There was a rousing smell of roasted coffee pervading5 the place. A sleepy German waiter first came up and glanced sullenly6 at the mud-tracks we left upon the floor; then he allowed his insulting gaze to trail our progress to the lunch counter by means of a perfect torrent7 of rain-water drippings. He went out of the room grumbling8, to return a moment later with a huge mop. Thereupon he ordered us out of the place, standing10 ready with the mop to begin the cleansing11 process the instant we vacated the stools. It was quite clear to both of us that he wanted to begin operations at the exact spot where we were standing.
"Coffee for two," said I, in German. To me anything uttered in the German language sounds gruff and belligerent12, no matter how gentle its meaning. That amiable13 sentence: "Ich liebe dich" is no exception; to me it sounds relentless14. I am confident that I asked for coffee in a very mild and ingratiating tone, in direct contrast to his command to get out, and was somewhat ruffled15 by his stare of speechless rage.
The fellow began mopping around my feet—in fact, he went so far as to mop the tops of them and a little way up my left leg in his efforts to make a good, clean job of it.
"Stop that!" I growled16, kicking at the mop. Before I could get my foot back on the floor he skilfully17 swabbed the spot where it had been resting, a feat18 of celerity that I have never seen surpassed. "Damn it, don't!" I roared, backing away. The resolute19 mop followed me like the spectre of want. Fascinated, I found myself retreating to the doorway20.
Britton, resourceful fellow, put an end to his endeavours by jumping upon the mop and pinning it to the floor very much as he would have stamped upon a wounded rat.
The fellow called out lustily to some one in the kitchen, at the same time giving the mop handle a mighty21 jerk. If you are expecting me to say that Britton came to woe22, you are doomed23 to disappointment. It was just the other way about. Just as the prodigious24 yank took place, my valet hopped25 nimbly from the mop, and the waiter sat down with a stunning26 thud.
I do not know what might have ensued had not the proprietress of the place appeared at that instant, coming from the kitchen. She was the cook as well, and she was large enough to occupy the space of at least three Brittons. She was huge beyond description.
I shall not attempt to describe in detail all that followed. It is only necessary to state that she removed the mop from the hands of the quaking menial and fairly swabbed him out into the thick of the rainstorm.
While we were drinking our hot, steaming coffee and gorging28 ourselves with frankfurters, the poor wretch29 stood under the eaves with his face glued to the window, looking in at us with mournful eyes while the drippings from the tiles poured upon his shoulders and ran in rivulets30 down his neck. I felt so sorry for him that I prevailed upon the muttering, apologetic hostess to take him in again. She called him in as she might have called a dog, and he edged his way past her with the same scared, alert look in his eyes that one always sees in those of an animal that has its tail between its legs.
She explained that he was her nephew, just off the farm. Her sister's son, she said, and naturally not as intelligent as he ought to be.
While we were sitting there at the counter, a train roared past the little station. We rushed to the door in alarm. But it shot through at the rate of fifty miles an hour. I looked at my watch. It still wanted half-an-hour of train time, according to the schedule.
"It was the express, mein herr," explained the woman. "It never stops. We are too small yet. Some time we may be big enough." I noticed that her eyes were fixed31 in some perplexity on the old clock above the pie shelves. "Ach! But it has never been so far ahead of time as to-night. It is not due for fifteen minutes yet, and here it is gone yet."
"Perhaps your clock is slow," I said. "My watch says four minutes to twelve."
Whereupon she heaped a tirade32 of abuse upon the shrinking Hans for letting the clock lose ten minutes of her valuable time. To make sure, Hans set it forward nearly half an hour while she was looking the other way. Then he began mopping the floor again.
At half-past twelve the train from Munich drew up at the station, panted awhile in evident disdain33, and then moved on.
We made a careful and extensive search of the station, the platform and even the surrounding neighbourhood, but it was quite evident that they had not left the train. Here was a pretty pass! Britton, however, had the rather preposterous35 idea that there might be another train a little later on. It did not seem at all likely, but we made inquiries36 of the station agent. To my surprise—and to Britton's infernal British delight—there was a fast train, with connections from the north, arriving in half an hour. It was, however, an hour late, owing to the storm.
"Do you mean that it will arrive at two o'clock?" I demanded in dismay.
"No, no," said the guard; "it will arrive at one but not until two. It is late, mein herr."
We dozed37 in the little waiting-room for what I consider to be the longest hour I've ever known, and then hunted up the guard once more. He blandly38 informed me that it was still an hour late.
"An hour from now?" I asked.
