For an hour or more after leaving the enchanted4 rooms near the roof, I lounged in my study, persistently5 attentive6 to the portrait of Ludwig the Red, with my ears straining for sounds from the other side of the secret panels. Alas7! those panels were many cubits thick and as staunch as the sides of a battleship. But there was a vast satisfaction in knowing that she was there, asleep perhaps, with her brown head pillowed close to the wall but little more than an arm's length from the crimson9 waistcoat of Ludwig the Red,—for he sat rather low like a Chinese god and supported his waistcoat with his knees. A gross, forbidding chap was he! The story was told of him that he could quaff10 a flagon of ale at a single gulp11. Looking at his portrait, one could not help thinking what a pitifully infinitesimal thing a flagon of ale is after all.
Morning came and with it a sullen12 determination to get down to work on my long neglected novel. I went down to breakfast. Everything about the place looked bleak and dreary13 and as grey as a granite14 tombstone. Hawkes, who but twelve hours before had seemed the embodiment of life in its most resilient form, now appeared as a drab nemesis15 with wooden legs and a frozen leer. My coffee was bitter, the peaches were like sponges, the bacon and rolls of uniform sogginess and the eggs of a strange liverish hue16. I sat there alone, gloomy and depressed17, contrasting the hateful sunshine with the soft, witching refulgence18 of twenty-four candles and the light that lies in a woman's eyes.
"A fine morning, sir," said Hawkes in a voice that seemed to come from the grave. It was the first time I had ever heard him speak so dolorously19 of the morning. Ordinarily he was a pleasant voiced fellow.
"Is it?" said I, and my voice sounded gloomier than his. I was not sure of it, but it seemed to me that he made a movement with his hand as if about to put it to his lips. Seeing that I was regarding him rather fixedly20, he allowed it to remain suspended a little above his hip8, quite on a line with the other one. His elbows were crooked21 at the proper angle I noticed, so I must have been doing him an injustice22. He couldn't have had anything disrespectful in mind.
"Send Mr. Poopendyke to me, Hawkes, immediately after I've finished my breakfast."
"Very good, sir. Oh, I beg pardon, sir. I am forgetting, Mr. Poopendyke is out. He asked me to tell you he wouldn't return before eleven."
"Out? What business has he to be out?"
"Well, sir, I mean to say, he's not precisely23 out, and he isn't just what one would call in. He is up in the—ahem!—the east wing, sir, taking down some correspondence for the—for the lady, sir."
I arose to the occasion. "Quite so, quite so. I had forgotten the appointment."
"Yes, sir, I thought you had."
"Ahem! I daresay Britton will do quite as well. Tell him to—"
"Britton, sir, has gone over to the city for the newspapers. You forget that he goes every morning as soon as he has had his—"
"Yes, yes! Certainly," I said hastily. "The papers. Ha, ha! Quite right."
It was news to me, but it wouldn't do to let him know it. The countess read the papers, I did not. I steadfastly24 persisted in ignoring the Paris edition of the New York Herald25 for fear that the delightful26 mystery might disintegrate27, so to speak, before my eyes, or become the commonplace scandal that all the world was enjoying. As it stood now, I had it all to myself—that is to say, the mystery. Mr. Poopendyke reads aloud the baseball scores to me, and nothing else.
It was nearly twelve when my secretary reported to me on this particular morning, and he seemed a trifle hazy28 as to the results of the games. After he had mumbled29 something about rain or wet grounds, I coldly enquired30:
"Mr. Poopendyke, are you employed by me or by that woman upstairs?" I would never have spoken of her as "that woman," believe me, if I had not been in a state of irritation32.
I did not repeat the question, but managed to demand rather fiercely: "Are you?"
"The countess had got dreadfully behind with her work, sir, and I thought you wouldn't mind if I helped her out a bit," he explained nervously36.
"Work? What work?"
"Her diary, sir. She is keeping a diary."
"Indeed!"
"It is very interesting, Mr. Smart. Rather beats any novel I've read lately. We—we've brought it quite up to date. I wrote at least three pages about the dinner last night. If I am to believe what she puts into her diary, it must have been a delightful occasion, as the newspapers would say."
