How exhilarating (Mr. Prohack found it) to be on the road without a destination! It was Sunday morning, and the morning was marvellous for the time of year. Mr. Prohack had had a very fine night, and he now felt a curious desire to defy something or somebody, to defend himself, and to point out, if any one accused him of cowardice1, that he had not retreated from danger until after he had fairly affronted2 it. More curious still was the double, self-contradictory sensation of feeling both righteous and sinful. He would have spurned3 a charge of wickedness, and yet the feeling of being wicked was really very jolly. He seemed to have begun a new page of life, and then to have ripped the page away—and possibly spoilt the whole book. Deference4 to Eve, of course! Respect for Eve! Or was it merely that he must always be able to look Eve in the face? In sending the car for his idle use, Eve had performed a master-stroke which laid him low by its kindliness5, its wifeliness, its touches of perverse6 self-sacrifice and of vague, delicate malice7. Lady Massulam hung in the vast hollow of his mind, a brilliant and intensely seductive figure; but Eve hung there too, and Mr. Prohack was obliged to admit that the simple Eve was holding her own.
"My sagacity is famous," said Mr. Prohack to himself. "And I never showed more of it than in leaving Frinton instantly. Few men would have had the sense and the resolution to do it." And he went on praising himself to himself. Such was the mood of this singular man.
Hunger—Mr. Prohack's hunger—drew them up at Frating, a village a few miles short of Colchester. The inn at Frating had been constructed ages earlier entirely9 without reference to the fact that it is improper10 for certain different types of humanity to eat or drink in each other's presence. In brief, there was obviously only one dining-room, and not a series of dining-rooms classified according to castes. Mr. Prohack, free, devil-may-care and original, said to his chauffeur11:
"You'd better eat with me, Carthew."
"You're very kind, sir," said Carthew, and at once sat down and ceased to be a chauffeur.
"Well, I haven't been seeing much of you lately," Mr. Prohack edged forward into the fringes of intimacy12 when three glasses of beer and three slices of Derby Round had been unequally divided between them, "have I?"
"No, sir."
Mr. Prohack had in truth been seeing Carthew almost daily; but on this occasion he used the word "see" in a special sense.
"That boy of yours getting on all right?"
"Pretty fair, considering he's got no mother, if you understand what I mean, sir," replied Carthew, pushing back his chair, stretching out his legs, and picking his teeth with a fork.
"Ah! yes!" said Mr. Prohack commiseratingly. "Very awkward situation for you, that is."
"It isn't awkward for me, sir. It's my boy it's awkward for. I'm as right as rain."
"No chance of the lady coming back, I suppose?"
"Well, she'd better not try," said Carthew grimly.
"But does this mean you've done with the sex, at your age?" cried Mr. Prohack.
"I don't say as I've done with the sex, sir. Male and female created He them, as the good old Book says; and I'm not going behind that. No, not me! All I say is, I'm as right as rain—for the present—and she'd better not try."
"I bet you anything you won't keep it up," said Mr. Prohack, impetuously exceeding the limits of inter-caste decorum.
"Keep what up?"
"This attitude of yours."
"I won't bet, sir," said Carthew. "Because nobody can see round a corner. But I promise you I'll never take a woman seriously again. That's the mistake we make, taking 'em seriously. You see, sir, being a chauffeur in the early days of motor-cars, I've had a tidy bit of experience, if you understand what I mean. Because in them days a chauffeur was like what an air-pilot is to-day. He didn't have to ask, he didn't. And what I say is this—I say we're mugs to take 'em seriously."
"You think we are!" bubbled Mr. Prohack emptily, perceiving that he had to do with an individual whom misfortune had rendered impervious13 to argument.
"I do, sir. And what's more, I say you never know where you are with any woman."
"That I agree with," said Mr. Prohack, with a polite show of eagerness. "But you're cutting yourself off from a great deal you know, Carthew," he added, thinking magnificently upon his adventure with Lady Massulam.
"There's a rare lot as would like to be in my place," murmured Carthew with bland14 superiority. "If it's all the same to you, sir, I'll just go and give her a look over before we start again." He scraped his chair cruelly over the wood floor, rose, and ceased to be an authority on women.