"An hour from two," said he, pityingly. What ignorant lummixes we were!
Just ten minutes before three the obliging guard came in and roused us from a mild sleep.
"The train is coming, mein herr."
"Thank God!"
"But I neglected to mention that it is an express and never stops here."
My right hand was still in a bandage, but it was so nearly healed that I could have used it without discomfort—(note my ability to drive a motor car)—and it was with the greatest difficulty that I restrained a mad, devilish impulse to strike that guard full upon the nose, from which the raindrops coursed in an interrupted descent from the visor of his cap.
The shrill39, childish whistle of the locomotive reached us at that instant. A look of wonder sprang into the eyes of the guard.
"It—it is going to stop, mein herr," he cried. "Gott in himmel! It has never stopped before." He rushed out upon the platform in a great state of agitation40, and we trailed along behind him, even more excited than he.
It was still raining, but not so hard. The glare of the headlight was upon us for an instant and then, passing, left us in blinding darkness. The brakes creaked, the wheels grated and at last the train came to a standstill. For one horrible moment I thought it was going on through in spite of its promissory signal. Britton went one way and I the other, with our umbrellas ready. Up and down the line of wagon41 lits we raced. A conductor stepped down from the last coach but one, and prepared to assist a passenger to alight. I hastened up to him.
"Permit me," I said, elbowing him aside.
A portly lady squeezed through the vestibule and felt her way carefully down the steps. Behind her was a smallish, bewhiskered man, trying to raise an umbrella inside the narrow corridor, a perfectly42 impossible feat.
She came down into my arms with the limpness of one who is accustomed to such attentions, and then wheeled instantly upon the futile43 individual on the steps above.
"Quick! My hat! Heaven preserve us, how it rains!" she cried, in a deep, wheezy voice and—in German!
"Moth—" I began insinuatingly44, but the sacred word died unfinished on my lips. The next instant I was scurrying45 down the platform to where I saw Britton standing.
"Have you seen them?" I shouted wildly.
"No, sir. Not a sign, sir. Ah! See!"
"No!" I rasped out. "By no possible stretch of the imagination can that be Mrs. Titus. Come! We must ask the conductor. That woman? Good Lord, Britton, she waddles47!"
The large lady and the smallish man passed us on the way to shelter, the latter holding an umbrella over her hat with one hand and lugging48 a heavy hamper49 in the other. They were both exclaiming in German. The station guard and the conductor were bowing and scraping in their wake, both carrying boxes and bundles.
"Any one else getting off here?" I demanded in English and at once repeated it in German.
He shook himself loose, dropped the bags in the shelter of the station house, doffed51 his cap to the imperious backs of his late passengers, and scuttled52 back to the car. A moment later the train was under way.
"Can you not see for yourself?" he shouted from the steps as he passed me by.
Once more I swooped53 down upon the guard. He was stuffing the large German lady into a small, lopsided carriage, the driver of which was taking off his cap and putting it on again after the manner of a mechanical toy.
"Go away," hissed54 the guard angrily. "This is the Mayor and the Mayoress. Stand aside! Can't you see?"
Presently the Mayor and the Mayoress were snugly56 stowed away in the creaking hack57, and it rattled58 away over the cobblestones.
"When does the next train get in?" I asked for the third time. He was still bowing after the departing hack.
"Eh? The next? Oh, mein herr, is it you?"
"Yes, it is still I. Is there another train soon?"
"That was Mayor Berg and his wife," he said, taking off his cap again in a sort of ecstasy59. "The express stops for him, eh? Ha! It stops for no one else but our good Mayor. When he commands it to stop it stops—"
"Answer my question," I thundered, "or I shall report you to the Mayor!"
"Ach, Gott!" he gasped60. Collecting his thoughts, he said: "There is no train until nine o'clock in the morning. Nine, mein herr."
"Jah! You can go home now and go to bed, sir. There will be no train until nine and I will not be on duty then. Good night!"
Britton led me into the waiting-room, where I sat down and glared at him as if he were to blame for everything connected with our present plight62.
"I daresay we'd better be starting 'ome, sir," said he timidly. "Something 'as gone wrong with the plans, I fear. They did not come, sir."
"Do you think I am blind?" I roared.
"Not at all, sir," he said in haste, taking a step or two backward.
Inquiries at the little eating-house only served to verify the report of the station-guard. There would be no train before nine o'clock, and that was a very slow one; what we would call a "local" in the States. Sometimes, according to the proprietress, it was so slow that it didn't get in at all. It had been known to amble63 in as late as one in the afternoon, but when it happened to be later than that it ceased to have an identity of its own and came in as a part of the two o'clock train. Moreover, it carried nothing but third-class carriages and more often than not it had as many as a dozen freight cars attached.