I was somewhat mollified. "What did she have to say about it, Fred?" I asked. It always pleased him to be called Fred.
"That would be betraying a confidence," said he. "I will say this much, however: I think I wrote your name fifty times or more in connection with it."
"Rubbish!" said I.
"Not at all!" said he, with agreeable spirit.
A sudden chill came over me. "She isn't figuring on having it published, is she?"
"I can't say as to that," was his disquieting37 reply. "It wasn't any of my business, so I didn't ask."
"Oh," said I, "I see."
"I think it is safe to assume, however, that it is not meant for publication," said he. "It strikes me as being a bit too personal. There are parts of it that I don't believe she'd dare to put into print, although she reeled them off to me without so much as a blush. 'Pon my soul, Mr. Smart, I never was so embarrassed in my life. She—"
"Never mind," I interrupted hastily. "Don't tell tales out of school."
He was silent for a moment, fingering his big eyeglasses nervously. "It may please you to know that she thinks you are an exceedingly nice man."
"No, it doesn't!" I roared irascibly. "I'm damned if I like being called an exceedingly nice man."
"They were my words, sir, not hers," he explained desperately39. "I was merely putting two and two together—forming an opinion from her manner not from her words. She is very particular to mention everything you do for her, and thanks me if I call her attention to anything she may have forgotten. She certainly appreciates your kindness to the baby."
"That is extremely gratifying," said I acidly.
He hesitated once more. "Of course, you understand that the divorce itself is absolute. It's only the matter of the child that remains40 unsettled. The—"
I fairly barked at him. "What the devil do you mean by that, sir? What has the divorce got to do with it?"
"A great deal, I should say," said he, with the rare, almost superhuman patience that has made him so valuable to me.
"Upon my soul!" was all that I could say.
Hawkes rapped on the door luckily at that instant.
"The men from the telephone company are here, sir, and the electricians. Where are they to begin, sir?"
"Tell them to wait," said I. Then I hurried to the top of the east wing to ask if she had the least objection to an extension 'phone being placed in my study. She thought it would be very nice, so I returned with instructions for the men to put in three instruments: one in her room, one in mine, and one in the butler's pantry. It seemed a very jolly arrangement all 'round. As for the electric bell system, it would speak for itself.
Toward the middle of the afternoon when Mr. Poopendyke and I were hard at work on my synopsis41 we were startled by a dull, mysterious pounding on the wall hard by. We paused to listen. It was quite impossible to locate the sound, which ceased almost immediately. Our first thought was that the telephone men were drilling a hole through the wall into my study. Then came the sharp rat-a-ta-tat once more. Even as we looked about us in bewilderment, the portly facade42 of Ludwig the Red moved out of alignment43 with a heart-rending squeak44 and a long thin streak45 of black appeared at the inner edge of the frame, growing wider,—and blacker if anything,—before our startled eyes.
"Are you at home?" inquired a voice that couldn't by any means have emanated46 from the chest of Ludwig, even in his mellowest47 hours.
I leaped to my feet and started across the room with great strides. My secretary's eyes were glued to the magic portrait. His fingers, looking like claws, hung suspended over the keyboard of the typewriter.
The secret door swung quietly open, laying Ludwig's face to the wall, and in the aperture49 stood my amazing neighbour, as lovely a portrait as you'd see in a year's trip through all the galleries in the world. She was smiling down upon us from the slightly elevated position, a charming figure in the very latest Parisian hat and gown. Something grey and black and exceedingly chic50, I remember saying to Poopendyke afterwards in response to a question of his.
"I am out making afternoon calls," said she. Her face was flushed with excitement and self-consciousness. "Will you please put a chair here so that I may hop51 down?"
For answer, I reached up a pair of valiant52 arms. She laughed, leaned forward and placed her hands on my shoulders. My hands found her waist and I lifted her gently, gracefully53 to the floor.
"How strong you are!" she said admiringly. "How do you do, Mr. Poopendyke! Dear me! I am not a ghost, sir!"
His fingers dropped to the keyboard. "How do you do," he jerked out. Then he felt of his heart. "My God! I don't believe it's going."