It was while exercising his privilege of demanding, awaiting, and paying the bill, that Mr. Prohack happened to see, at the other end of the long, empty dining-room table, a copy of The Sunday Picture, which was the Sabbath edition of The Daily Picture. He got up and seized it, expecting it to be at least a week old. It proved, however, to be as new and fresh as it could be. Mr. Prohack glanced with inimical tolerance15 at its pages, until his eye encountered the portraits of two ladies, both known to him, side by side. One was Miss Eliza Fiddle16, the rage of the West End, and the other was Mrs. Arthur Prohack, wife of the well-known Treasury17 official. The portraits were juxtaposed, it seemed, because Miss Eliza Fiddle had just let her lovely home in Manchester Square to Mrs. Arthur Prohack.
The shock of meeting Eve in The Sunday Picture was terrible, but equally terrible to Mr. Prohack was the discovery of his ignorance in regard to the ownership of the noble mansion18. He had understood—or more correctly he had been given to understand—that the house and its contents belonged to a certain peer, whose taste in the arts was as celebrated19 as that of his lordly forefathers20 had been. Assuredly neither Eliza Fiddle nor anybody like her could have been responsible for the exquisite21 decorations and furnishings of that house. On the other hand, it would have been very characteristic of Eliza Fiddle to leave the house as carelessly as it had been left, with valuable or invaluable22 bibelots lying about all over the place. Almost certainly Eliza Fiddle must have had some sort of effective ownership of the place. He knew that dazzling public favourites did sometimes enjoy astounding23 and mysterious luck in the matter of luxurious24 homes, and that some of them progressed through a series of such homes, each more inexplicable25 than the last. He would not pursue the enquiry, even in his own mind. He had of course no grudge26 against the efficient and strenuous27 Eliza, for he was perfectly28 at liberty not to pay money in order to see her. She must be an exceedingly clever woman; and it was not in him to cast stones. Yet, Pharisaical snob29, he did most violently resent that she should be opposite his wife in The Sunday Picture.... Eve! Eve! A few short weeks ago, and you made a mock of women who let themselves get into The Daily Picture. And now you are there yourself! (But so, and often, was the siren Lady Massulam! A ticklish30 thing, criticism of life!)
And there was another point, as sharp as any. Ozzie Morfey must have known, Charlie must have known, Sissie must have known, Eve herself must have known, that the de facto owner of the noble mansion was Eliza Fiddle. And none had vouchsafed31 the truth to him.
"We'll struggle back to town I think," said Mr. Prohack to Carthew, with a pitiable affectation of brightness. And instead of sitting by Carthew's side, as previously32, he sat behind, and reflected upon the wisdom of Carthew. He had held that Carthew's views were warped33 by a peculiar34 experience. He now saw that they were not warped at all, but shapely, sane35 and incontrovertible.
II
That evening, soon after dark, the Eagle, dusty and unkempt from a journey which had not been free from mishaps36, rolled up to the front-door of Mr. Prohack's original modest residence behind Hyde Park; and Mr. Prohack jumped out; and Carthew came after him with two bags. The house was as dark as the owner's soul; not a gleam of light in any window. Mr. Prohack produced his familiar latch-key, scraped round the edge of the key-hole, savagely37 pushed in the key, and opened the door. There was still no light nor sign of life. Mr. Prohack paused on the threshold, and then his hand instinctively38 sought the electric switch and pulled it down. No responsive gleam!
"Machin!" called Mr. Prohack, as it were plaintively39.
No sound.
"I am a fool," thought Mr. Prohack.
He struck a match and walked forward delicately, peering. He descried40 an empty portmanteau lying on the stairs. He shoved against the dining-room door, which was ajar, and lit another match, and started back. The dining-room was full of ghosts, furniture sheeted in dust-sheets; and a newspaper had been made into a cap over his favourite Chippendale clock. He retreated.
"Put those bags into the car again," he said to Carthew, who stood hesitant on the vague whiteness of the front-step.
How much did Carthew know? Mr. Prohack was too proud to ask. Carthew was no longer an authority on women lunching with an equal; he was a servitor engaged and paid on the clear understanding that he should not speak until spoken to.
"Drive to Claridge's Hotel," said Mr. Prohack.
"Yes, sir."
At the entrance to the hotel the party was received by gigantic uniformed guards with all the respect due to an Eagle. Ignoring the guards, Mr. Prohack passed imperially within to the reception office.
"I want a bedroom, a sitting-room41 and a bath-room, please."
"A private suite."
"What—er—kind, sir? We have—"
"The best," said Mr. Prohack, with finality. He signed his name and received a ticket.
"Please have my luggage taken out of the car, and tell my chauffeur I shall want him at ten o'clock to-morrow morning, and that he should take the car to the hotel-garage, wherever it is, and sleep here. I will have some tea at once in my sitting-room."
