mouth.
"What then? I walked off with 'em."
"But you don't mean to tell us you meant—to appropriate them, Julian? You don't mean that!" Louis spoke62 reassuringly63, good-naturedly, and with a slight superiority.
"No, I don't. I don't mean I appropriated 'em." Julian's voice rose defiantly64. "I mean I stole them.... I stole them, and what's more, I meant to steal them. And so there ye are! But come back to the parlour. I must finish my reading."
He strode away into the parlour, and the other two had no alternative but to follow him. They followed him like guilty things; for the manner of his confession65 was such as apparently to put his hearers, more than himself, in the wrong. He confessed as one who accuses.
"Sit down," said he, in the parlour.
"But surely," Louis protested, "if you're serious—"
"If I'm serious, man! Do you take me for a bally mountebank66? Do you suppose I'm doing this for fun?"
"Well," said Louis, "if you are serious, you needn't tell us any more. We know, and that's enough, isn't it?"
"'Also, if the gas hadn't been where it is, I should not have noticed anything on the top of the cupboard. I took the notes because I was badly in need of money, and also because I was angry at money being left like that on the tops of cupboards. I had no idea Aunt Maldon was such a foolish woman.'"
Louis interjected soothingly69: "But you only meant to teach the old lady a lesson and give the notes back."
"I didn't," said Julian, again extremely irritated. "Can't ye understand plain English? I say I stole the money, and I meant to steal it. Don't let me have to tell ye that any more. I'll go on: 'The sight of the notes was too sore a temptation for me, and I yielded to it. And all the more shame to me, for I had considered myself an honest man up to that very hour. I never thought about the consequences to my Aunt Maldon, nor how I was going to get rid of the notes. I wanted money bad, and I took it. As soon as I'd left the house I was stricken with remorse70. I could not decide what to do. The fact is I had no time to reflect until I was on the steamer, and it was then too late. Upon arriving at Cape Town I found the cable stating that Aunt Maldon was dead. I draw a veil over my state of mind, which, however, does not concern you. I ought to have returned to England at once, but I could not. I might have sent to Batchgrew and told him to take half of four hundred and fifty pounds off my share of Aunt Maldon's estate and put it into yours. But that would not have helped my conscience. I had it on my conscience, as it might have been on my stomach. I tried religion, but it was no good to me. It was between a prayer-meeting and an experience-meeting at Durban that I used part of the ill-gotten money. I had not touched it till then. But two days later I got back the very note that I'd spent. A prey71 to remorse, I wandered from town to town, trying to do business.'"
III
Rachel stood up.
"Julian!"
"What?"
"Give me that." As he hesitated, she added, "I want it."
He handed her the written confession.
"I simply can't bear to hear you reading it," said Rachel passionately73. "All about a prey to remorse and so on and so on! Why do you want to confess? Why couldn't you have paid back the money and have done with it, instead of all this fuss?"
"You'll do no such thing—not in my house."
And, repeating pleasurably the phrase "not in my house," Rachel stuck the confession into the fire, and feverishly75 forced it into the red coals with lunges of the poker76. When she turned away from the fire she was flushing scarlet77. Julian stood close by her on the hearth-rug.
"You don't understand," he said, with half-fearful resentment. "I had to punish myself. I doubt I'm not a religious man, but I had to punish myself. There's nobody in the world as I should hate confessing to as much as Louis here, and so I said to myself, I said, 'I'll confess to Louis.' I've been wandering about all the evening trying to bring myself to do it.... Well, I've done it."
His voice trembled, and though the vibration78 in it was almost imperceptible, it was sufficient to nullify the ridiculousness of Julian's demeanour as a wearer of sackcloth, and to bring a sudden lump into Rachel's throat. The comical absurdity79 of his bellicose80 pride because he had accomplished81 something which he had sworn to accomplish was extinguished by the absolutely painful sincerity of his final words, which seemed somehow to damage the reputation of Louis. Rachel could feel her emotion increasing, but she could not have defined what her emotion was. She knew not what to do. She was in the midst of a new and intense experience, which left her helpless. All she was clearly conscious of was an unrepentant voice in her heart repeating the phrase: "I don't care! I'm glad I stuck it in the fire! I don't care! I'm glad I stuck it in the fire." She waited for the next development. They were all waiting, aware that individual forces had been loosed, but unable to divine their resultant, and afraid of that resultant. Rachel glanced furtively82 at Louis. His face had an uneasy, stiff smile.