Together we inspected the secret doors, going so far as to enter the room beyond, the Countess peering through after us from my study. To my amazement54 the room was absolutely bare. Bed, trunks, garments, chairs—everything in fact had vanished as if whisked away by an all-powerful genie55.
"What does this mean?" I cried, turning to her.
"I don't mind sleeping upstairs, now that I have a telephone," she said serenely56. "Max and Rudolph moved everything up this afternoon."
Poopendyke and I returned to the study. I, for one, was bitterly disappointed.
"I'm sorry that I had the 'phone put in," I said.
"Please don't call it a 'phone!" she objected. "I hate the word 'phone."
"So do I," said Poopendyke recklessly.
I glared at him. What right had he to criticise57 my manner of speech? He started to leave the room, after a perfunctory scramble58 to put his papers in order, but she broke off in the middle of a sentence to urge him to remain. She announced that she was calling on both of us.
"Please don't stop your work on my account," she said, and promptly59 sat down at his typewriter and began pecking at the keys. "You must teach me how to run a typewriter, Mr. Poopendyke. I shall be as poor as a church mouse before long, and I know father won't help me. I may have to become a stenographer60."
He blushed abominably61. I don't believe I've ever seen a more unattractive fellow than Poopendyke.
"Oh, every cloud has its silver lining," said he awkwardly.
"But I am used to gold," said she. The bell on the machine tinkled62. "What do I do now?" He made the shift and the space for her.
"Go right ahead," said he. She scrambled63 the whole alphabet across his neat sheet but he didn't seem to mind.
"Isn't it jolly, Mr. Smart? If Mr. Poopendyke should ever leave you, I may be able to take his place as your secretary."
I bowed very low. "You may be quite sure, Countess, that I shall dismiss Mr. Poopendyke the instant you apply for his job."
I couldn't help thinking how infinitely64 more attractive and perilous65 she would be as a typist than the excellent young woman who had married the jeweller's clerk, and what an improvement on Poopendyke!
"I came down to inquire when you would like to go exploring for buried treasure, Mr. Smart," she said, after the cylinder66 had slipped back with a bang that almost startled her out of her pretty boots and caused her to give up typewriting then and there, forevermore.
She looked herself over. "If you knew how many times this gown had to be put off till to-morrow, you wouldn't ask me to ruin it the second time I've had it on my back."
"It is an uncommonly68 attractive gown," said I.
"Shall we set to-morrow for the treasure quest?"
"To-morrow is Sunday."
"Can you think of a better way to kill it?"
"Yes, you might have me down here for an old-fashioned midday dinner."
"Capital! Why not stay for supper, too?"
"It would be too much like spending a day with relatives," she said. "We'll go treasure hunting on Monday. I haven't the faintest notion where to look, but that shouldn't make any difference. No one else ever had. By the way, Mr. Smart, I have a bone to pick with you. Have you seen yesterday's papers? Well, in one of them, there is a long account of my—of Mr. Pless's visit to your castle, and a lengthy69 interview in which you are quoted as saying that he is one of your dearest friends and a much maligned70 man who deserves the sympathy of every law-abiding citizen in the land."
"An abominable71 lie!" I cried indignantly. "Confound the newspapers!"
"Another paper says that your fortune has been placed at his disposal in the fight he is making against the criminally rich Americans. In this particular article you are quoted as saying that I am a dreadful person and not fit to have the custody72 of a child."
"Good Lord!" I gasped helplessly.
"You also expect to do everything in your power to interest the administration at Washington in his behalf."
"Well, of all the—Oh, I say, Countess, you don't believe a word of all this, do you?"
"If I thought you believed—" I began desperately, but her sudden smile relieved me of the necessity of jumping into the river. "By Jove, I shall write to these miserable74 sheets, denying every word they've printed. And what's more, I'll bring an action for damages against all of 'em. Why, it is positively atrocious! The whole world will think I despise you and—" I stopped very abruptly75 in great confusion.