The hotel-staff, like all hotel-staffs, loved a customer who knew his mind with precision and could speak it. Mr. Prohack was admirably served.
After tea he took a bath because he could think of nothing else to do. The bath, as baths will, inspired him with an idea. He set out on foot to Manchester Square, and having reached the Square cautiously followed the side opposite to the noble mansion. The noble mansion blazed with lights through the wintry trees. It resembled the set-piece of a pyrotechnic display. Mr. Prohack shivered in the dank evening. Then he observed that blinds and curtains were being drawn43 in the noble mansion, shutting out from its superb nobility the miserable44, crude, poverty-stricken world. With the exception of the glow in the fan light over the majestic45 portals, the noble mansion was now as dark as Mr. Prohack's other house.
He shut his lips, steeled himself, and walked round the Square to the noble mansion and audaciously rang the bell. He had to wait. He shook guiltily, as though he, and no member of his family, had sinned. A little more, and his tongue would have cleaved46 to the gold of his upper denture. The double portals swung backwards47. Mr. Prohack beheld48 the portly form of an intensely traditional butler, and behind the butler a vista49 of outer and inner halls and glimpses of the soaring staircase. He heard, somewhere in the distance of the interior, the ringing laugh of his daughter Sissie.
The butler looked carelessly down upon him, and, as Mr. Prohack uttered no word, challenged him.
"Yes, sir?"
"Is Mrs. Prohack at home?"
"No, sir." (Positively50.)
"Is Miss Prohack at home?"
"No, sir." (More positively.)
"Oh!"
"Will you leave your name, sir?"
"No."
Of course he might have walked right in, and said to the butler: "Here's a month's wages. Hook it." But he was a peculiar fellow, verging52 sometimes on silliness. He merely turned away. The vertiginous53 rapidity of his wife's developments, manoeuvres and transformations54 had dazed him into a sort of numbed55 idiocy56. In two days, in a day, with no warning to him of her extraordinary precipitancy, she had 'flitted'!
At Claridge's, through giving Monsieur Charles, the maitre d' hôtel, carte blanche in the ordering of his dinner and then only half-eating his dinner, Mr. Prohack failed somewhat to maintain his prestige, though he regained57 ground towards the end by means of champagne58 and liqueurs. The black-and-gold restaurant was full of expensive persons who were apparently59 in ignorance of the fact that the foundations of the social fabric60 had been riven. They were all gay; the music was gay; everything was gay except Mr. Prohack—the sole living being in the place who conformed in face and heart to the historical conception of the British Sunday.
But Mr. Prohack was not now a man,—he was a grievance61; he was the most deadly kind of grievance, the irrational62 kind. A superlatively fine cigar did a little—not much—to solace63 him. He smoked it with scientific slowness, and watched the restaurant empty itself.... He was the last survivor64 in the restaurant; and fifteen waiters and two hundred and fifty electric lamps were keeping him in countenance65. Then his wandering, enfeebled attention heard music afar off, and he remembered some remark of Sissie's to the effect that Claridge's was the best place for dancing in London on Sunday nights. He would gaze Byronically upon the dance. He signed his bill and mooned towards the ball-room, which was full of radiant couples: a dazzling scene, fit to mark the end of an epoch66 and of a society.
The next thing was that he had an absurd delusion67 of seeing Sissie and Charlie locked together amid the couples. He might have conquered this delusion, but it was succeeded by another,—the illusion of seeing Ozzie Morfey and Eve locked together amid the couples.... Yes, they were there, all four of them. At first Mr. Prohack was amazed, as at an unprecedented68 coincidence. But he perceived that the coincidence was not after all so amazing. They had done what they had to do in the way of settling Eve into the noble mansion, and then they had betaken themselves to the nearest and the best dancing resort for the rest of the evening. Nothing could be more natural.
Mr. Prohack might have done all manner of feats69. What he actually did do was to fly like a criminal to the lift and seek his couch.
III
The next morning at ten o'clock a strange thing happened. The hotel clocks showed the hour and Mr. Prohack's watch showed the hour, and Carthew was not there with the car. Mr. Prohack could not understand this unnatural70 failure to appear on the part of Carthew, for Carthew had never been known to be late (save when interfered71 with by Mimi), and therefore never could be late. Mr. Prohack fretted72 for a quarter of an hour, and then caused the hotel-garage to be telephoned to. The car had left the garage at nine-fifty. Mr. Prohack went out for a walk, not ostensibly, but really, to look for the car in the streets of London! (Such was his diseased mentality73.) He returned at half past eleven, and at eleven thirty-two the car arrived. Immediately Mr. Prohack became calm; his exterior74 was apt to be very deceptive75; and he said gently to Carthew, just as if nothing in the least unusual had occurred:
"A little late, aren't you?"