"Anyhow," said Louis at length, "this accounts for four hundred and fifty out of nine sixty-five. What we have to find out now, all of us, is what happened to the balance."
"I don't care a fig6 about the balance," said Julian impetuously. "I've said what I had to say and that's enough for me."
And he did not, in fact, care a fig about the balance. And if the balance had been five thousand odd instead of five hundred odd, he still probably would not have cared. Further, he privately84 considered that nobody else ought to care about the balance, either, having regard to the supreme85 moral importance to himself of the four hundred and fifty.
"Have you said anything to Mr. Batchgrew?" Louis asked, trying to adopt a casual tone, and to keep out of his voice the relief and joy which were gradually taking possession of his soul. The upshot of Julian's visit was so amazingly different from the apprehension86 of it that he could have danced in his glee.
"Not I!" Julian answered ferociously87. "The old robber has been writing me, wanting me to put money into some cinema swindle or other. I gave him a bit of my mind."
"He was trying the same here," said Rachel. The words popped by themselves out of her mouth, and she instantly regretted them. However, Louis seemed to be unconscious of the implied reproach on a subject presumably still highly delicate.
"But you can tell him, if you've a mind," Julian went on challengingly.
"We shan't do any such thing," said Rachel, words again popping by themselves out of her mouth. But this time she put herself right by adding, "Shall we, Louis?"
"Of course not," Louis agreed very amiably.
Rachel began to feel sympathetic towards the thief. She thought: "How strange to have some one close to me, and talking quite naturally, who has stolen such a lot of money and might be in prison for it—a convict!" Nevertheless, the thief seemed to be remarkably like ordinary people.
"Oh!" Julian ejaculated. "Well, here's the notes." He drew a lot of notes from a pocket-book and banged them down on the table. "Four hundred and fifty. The identical notes. Count 'em." He glared afresh, and with even increased virulence88.
"That's all right," said Louis. "That's all right. Besides, we only want half of them."
Sundry sheets of the confession, which had not previously89 caught fire, suddenly blazed up with a roar in the grate, and all looked momentarily at the flare90.
"You've got to have it all!" said Julian, flushing.
"My dear fellow," Louis repeated, "we shall only take half. The other half's yours."
"As God sees me," Julian urged, "I'll never take a penny of that money! Here—"
He snatched up all the notes and dashed wrathfully out of the parlour. Rachel followed quickly. He went to the back room, where the gas had been left burning high, sprang on to a chair in front of the cupboard, and deposited the notes on the top of the cupboard, in the very place from which he had originally taken them.
"There!" he exclaimed, jumping down from the chair. The symbolism of the action appeared to tranquillize him.
IV
For a moment Rachel, as a newly constituted housewife to whom every square foot of furniture surface had its own peculiar importance, was enraged91 to see Julian's heavy and dirty boots again on the seat of her unprotected chair. But the sense of hurt passed like a spasm92 as her eyes caught Julian's. They were alone together in the back room and not far from each other. And in the man's eyes she no longer saw the savage9 Julian, but an intensely suffering creature, a creature martyrized by destiny. She saw the real Julian glancing out in torment93 at the world through those eyes. The effect of the vibration in Julian's voice a few minutes earlier was redoubled. Her emotion nearly overcame her. She desired very much to succour Julian, and was aware of a more distinct feeling of impatience94 against Louis.