"Certainly not!" I cried vehemently77. Turning to Poopendyke, I said: "Mr. Poopendyke, will you at once prepare a complete and emphatic78 denial of every da—of every word they have printed about me, and I'll send it to all the American correspondents in Europe. We'll cable it ourselves to the United States. I sha'n't rest until I am set straight in the eyes of my fellow-countrymen. The whole world shall know, Countess, that I am for you first, last and all the time. It shall know—"
"But you don't know who I am, Mr. Smart," she broke in, her cheeks very warm and rosy79. "How can you publicly espouse80 the cause of one whose name you refuse to have mentioned in your presence?"
I dismissed her question with a wave of the hand: "Poopendyke can supply the name after I have signed the statement. I give him carte blanche. The name has nothing to do with the case, so far as I am concerned. Write it, Fred, and make it strong."
She came up to me and held out her hand. "I knew you would do it," she said softly. "Thanks."
I bent81 low over the gloved little hand. "Don Quixote was a happy gentleman, Countess, with all his idiosyncrasies, and so am I."
She not only came for dinner with us on Sunday, but made the dressing82 for my alligator83 pear salad. We were besieged84 by the usual crowd of Sunday sight-seers, who came clamouring at our staunch, reinforced gates, and anathematised me soundly for refusing admission. One bourgeoise party of fifteen refused to leave the plaza85 until their return fares on the ferry barge86 were paid stoutly87 maintaining that they had come over in good faith and wouldn't leave until I had reimbursed88 them to the extent of fifty hellers apiece, ferry fare. I sent Britton out with the money. He returned with the rather disquieting news that he had recognised two of Mr. Pless's secret agents in the mob.
"I wonder if he suspects that I am here," said the Countess paling perceptibly when I mentioned the presence of the two men.
"It doesn't matter," said I. "He can't get into the castle while the gates are locked, and, by Jove, I intend to keep them locked."
"What a delightful ogre you are, Mr. Smart," said she.
Nevertheless, I did not sleep well that night. The presence of the two detectives outside my gates was not to be taken too lightly. Unquestionably they had got wind of something that aroused suspicion in their minds. I confidently expected them to reappear in the morning, perhaps disguised as workmen. Nor were my fears wholly unjustified.
"I beg your pardon, Mr. Smart," he said in fairly good English, "may I have a word with you? I have a message from Mr. Pless." I don't believe he observed the look of concern that flitted across my face.
"From Mr. Pless?" I inquired, simulating surprise. Then I looked him over so curiously91 that he laughed in a quiet, simple way.
"I am an agent of the secret service," he explained coolly. "Yesterday I failed to gain admission as a visitor, to-day I come as a labourer. We work in a mysterious way, sir."
"Is it necessary for Mr. Pless to resort to a subterfuge92 of this character in order to get a message to me?" I demanded indignantly.
"It was not necessary yesterday, but it is to-day," said he. He leaned closer and lowered his voice. "Our every movement is being watched by the Countess's detectives. We are obliged to resort to trickery to throw them off the scent94. Mr. Pless has read what you had to say in the newspapers and he is too grateful, sir, to subject you to unnecessary annoyance95 at the hands of her agents. Your friendship is sacred to him. He realises that it means a great deal to have the support of one so powerful with the United States government. If we are to work together, Mr. Smart, in bringing this woman to justice, it must be managed with extreme skill or her family may—"
"What is this you are saying?" I broke in, scarcely able to believe my ears.
"I speak English so badly," he apologised. "Perhaps I should do no more than to give you his message. He would have you to meet him secretly to-night at the Rempf Hotel across the river. It is most important that you should do so, and that you should exercise great caution. I am to take your reply back to him."
For an instant I was fairly stupefied. Then I experienced a feeling of relief so vast that he must have seen the gleam of triumph in my eyes. The trick was mine, after all.
"Come into my study," I said. He followed me upstairs and into the room. Poopendyke was there. "This is my secretary, you may speak freely before him." Turning to Poopendyke, I said: "You have not sent that statement to the newspapers, have you? Well, let it rest for a day or two. Mr. Pless has sent a representative to see me." I scowled96 at my secretary, and he had the sense to hide his astonishment98.
The fellow repeated what he had said before, and added a few instructions which I was to follow with care if I would do Mr. Pless the honour to wait upon him that evening at the Rempf Hotel.