"Yes, sir," Carthew replied, with a calmness to match his employer's. "As I was coming here from the garage I met the mistress. She was looking for a taxi and she took me."
"But did you tell her that I asked you to be here at 10 o'clock?"
"No, sir."
"Did you tell her that I was in London?"
"No, sir."
Mr. Prohack hesitated a moment and then said:
"Drive into Hyde Park, please, and keep to the north side."
When the car had reached a quiet spot in the park, Mr. Prohack stopped it, and, tapping on the front window, summoned Carthew.
"Carthew," said he, through the side-window, which he let down without opening the door, "we're by ourselves. Will you kindly76 explain to me why you concealed77 from Mrs. Prohack that I was in London?"
"Well, sir," Carthew answered, very erect78 and slightly frowning, "I didn't know you were in London, if you understand what I mean."
"Didn't you bring me to London? Of course you knew I was in London."
"No, sir. Not if you understand what I mean."
"I emphatically do not understand what you mean," said Mr. Prohack, who, however, was not speaking the truth.
"May I put a question, sir?" Carthew suggested. "Having regard to all the circumstances—I say having regard as it were to all the circumstances, in a manner of speaking, what should you have done in my place, sir?"
"How do I know?" cried Mr. Prohack. "I'm not a chauffeur. What did you say to Mrs. Prohack?"
"I said that you had instructed me to return to London, as you didn't need the car, and that I was just going to the house for orders. And by the way, sir," Carthew added, glancing at the car-clock, "Madam told me to be back at twelve fifteen—I told her I ought to go to the garage to get something done to the carbureter—so that there is not much time."
Mr. Prohack jumped out of the car and said: "Go."
Wandering alone in the chilly79 Park he reflected upon the potentialities of human nature as exhibited in chauffeurs80. The fellow Carthew had evidently come to the conclusion that there was something wrong in the more intimate relationships of the Prohack family, and, faced with a sudden contretemps, he had acted according to the best of his wisdom and according to his loyalty81 to his employer, but he had acted wrongly. But of course the original sinner was Mr. Prohack himself. Respectable State officials, even when on sick leave, do not call at empty houses and stay at hotels within a stone's throw of their own residences unknown to their families. No! Mr. Prohack saw that he had been steering82 a crooked83 course. Error existed and must be corrected. He decided84 to walk direct to Manchester Square. If Eve wanted the car at twelve fifteen she would be out of the house at twelve thirty, and probably out for lunch. So much the better. She should find him duly established on her return.
Reconnoitring later at Manchester Square he saw no car, and rang the bell of the noble mansion. On account of the interview of the previous evening he felt considerably85 nervous and foolish, and the butler suffered through no fault of the butler's.
"I'm Mr. Prohack," said he, with self-conscious fierceness. "What's your name? Brool, eh? Take my overcoat and send Machin to me at once." He lit a cigarette to cover himself. The situation, though transient, had been sufficiently86 difficult.
Machin came leaping and bounding down the stairs as if by magic. She had heard his voice, and her joy at his entry into his abode87 caused her to forget her parlour-maidenhood and to exhibit a humanity which pained Mr. Brool, who had been brought up in the strictest traditions of flunkeyism. Her joy pleased Mr. Prohack and he felt better.
"Good morning, Machin," said he, quite blithely88. "I just want to see how things have been fixed89 up in my rooms." He had not the least notion where or what his rooms were in the vast pile.
"Yes, sir," Machin responded eagerly, delighted that Mr. Prohack was making to herself, as an old friend, an appeal which he ought to have made to the butler. Mr. Prohack, guided by the prancing90 Machin, discovered that, in addition to a study, he had a bedroom and a dressing-room and a share in Eve's bath-room. The dressing-room had a most agreeable aspect. Machin opened a huge and magnificent wardrobe, and in drawer after drawer displayed his new hosiery marvellously arranged, and in other portions of the wardrobe his new suits and hats and boots. The whole made a wondrous91 spectacle.
"And who did all this?" he demanded.
"Madam, sir. But Miss Warburton came to help her at nine this morning, and I helped too. Miss Warburton has put the lists in your study, sir."
"Thank you, Machin. It's all very nice." He was touched. The thought of all these women toiling92 in secret to please him was exceedingly sweet. It was not as though he had issued any requests. No! They did what they did from enthusiasm, unknown to him.