She thought Julian had been magnificently heroic, and all his faults of demeanour were counted to him for excellences95. He had been a thief; but the significance of the word "thief" was indeed completely altered for her. She had hitherto envisaged96 thieves as rascals97 in handcuffs bandied along the streets by policemen at the head of a procession of urchins—dreadful rascals! But now a thief was just a young man like other young men—only he had happened to see some bank-notes lying about and had put them in his pocket and then had felt very sorry for what he had done. There was no crime in what he had done ... was there? She pictured Julian's pilgrimage through South Africa, all alone. She pictured his existence at Knype, all alone; and his very ferocity rendered him the more wistful and pathetic in her sight. She was sure that his mother and sisters had never understood him; and she did not think it quite proper on their part to have gone permanently98 to America, leaving him solitary99 in England, as they had done. She perceived that she herself was the one person in the world capable of understanding Julian, the one person who could look after him, influence him, keep him straight, civilize100 him, and impart some charm to his life. And she was glad that she had the status of a married woman, because without that she would have been helpless.
Julian sat down, or sank, on to the chair.
"I'm very sorry I spoke like that to you in the other room—I mean about what you'd written," she said. "I suppose I ought not to have burnt it."
She spoke in this manner because to apologize to him gave her a curious pleasure.
"That's nothing," he answered, with the quietness of fatigue101. "I dare say you were right enough. Anyhow, ye'll never see me again."
"Why not, I should like to know?"
"I shall," she insisted.
"Louis won't."
She replied: "You must come and see me. I shall expect you to. I must tell you," she added confidentially104, in a lower tone, "I think you've been splendid to-night. I'm sure I respect you much more than I did before—and you can take it how you like!"
"Nay! Nay!" he murmured deprecatingly. All the harshness had melted out of his voice.
Then he stood up.
She comprehended that he wished to avoid speaking to Louis again that night, and, nodding, went at once to the parlour and brought away the overcoat.
"He's going," she muttered hastily to Louis, who was standing near the fire. Leaving the parlour, she drew the door to behind her.
She helped Julian with his overcoat and preceded him to the front door. She held out her hand to be tortured afresh, and suffered the grip of the vice106 with a steady smile.
"Now don't forget," she whispered.
Julian seemed to try to speak and to fail.... He was gone. She carefully closed and bolted the door.
V
Louis had not followed Julian and Rachel into the back room because he felt the force of an instinct to be alone with his secret satisfaction. In those moments it irked him to be observed, and especially to be observed by Rachel, not to mention Julian. He was glad for several reasons—on account of his relief, on account of the windfall of money, and perhaps most of all on account of the discovery that he was not the only thief in the family. The bizarre coincidence which had divided the crime about equally between himself and Julian amused him. His case and Julian's were on a level. Nevertheless, he somewhat despised Julian, patronized him, condescended107 to him. He could not help thinking that Julian was, after all, a greater sinner than himself. Never again could Julian look him (Louis) in the face as if nothing had happened. The blundering Julian was marked for life, by his own violent, unreasonable108 hand. Julian was a fool.
Rachel entered rather solemnly.
"Has he really gone?" Louis asked. Rachel did not care for her husband's tone, which was too frivolous109 for her. She was shocked to find that Louis had not been profoundly impressed by the events of the night.
"Yes," she said.
"What's he done with the money?"
"He's left it in the other room." She would not disclose to Louis that Julian had restored the notes to the top of the cupboard, because she was afraid that he might treat the symbolic110 act with levity111.
"All of it?"
"Yes. I'll bring it you."
"Oddest chap I ever came across!" he observed, smiling.
"But aren't you sorry for him?" Rachel demanded.
"Yes," said Louis airily. "I shall insist on his taking half, naturally."
"I'm going to bed," said Rachel. "You'll see all the lights out."
"What's come over the kid?" Louis asked himself, somewhat disconcerted, when she had gone.
He remained smoking, purposeless, in the parlour until all sounds had ceased overhead in the bedroom. Then he extinguished the gas in the parlour, in the back room, in the kitchen, and finally in the lobby, and went upstairs by the light of the street lamp. In the bedroom Rachel lay in bed, her eyes closed. She did not stir at his entrance. He locked the bank-notes in a drawer of the dressing-table, undressed with his usual elaborate care, approached Rachel's bed and gazed at her unresponsive form, turned down the gas to a pinpoint114, and got into bed himself. Not the slightest sound could be heard anywhere, either in or out of the house, save the faint breathing of Rachel. And after a few moments Louis no longer heard even that. In the darkness the mystery of the human being next him began somehow to be disquieting115. He was capable of imagining that he lay in the room with an utter stranger. Then he fell asleep.