"You may tell Mr. Pless that I shall be there at nine," said I. The agent departed. When he was safely out of the room, I explained the situation to Poopendyke, and then made my way through the secret panels to the Countess's rooms.
She was ready for the subterranean99 journey in quest of treasure, attired100 in a neat walking skirt, with her bonny hair encased in a swimming cap as a guard against cobwebs.
"Then you don't intend to send out the statements?" she cried in disappointment. "You are going to let every one think you are his friend and not mine?"
I was greatly elated. Her very unreasonableness101 was a prize that I could not fail to cherish.
"Only for the time being," I said eagerly. "Don't you see the advantage we gain by fooling him? Why, it is splendid—positively splendid!"
She pouted102. "I don't feel at all sure of you now, Mr. Smart," she said, sitting down rather dejectedly in a chair near the fireplace. "I believe you are ready to turn against me. You want to be rid of me. I am a nuisance, a source of trouble to you. You will tell him that I am here—"
I stood over her, trying my best to scowl97. "You know better than that. You know I—I am as loyal as—as can be. Hang it all," I burst out impulsively103, "do you suppose for a minute that I want to hand you over to that infernal rascal104, now that I've come to—that is to say, now that we're such ripping good friends?"
She looked up at me very pathetically at first. Then her expression changed swiftly to one of wonder and the most penetrating105 inquiry106. Slowly a flush crept into her cheeks and her eyes wavered.
"I—I think I can trust you to—to do the right thing by me," she said, descending107 to a banality108 in her confusion.
I held out my hand. She laid hers in it rather timidly, almost as if she was afraid of me. "I shall not fail you," said I without the faintest intention to be heroic but immediately conscious of having used an expression so trite109 that my cheek flamed with humiliation110.
For some unaccountable reason she arose hastily from the chair and walked to the window. A similar reason, no doubt, held me rooted rather safely to the spot on which I stood. I have a vague recollection of feeling dizzy and rather short of breath. My heart was acting111 queerly.
"Why do you suppose he wants to see you?" she asked, after a moment, turning toward me again. She was as calm as a summer breeze. All trace of nervousness had left her.
"I can't even supply a guess."
"You must be very, very tactful," she said uneasily. "I know him so well. He is very cunning."
"I am accustomed to dealing112 with villains," said I. "They always come to a bad end in my books, and virtue113 triumphs."
"But this isn't a book," she protested. "Besides virtue never triumphs in an international marriage. You must come—to see me to-night after you return from town. I won't sleep until I've heard everything."
"I may be very late," I said, contriving114 to hide my eagerness pretty well, I thought.
"I shall wait for you, Mr. Smart," she said, very distinctly. I took it as a command and bowed in submission115. "There is no one here to gossip, so we may be as careless as we please about appearances. You will be hungry, too, when you come in. I shall have a nice supper ready for you." She frowned faintly. "You must not, under any circumstance, spoil everything by having supper with him."
"Again I repeat, you may trust me implicitly116 to do the right thing," said I beamingly. "And now, what do you say to our trip to the bottom of the castle?"
She shook her head. "Not with the house full of spies, my dear friend. We'll save that for another day. A rainy day perhaps. I feel like having all the sunshine I can get to-day. To-night I shall be gloomy and very lonely. I shall take Rosemary and Jinko out upon the top of the tower and play all day in the sun."
I had an idea. "I am sure I should enjoy a little sunshine myself. May I come too?"
"Not to-day, Mr. Smart."
A most unfathomable person!