"Wait a second," he stopped Machin, who was leaving him. "Which floor did you say my study is on?"
She led him to his study. An enormous desk, and in the middle of it a little pile of papers crushed by a block of crystal! The papers were all bills. The amounts of them alarmed him momentarily, but that was only because he could not continuously and effectively remember that he had over three hundred pounds a week coming in. Still, the bills did somewhat dash him, and he left them without getting to the bottom of the pile. He thought he would voyage through the house, but he got no further than his wife's boudoir. The boudoir also had an enormous desk, and on it also was a pile of papers. He offended the marital93 code by picking up the first one, which read as follows:—"Madam. We beg to enclose as requested estimate for buffet94 refreshments95 for one hundred and fifty persons, and hire of one hundred gilt96 cane97 chairs and bringing and taking away same. Trusting to be honoured with your commands—" This document did more than alarm him; it shook him. Clearly Eve was planning a great reception. Even to attend a reception was torture to him, always had been; but to be the host at a reception...! No, his mind refused to contemplate98 a prospect99 so appalling100. Surely Eve ought to have consulted him before beginning to plan a reception. Why a reception? He glimpsed matters that might be even worse than a reception. And this was the same woman who had so touchingly101 arranged his clothes.
IV
He was idly regarding himself in an immense mirror that topped the fireplace, and thinking that despite the stylishness102 of his accoutrement he presented the appearance of a rather tousled and hairy person of unromantic middle-age, when, in the glass, he saw the gilded103 door open and a woman enter the room. He did not move,—only stared at the image. He knew the woman intimately, profoundly, exhaustively, almost totally. He knew her as one knows the countryside in which one has grown up, where every feature of the scene has become a habit of the perceptions. And yet he had also a strange sensation of seeing her newly, of seeing her for the first time in his life and estimating her afresh. In a flash he had compared her, in this boudoir, with Lady Massulam in Lady Massulam's bungalow104. In a flash all the queer, frightening romance of 2 a.m. in Frinton had swept through his mind. Well, she had not the imposingness nor the mystery of Lady Massulam, nor perhaps the challenge of Lady Massulam; she was very much more prosaic105 to him. But still he admitted that she had an effect on him, that he reacted to her presence, that she was at any rate at least as incalculable as Lady Massulam, and that there might be bits of poetry gleaming in her prose, and that after a quarter of a century he had not arrived at a final judgment106 about her. Withal Lady Massulam had a quality which she lacked,—he did not know what the quality was, but he knew that it excited him in an unprecedented manner and that he wanted it and would renounce107 it with regret. "Is it conceivable," he thought, shocked at himself, "that all three of us are on the road to fifty years?"
Then he turned, and blushed, feeling exactly like an undergraduate.
"I knew you'd be bored up there in that hole." Eve greeted him.
"I wasn't bored for a single moment," said he.
"Don't tell me," said she.
She was very smart in her plumpness. The brim of her spreading hat bumped against his forehead as he bent108 to kiss her. The edge of the brown veil came half-way down her face, leaving her mouth unprotected from him, but obscuring her disturbing eyes. As he kissed her all his despondency and worry fell away from him, and he saw with extraordinary clearness that since the previous evening he had been an irrational ass8. The creature had done nothing unusual, nothing that he had not explicitly109 left her free to do; and everything was all right.
"Did you see your friend Lady Massulam?" was her first question.
Marvellous the intuition—or the happy flukes—of women! Yet their duplicity was still more marvellous. The creature's expressed anxiety about the danger of Lady Massulam's society to Charlie must have been pure, wanton, gratuitous110 pretence111.
He told her of his meeting with Lady Massulam.
"I knew she wouldn't leave you alone for long. But I've no doubt you enjoyed it. I hope you did. You need adventure, my poor boy. You were getting into a regular rut."
"Oh, was I!" he opposed. "And what are you doing here? Machin told me you were out for lunch."
"Oh! You've been having a chat with your friend Machin, have you? It seems she's shown you your beautiful dressing-room. Well, I was going out for lunch. But when I heard you'd returned I gave it up and came back. I knew so well you'd want looking after."
"And who told you I'd returned?"
"Carthew, of course! You're a very peculiar pair, you two. When I first saw him Carthew gave me to understand he'd left you at Frinton. But when I see him again I learn that you're in town and that you spent last night at Claridge's. You did quite right, my poor boy. Quite right. I want you to feel free. It must have been great fun stopping at Claridge's, with your own home close by. I'll tell you something. We were dancing at Claridge's last night, but I suppose you'd gone to bed."