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exasperated
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ferocious
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mien
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extremities
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sincerity
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fig
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defiant
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savages
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savage
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standing
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flay
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instinctive
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poked
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amiable
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resentment
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inquisitiveness
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wares
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sundry
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prospered
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obstinate
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earthenware
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liking
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underlying
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remarkably
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rumour
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| n.谣言，谣传，传闻 | |
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pottery
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| n.陶器，陶器场 | |
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cape
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| n.海角，岬；披肩，短披风 | |
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favourable
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| adj.赞成的，称赞的，有利的，良好的，顺利的 | |
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prospects
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| n.希望，前途(恒为复数) | |
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conversational
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| adj.对话的，会话的 | |
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31
surmise
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| v./n.猜想，推测 | |
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surmised
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| v.臆测，推断( surmise的过去式和过去分词 )；揣测；猜想 | |
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33
genially
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| adv.亲切地，和蔼地；快活地 | |
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34
facetious
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| adj.轻浮的，好开玩笑的 | |
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35
apparently
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| adv.显然地；表面上，似乎 | |
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36
fully
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| adv.完全地，全部地，彻底地；充分地 | |
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37
liar
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| n.说谎的人 | |
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38
winced
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| 赶紧避开，畏缩( wince的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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39
concealment
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| n.隐藏, 掩盖，隐瞒 | |
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nervously
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| adv.神情激动地，不安地 | |
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41
nonplussed
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| adj.不知所措的，陷于窘境的v.使迷惑( nonplus的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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42
accusation
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| n.控告，指责，谴责 | |
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43
nay
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| adv.不；n.反对票，投反对票者 | |
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44
charred
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| v.把…烧成炭( char的过去式)；烧焦 | |
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45
puffed
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| adj.疏松的v.使喷出( puff的过去式和过去分词 )；喷着汽（或烟）移动；吹嘘；吹捧 | |
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46
outrageous
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| adj.无理的，令人不能容忍的 | |
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47
insolvent
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| adj.破产的，无偿还能力的 | |
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48
ridicule
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| v.讥讽，挖苦；n.嘲弄 | |
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49
crooked
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| adj.弯曲的；不诚实的，狡猾的，不正当的 | |
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scrutinized
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| v.仔细检查，详审( scrutinize的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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51
constrained
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| adj.束缚的,节制的 | |
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52
solely
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| adv.仅仅，唯一地 | |
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vehemently
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| adv. 热烈地 | |
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peculiar
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| adj.古怪的，异常的；特殊的，特有的 | |
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55
pugnacity
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| n.好斗，好战 | |
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illuminated
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| adj.被照明的；受启迪的 | |
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57
puffing
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| v.使喷出( puff的现在分词 )；喷着汽（或烟）移动；吹嘘；吹捧 | |
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58
chastised
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| v.严惩（某人）（尤指责打）( chastise的过去式 ) | |
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meditative
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| adj.沉思的，冥想的 | |
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60
growled
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| v.（动物）发狺狺声， （雷）作隆隆声( growl的过去式和过去分词 )；低声咆哮着说 | |
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amiably
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| adv.和蔼可亲地，亲切地 | |
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62
spoke
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| n.（车轮的）辐条；轮辐；破坏某人的计划；阻挠某人的行动 v.讲，谈（speak的过去式）；说；演说；从某种观点来说 | |
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reassuringly
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| ad.安心，可靠 | |
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defiantly
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| adv.挑战地，大胆对抗地 | |
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65
confession