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1
bowels
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| n.肠，内脏，内部；肠( bowel的名词复数 )；内部，最深处 | |
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bleak
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| adj.(天气)阴冷的；凄凉的；暗淡的 | |
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drawn
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| v.拖，拉，拔出；adj.憔悴的，紧张的 | |
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enchanted
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| 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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persistently
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| ad.坚持地；固执地 | |
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attentive
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| adj.注意的，专心的；关心(别人)的，殷勤的 | |
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alas
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| int.唉(表示悲伤、忧愁、恐惧等) | |
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hip
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| n.臀部，髋；屋脊 | |
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crimson
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| n./adj.深(绯)红色(的)；vi.脸变绯红色 | |
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quaff
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| v.一饮而尽；痛饮 | |
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gulp
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| vt.吞咽，大口地吸（气）；vi.哽住；n.吞咽 | |
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sullen
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| adj.愠怒的，闷闷不乐的，(天气等)阴沉的 | |
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dreary
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| adj.令人沮丧的，沉闷的，单调乏味的 | |
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granite
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| adj.花岗岩，花岗石 | |
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nemesis
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| n.给以报应者，复仇者，难以对付的敌手 | |
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hue
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| n.色度；色调；样子 | |
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depressed
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| adj.沮丧的，抑郁的，不景气的，萧条的 | |
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refulgence
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| n.辉煌，光亮 | |
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dolorously
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| adj. 悲伤的；痛苦的；悲哀的；阴沉的 | |
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fixedly
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| adv.固定地；不屈地，坚定不移地 | |
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crooked
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| adj.弯曲的；不诚实的，狡猾的，不正当的 | |
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injustice
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| n.非正义，不公正，不公平，侵犯（别人的）权利 | |
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precisely
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| adv.恰好，正好，精确地，细致地 | |
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steadfastly
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| adv.踏实地，不变地；岿然；坚定不渝 | |
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herald
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| vt.预示...的来临，预告，宣布，欢迎 | |
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delightful
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| adj.令人高兴的，使人快乐的 | |
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disintegrate
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| v.瓦解，解体，（使）碎裂，（使）粉碎 | |
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hazy
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| adj.有薄雾的，朦胧的；不肯定的，模糊的 | |
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mumbled
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| 含糊地说某事，叽咕，咕哝( mumble的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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enquired
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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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irritation
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| n.激怒，恼怒，生气 | |
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positively
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| adv.明确地，断然，坚决地；实在，确实 | |
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stunned
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| adj. 震惊的，惊讶的 动词stun的过去式和过去分词 | |
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gasped
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| v.喘气( gasp的过去式和过去分词 )；喘息；倒抽气；很想要 | |
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nervously
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| adv.神情激动地，不安地 | |
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37
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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38
ass
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| n.驴；傻瓜，蠢笨的人 | |
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39
desperately
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| adv.极度渴望地，绝望地，孤注一掷地 | |
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40
remains
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| n.剩余物，残留物；遗体，遗迹 | |
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41
synopsis
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| n.提要，梗概 | |
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42
facade
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| n.(建筑物的)正面，临街正面；外表 | |
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43
alignment
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| n.队列；结盟，联合 | |
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44
squeak
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| n.吱吱声，逃脱；v.（发出）吱吱叫，侥幸通过；（俚）告密 | |
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45
streak
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| n.条理，斑纹，倾向，少许，痕迹；v.加条纹，变成条纹，奔驰，快速移动 | |
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46
emanated
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| v.从…处传出，传出( emanate的过去式和过去分词 )；产生，表现，显示 | |
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47
mellowest
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| 成熟的( mellow的最高级 )； （水果）熟透的； （颜色或声音）柔和的； 高兴的 | |
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48
harry
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| vt.掠夺，蹂躏，使苦恼 | |
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49
aperture
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| n.孔，隙，窄的缺口 | |
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50
chic
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| n./adj.别致(的)，时髦(的)，讲究的 | |
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51
hop
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| n.单脚跳，跳跃；vi.单脚跳，跳跃；着手做某事；vt.跳跃，跃过 | |
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52
valiant
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| adj.勇敢的，英勇的；n.勇士，勇敢的人 | |
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53
gracefully
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| ad.大大方方地；优美地 | |
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54
amazement
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| n.惊奇，惊讶 | |
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55
genie
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| n.妖怪，神怪 | |
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56
serenely
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| adv.安详地，宁静地，平静地 | |
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57
criticise
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| v.批评，评论；非难 | |
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58
scramble
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| v.爬行，攀爬，杂乱蔓延，碎片，片段，废料 | |
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59
promptly
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| adv.及时地，敏捷地 | |
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60
stenographer
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| n.速记员 | |