"The dickens you were!" said he. "By the way, you might instruct one of your butlers to telephone to the hotel for my things and have the bill paid."
"So you'll sleep here to-night?" said she, archly.
"If there's room," said he. "Anyway you've arranged all my clothes with the most entrancing harmony and precision."
"Oh!" Eve exclaimed, in a tone suddenly changed. "That was Miss Warburton more than me. She took an hour off from Charlie this morning in order to do it."
Then Mr. Prohack observed his wife's face crumble113 to pieces, and she moved aside from him, sat down and began to cry.
"Now what next? What next?" he demanded with impatient amiability114, for he was completely at a loss to keep pace with the twistings of her mind.
"Arthur, why did you deceive me about that girl? How could you do it? I hadn't the slightest idea it was M—miss W—instock. I can't make you out sometimes, Arthur—really I can't!"
The fellow had honestly forgotten that he had in fact grossly deceived his wife to the point of planting Mimi Winstock upon her as somebody else. He had been nourishing imaginary and absurd grievances115 against Eve for many hours, but her grievance against himself was genuine enough and large enough. No wonder she could not make him out. He could not make himself out. His conscience awoke within him and became exceedingly unpleasant. But being a bad man he laughed somewhat coarsely.
"Oh!" he said. "That was only a bit of a joke. But how did you find out, you silly child?"
"Ozzie saw her yesterday. He knew her. You can't imagine how awkward it was. Naturally I had to laugh it off. But I cried half the night."
"But why? What did it matter? Ozzie's one of the family. The girl's not at all a bad sort, and I did it for her sake."
Eve dried her eyes and looked up at him reproachfully with wet cheeks.
"When I think," said she, "that that girl might so easily have killed me in that accident! And it would have been all her fault. And then where would you have been without me? Where would you have been? You'd never have got over it. Never, never! You simply don't know what you'd be if you hadn't got me to look after you! And you bring her into the house under a false name, and you call it a joke! No, Arthur. Frankly116 I couldn't have believed it of you."
Mr. Prohack was affected117. He was not merely dazzled by the new light which she was shedding on things,—he was emotionally moved.... Would Lady Massulam be capable of such an attitude as Eve's in such a situation? The woman was astounding. She was more romantic than any creature in any bungalow of romantic Frinton. She beat him. She rent his heart. So he said:
"Well, my beloved infant, if it's any use to you I'm prepared to admit once for all that I was an ass. We'll never have the wretched Mimi in the house again. I'll give the word to Charlie."
"Oh, not at all!" she murmured, smiling sadly. "I've got over it. And you must think of my dignity. How ridiculous it would be of me to make a fuss about her being here! Now, wouldn't it? But I'm glad I've told you. I didn't mean to, really. I meant never to say a word. But the fact is I can't keep anything from you."
She began to cry again, but differently. He soothed118 her, as none but he could, thinking exultantly119: "What a power I have over this chit!" They were perfectly happy. They lunched alone together, talking exclusively for the benefit of Eve's majestic butler. And Mr. Prohack, with that many-sidedness that marked his strange regrettable mind, said to himself at intervals120: "Nevertheless she's still hiding from me her disgusting scheme for a big reception. And she knows jolly well I shall hate it."