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| n.自白，供认，承认 | |
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66
mountebank
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| n.江湖郎中；骗子 | |
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67
curtly
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| adv.简短地 | |
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68
perusal
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| n.细读，熟读；目测 | |
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soothingly
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| adv.抚慰地，安慰地；镇痛地 | |
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remorse
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| n.痛恨，悔恨，自责 | |
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prey
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| n.被掠食者，牺牲者，掠食；v.捕食，掠夺，折磨 | |
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72
Christian
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| adj.基督教徒的；n.基督教徒 | |
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73
passionately
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| ad.热烈地，激烈地 | |
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74
sullenly
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| 不高兴地，绷着脸，忧郁地 | |
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feverishly
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| adv. 兴奋地 | |
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76
poker
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| n.扑克；vt.烙制 | |
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77
scarlet
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| n.深红色，绯红色，红衣；adj.绯红色的 | |
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78
vibration
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| n.颤动，振动；摆动 | |
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79
absurdity
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| n.荒谬，愚蠢；谬论 | |
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80
bellicose
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| adj.好战的；好争吵的 | |
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81
accomplished
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| adj.有才艺的；有造诣的；达到了的 | |
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82
furtively
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| adv. 偷偷地, 暗中地 | |
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83
aggrieved
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| adj.愤愤不平的，受委屈的；悲痛的；（在合法权利方面）受侵害的v.令委屈，令苦恼，侵害( aggrieve的过去式)；令委屈，令苦恼，侵害( aggrieve的过去式和过去分词) | |
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84
privately
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| adv.以私人的身份，悄悄地，私下地 | |
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85
supreme
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| adj.极度的，最重要的；至高的，最高的 | |
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86
apprehension
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| n.理解，领悟；逮捕，拘捕；忧虑 | |
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87
ferociously
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| 野蛮地，残忍地 | |
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88
virulence
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| n.毒力，毒性；病毒性；致病力 | |
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89
previously
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| adv.以前，先前（地） | |
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90
flare
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| v.闪耀，闪烁；n.潮红；突发 | |
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91
enraged
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| 使暴怒( enrage的过去式和过去分词 )； 歜； 激愤 | |
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92
spasm
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| n.痉挛，抽搐；一阵发作 | |
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93
torment
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| n.折磨；令人痛苦的东西(人)；vt.折磨；纠缠 | |
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94
impatience
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| n.不耐烦，急躁 | |
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95
excellences
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| n.卓越( excellence的名词复数 )；（只用于所修饰的名词后）杰出的；卓越的；出类拔萃的 | |
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96
envisaged
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| 想像，设想( envisage的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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97
rascals
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| 流氓( rascal的名词复数 )； 无赖； （开玩笑说法）淘气的人（尤指小孩）； 恶作剧的人 | |
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98
permanently
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| adv.永恒地，永久地，固定不变地 | |
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99
solitary
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| adj.孤独的，独立的，荒凉的；n.隐士 | |
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100
civilize
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| vt.使文明，使开化 (=civilise) | |
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101
fatigue
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| n.疲劳，劳累 | |
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102
kindly
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| adj.和蔼的，温和的，爽快的；adv.温和地，亲切地 | |
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103
sneered
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| 讥笑，冷笑( sneer的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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104
confidentially
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| ad.秘密地，悄悄地 | |
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105
briefly
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| adv.简单地，简短地 | |
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106
vice
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| n.坏事；恶习；[pl.]台钳，老虎钳；adj.副的 | |
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107
condescended
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| 屈尊，俯就( condescend的过去式和过去分词 )； 故意表示和蔼可亲 | |
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108
unreasonable
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| adj.不讲道理的，不合情理的，过度的 | |
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109
frivolous
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| adj.轻薄的；轻率的 | |
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110
symbolic
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| adj.象征性的，符号的，象征主义的 | |
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111
levity
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| n.轻率，轻浮，不稳定，多变 | |
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112
casually
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| adv.漠不关心地，无动于衷地，不负责任地 | |
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113
tepidly
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114
pinpoint
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| vt.准确地确定；用针标出…的精确位置 | |
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115
disquieting
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| adj.令人不安的，令人不平静的v.使不安，使忧虑，使烦恼( disquiet的现在分词 ) | |
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