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61
abominably
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| adv. 可恶地，可恨地，恶劣地 | |
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62
tinkled
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| （使）发出丁当声，（使）发铃铃声( tinkle的过去式和过去分词 )； 叮当响着发出，铃铃响着报出 | |
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63
scrambled
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| v.快速爬行( scramble的过去式和过去分词 )；攀登；争夺；（军事飞机）紧急起飞 | |
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64
infinitely
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| adv.无限地，无穷地 | |
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65
perilous
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| adj.危险的，冒险的 | |
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66
cylinder
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| n.圆筒，柱(面)，汽缸 | |
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67
glibly
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| adv.流利地，流畅地；满口 | |
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68
uncommonly
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| adv. 稀罕(极，非常) | |
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69
lengthy
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| adj.漫长的，冗长的 | |
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70
maligned
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| vt.污蔑，诽谤（malign的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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71
abominable
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| adj.可厌的，令人憎恶的 | |
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72
custody
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| n.监护，照看，羁押，拘留 | |
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73
pensively
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| adv.沉思地，焦虑地 | |
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74
miserable
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| adj.悲惨的，痛苦的；可怜的，糟糕的 | |
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abruptly
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| adv.突然地，出其不意地 | |
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76
queried
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| v.质疑，对…表示疑问( query的过去式和过去分词 )；询问 | |
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vehemently
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| adv. 热烈地 | |
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78
emphatic
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| adj.强调的，着重的；无可置疑的，明显的 | |
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79
rosy
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| adj.美好的，乐观的，玫瑰色的 | |
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80
espouse
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| v.支持，赞成，嫁娶 | |
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81
bent
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| n.爱好，癖好；adj.弯的；决心的，一心的 | |
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82
dressing
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| n.(食物)调料；包扎伤口的用品，敷料 | |
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83
alligator
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| n.短吻鳄(一种鳄鱼) | |
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84
besieged
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| 包围，围困，围攻( besiege的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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85
plaza
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| n.广场，市场 | |
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86
barge
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| n.平底载货船，驳船 | |
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87
stoutly
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| adv.牢固地，粗壮的 | |
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88
reimbursed
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| v.偿还，付还( reimburse的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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89
overalls
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| n.（复）工装裤；长罩衣 | |
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90
accosted
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| 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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91
curiously
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| adv.有求知欲地；好问地；奇特地 | |
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92
subterfuge
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| n.诡计；藉口 | |
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93
shrugged
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| vt.耸肩（shrug的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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94
scent
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| n.气味，香味，香水，线索，嗅觉；v.嗅，发觉 | |
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95
annoyance
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| n.恼怒，生气，烦恼 | |
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96
scowled
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| 怒视，生气地皱眉( scowl的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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97
scowl
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| vi.(at)生气地皱眉，沉下脸，怒视；n.怒容 | |
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98
astonishment
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| n.惊奇，惊异 | |
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99
subterranean
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| adj.地下的，地表下的 | |
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100
attired
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| adj.穿着整齐的v.使穿上衣服，使穿上盛装( attire的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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101
unreasonableness
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| 无理性； 横逆 | |
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102
pouted
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| v.撅（嘴）( pout的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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103
impulsively
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| adv.冲动地 | |
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104
rascal
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| n.流氓；不诚实的人 | |
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105
penetrating
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| adj.（声音）响亮的，尖锐的adj.（气味）刺激的adj.（思想）敏锐的，有洞察力的 | |
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106
inquiry
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| n.打听，询问，调查，查问 | |
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107
descending
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| n. 下行 adj. 下降的 | |
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108
banality
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| n.陈腐；平庸；陈词滥调 | |
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109
trite
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| adj.陈腐的 | |
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110
humiliation
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| n.羞辱 | |
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111
acting
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| n.演戏，行为，假装；adj.代理的，临时的，演出用的 | |
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112
dealing
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| n.经商方法，待人态度 | |
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113
virtue
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| n.德行，美德；贞操；优点；功效，效力 | |
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114
contriving
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| （不顾困难地）促成某事( contrive的现在分词 )； 巧妙地策划，精巧地制造（如机器）； 设法做到 | |
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115
submission
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| n.服从，投降；温顺，谦虚；提出 | |
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116
implicitly
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| adv. 含蓄地, 暗中地, 毫不保留地 | |
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