点击
收听单词发音
收听单词发音 |
1
cowardice
|
|
| n.胆小，怯懦 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
2
affronted
|
|
| adj.被侮辱的，被冒犯的v.勇敢地面对( affront的过去式和过去分词 )；相遇 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
3
spurned
|
|
| v.一脚踢开，拒绝接受( spurn的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
4
deference
|
|
| n.尊重，顺从；敬意 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
5
kindliness
|
|
| n.厚道，亲切，友好的行为 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
6
perverse
|
|
| adj.刚愎的；坚持错误的，行为反常的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
7
malice
|
|
| n.恶意，怨恨，蓄意；[律]预谋 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
8
ass
|
|
| n.驴；傻瓜，蠢笨的人 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
9
entirely
|
|
| ad.全部地，完整地；完全地，彻底地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
10
improper
|
|
| adj.不适当的，不合适的，不正确的，不合礼仪的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
11
chauffeur
|
|
| n.(受雇于私人或公司的)司机；v.为…开车 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
12
intimacy
|
|
| n.熟悉，亲密，密切关系，亲昵的言行 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
13
impervious
|
|
| adj.不能渗透的，不能穿过的，不易伤害的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
14
bland
|
|
| adj.淡而无味的，温和的，无刺激性的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
15
tolerance
|
|
| n.宽容；容忍，忍受；耐药力；公差 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
16
fiddle
|
|
| n.小提琴；vi.拉提琴；不停拨弄，乱动 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
17
treasury
|
|
| n.宝库；国库，金库；文库 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
18
mansion
|
|
| n.大厦，大楼；宅第 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
19
celebrated
|
|
| adj.有名的，声誉卓著的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
20
forefathers
|
|
| n.祖先，先人；祖先，祖宗( forefather的名词复数 )；列祖列宗；前人 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
21
exquisite
|
|
| adj.精美的；敏锐的；剧烈的，感觉强烈的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
22
invaluable
|
|
| adj.无价的，非常宝贵的，极为贵重的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
23
astounding
|
|
| adj.使人震惊的vt.使震惊，使大吃一惊astound的现在分词) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
24
luxurious
|
|
| adj.精美而昂贵的；豪华的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
25
inexplicable
|
|
| adj.无法解释的，难理解的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
26
grudge
|
|
| n.不满，怨恨，妒嫉；vt.勉强给，不情愿做 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
27
strenuous
|
|
| adj.奋发的，使劲的；紧张的；热烈的，狂热的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
28
perfectly
|
|
| adv.完美地，无可非议地，彻底地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
29
snob
|
|
| n.势利小人，自以为高雅、有学问的人 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
30
ticklish
|
|
| adj.怕痒的；问题棘手的；adv.怕痒地；n.怕痒，小心处理 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
31
vouchsafed
|
|
| v.给予，赐予( vouchsafe的过去式和过去分词 )；允诺 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
32
previously
|
|
| adv.以前，先前（地） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
33
warped
|
|
| adj.反常的；乖戾的；（变）弯曲的；变形的v.弄弯，变歪( warp的过去式和过去分词 )；使（行为等）不合情理，使乖戾， | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
34
peculiar
|
|
| adj.古怪的，异常的；特殊的，特有的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
35
sane
|
|
| adj.心智健全的，神志清醒的，明智的，稳健的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
36
mishaps
|
|
| n.轻微的事故，小的意外( mishap的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
37
savagely
|
|
| adv. 野蛮地，残酷地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
38
instinctively
|
|
| adv.本能地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
39
plaintively
|
|
| adv.悲哀地，哀怨地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
40
descried
|
|
| adj.被注意到的，被发现的，被看到的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
41
sitting-room
|
|
| n.（BrE）客厅，起居室 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
42
suite
|
|
| n.一套(家具)；套房；随从人员 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
43
drawn
|
|
| v.拖，拉，拔出；adj.憔悴的，紧张的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
44
miserable
|
|
| adj.悲惨的，痛苦的；可怜的，糟糕的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
45
majestic
|
|
| adj.雄伟的，壮丽的，庄严的，威严的，崇高的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
46
cleaved
|
|
| v.劈开，剁开，割开( cleave的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
47
backwards
|
|
| adv.往回地，向原处，倒，相反，前后倒置地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
48
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 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
49
vista
|
|
| n.远景，深景，展望，回想 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
50
positively
|
|
| adv.明确地，断然，坚决地；实在，确实 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
51
abruptly
|
|
| adv.突然地，出其不意地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
52
verging
|
|
| 接近，逼近（verge的现在分词形式） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
53
vertiginous
|
|
| adj.回旋的；引起头晕的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
54
transformations
|
|
| n.变化( transformation的名词复数 )；转换；转换；变换 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
55
numbed
|
|
| v.使麻木，使麻痹( numb的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
56
idiocy
|
|
| n.愚蠢 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
57
regained
|
|
| 复得( regain的过去式和过去分词 )； 赢回； 重回； 复至某地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
58
champagne
|
|
| n.香槟酒；微黄色 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
59
apparently
|
|
| adv.显然地；表面上，似乎 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
60
fabric
|
|
| n.织物，织品，布；构造，结构，组织 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
61
grievance
|
|
| n.怨愤，气恼，委屈 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
62
irrational
|
|
| adj.无理性的，失去理性的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
63
solace
|
|
| n.安慰；v.使快乐；vt.安慰(物)，缓和 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
64
survivor
|
|
| n.生存者，残存者，幸存者 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
65
countenance
|
|
| n.脸色，面容；面部表情；vt.支持，赞同 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
66
epoch
|
|
| n.(新)时代；历元 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
67
delusion
|
|
| n.谬见，欺骗，幻觉，迷惑 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
68
unprecedented
|
|
| adj.无前例的，新奇的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
69
feats
|
|
| 功绩，伟业，技艺( feat的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
70
unnatural
|
|
| adj.不自然的；反常的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
71
interfered
|
|
| v.干预( interfere的过去式和过去分词 )；调停；妨碍；干涉 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
72
fretted
|
|
| 焦躁的，附有弦马的，腐蚀的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
73
mentality
|
|
| n.心理，思想，脑力 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
74
exterior
|
|
| adj.外部的，外在的；表面的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
75
deceptive
|
|
| adj.骗人的，造成假象的，靠不住的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
76
kindly
|
|
| adj.和蔼的，温和的，爽快的；adv.温和地，亲切地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
77
concealed
|
|
| a.隐藏的，隐蔽的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
78
erect
|
|
| n./v.树立，建立，使竖立；adj.直立的，垂直的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
79
chilly
|
|
| adj.凉快的，寒冷的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
80
chauffeurs
|
|
| n.受雇于人的汽车司机( chauffeur的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
81
loyalty
|
|
| n.忠诚，忠心 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
82
steering
|
|
| n.操舵装置 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
83
crooked
|
|
| adj.弯曲的；不诚实的，狡猾的，不正当的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
84
decided
|
|
| adj.决定了的，坚决的；明显的，明确的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
85
considerably
|
|
| adv.极大地；相当大地；在很大程度上 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
86
sufficiently
|
|
| adv.足够地，充分地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
87
abode
|
|
| n.住处，住所 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
88
blithely
|
|
| adv.欢乐地，快活地，无挂虑地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
89
fixed
|
|
| adj.固定的，不变的，准备好的；(计算机)固定的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
90
prancing
|
|
| v.（马）腾跃( prance的现在分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
91
wondrous
|
|
| adj.令人惊奇的，奇妙的；adv.惊人地；异乎寻常地；令人惊叹地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
92
toiling
|
|
| 长时间或辛苦地工作( toil的现在分词 )； 艰难缓慢地移动，跋涉 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
93
marital
|
|
| adj.婚姻的，夫妻的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
94
buffet
|
|
| n.自助餐；饮食柜台；餐台 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
95
refreshments
|
|
| n.点心,便餐;(会议后的)简单茶点招 待 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
96
gilt
|
|
| adj.镀金的；n.金边证券 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
97
cane
|
|
| n.手杖，细长的茎，藤条；v.以杖击，以藤编制的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
98
contemplate
|
|
| vt.盘算，计议；周密考虑；注视，凝视 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
99
prospect
|
|
| n.前景，前途；景色，视野 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
100
appalling
|
|
| adj.骇人听闻的，令人震惊的，可怕的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
101
touchingly
|
|
| adv.令人同情地，感人地，动人地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
102
stylishness
|
|
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
|
103
gilded
|
|
| a.镀金的，富有的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
104
bungalow
|
|
| n.平房，周围有阳台的木造小平房 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
105
prosaic
|
|
| adj.单调的，无趣的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
106
judgment
|
|
| n.审判；判断力，识别力，看法，意见 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
107
renounce
|
|
| v.放弃；拒绝承认，宣布与…断绝关系 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
108
bent
|
|
| n.爱好，癖好；adj.弯的；决心的，一心的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
109
explicitly
|
|
| ad.明确地，显然地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
110
gratuitous
|
|
| adj.无偿的，免费的；无缘无故的，不必要的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
111
pretence
|
|
| n.假装，作假；借口，口实；虚伪；虚饰 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
112
levity
|
|
| n.轻率，轻浮，不稳定，多变 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
113
crumble
|
|
| vi.碎裂，崩溃；vt.弄碎，摧毁 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
114
amiability
|
|
| n.和蔼可亲的，亲切的，友善的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
115
grievances
|
|
| n.委屈( grievance的名词复数 )；苦衷；不满；牢骚 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
116
frankly
|
|
| adv.坦白地，直率地；坦率地说 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
117
affected
|
|
| adj.不自然的，假装的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
118
soothed
|
|
| v.安慰( soothe的过去式和过去分词 )；抚慰；使舒服；减轻痛苦 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
119
exultantly
|
|
| adv.狂欢地，欢欣鼓舞地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
120
intervals
|
|
| n.[军事]间隔( interval的名词复数 )；间隔时间；[数学]区间；（戏剧、电影或音乐会的）幕间休息 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
| 欢迎访问英文小说网 |