There was not the slightest probability that the fastidious Mrs. Titus would travel by such a train, so we were forced to the conclusion that something had gone wrong with the plans. Very dismally64 we prepared for the long drive home. What could have happened to upset the well-arranged plan? Were Tarnowsy's spies so hot upon the trail that it was necessary for her to abandon the attempt to enter my castle? In that case, she must have sent some sort of a message to her daughter, apprising65 her of the unexpected change; a message which, unhappily for me, arrived after my departure. It was not likely that she would have altered her plans without letting us know, and yet I could not shake off an exasperating66 sense of doubt. If I were to believe all that Bangs said about the excellent lady, it would not be unlike her to do quite as she pleased in the premises67 without pausing to consider the comfort or the convenience of any one else interested in the undertaking68. A selfish desire to spend the day in Lucerne might have overtaken her en passant, and the rest of us could go hang for all that she cared about consequences!
I am ashamed to confess that the longer I considered the matter, the more plausible69 this view of the situation appeared to me. By the time we succeeded in starting the engine, after cranking for nearly half an hour, I was so consumed by wrath70 over the scurvy71 trick she had played upon us that I swore she should not enter my castle if I could prevent it; moreover, I would take fiendish delight in dumping her confounded luggage into the Danube.
I confided72 my views to Britton who was laboriously73 cranking the machine and telling me between grunts74 that the "bloody75 water 'ad got into it," and we both resorted to painful but profound excoriations without in the least departing from our relative positions as master and man: he swore about one abomination and I another, but the gender76 was undeviatingly the same.
We also had trouble with the lamps.
At last we were off, Britton at the wheel. I shall not describe that diabolical77 trip home. It is only necessary to say that we first lost our way and went ten or twelve kilometers in the wrong direction; then we had a blow-out and no quick-detachable rim2; subsequently something went wrong with the mud-caked machinery78 and my unfortunate valet had to lie on his back in a puddle79 for half an hour; eventually we sneaked80 into the garage with our trembling Mercedes, and quarrelled manfully with the men who had to wash her.
"Great heaven, Britton!" I groaned, stopping short in my sloshy progress down the narrow street that led to the ferry.
He looked at me in astonishment81. I admit that the ejaculation must have sounded weak and effeminate to him after what had gone before.
"What is it, sir?" he asked, at once resuming his status as a servant after a splendid hiatus of five hours or more in which he had enjoyed all of the by-products of equality.
"Poopendyke!" I exclaimed, aghast. "I have just thought of him. The poor devil has been waiting for us three miles up the river since midnight! What do you think of that!"
"No such luck, sir," said he, grumpily.
"I beg pardon, sir. I mean to say, he could sit in the boat 'ouse and twiddle 'is thumbs at the elements, sir. Trust Mr. Poopendyke to keep out of the rain."
"In any event, he is still waiting there for us, wet or dry. He and the two big Schmicks." I took a moment for thought. "We must telephone to the castle and have Hawkes send Conrad out with word to them." I looked at my watch. It was twenty minutes past seven. "I suppose no one in the castle went to bed last night. Good Lord, what a scene for a farce83!"
We retraced84 our steps to the garage, where Britton went to the telephone. I stood in the doorway of the building, staring gloomily, hollow-eyed at the—well, at nothing, now that I stop to think of it. The manager of the place, an amiable, jocund85 descendant of Lazarus, approached me.
"Quite a storm last night, Mr. Schmarck," he said, rubbing his hands on an oil-rag. I gruffly agreed with him in a monosyllable. "But it is lovely to-day, sir. Heavenly, sir."
"Heavenly?" I gasped.
"Ah, but look at the glorious sun," he cried, waving the oil-rag in all directions at once.
The sun! Upon my word, the sun was shining fiercely. I hadn't noticed it before. The tops of the little red-tiled houses down the street glistened86 in the glare of sunshine that met my gaze as I looked up at them. Suddenly I remembered that I had witnessed the sunrise, a most doleful, dreary87 phenomenon that overtook us ten miles down the valley. I had seen it but it had made no impression on my tortured mind. The great god of day had sprung up out of the earth to smile upon me—or at me—and I had let him go unnoticed, so black and desolate88 was the memory of the night he destroyed! I had only a vague recollection of the dawn. The thing that caused me the most concern was the discovery that we had run the last half of our journey in broad daylight with our acetylene lamps going full blast. I stared at the tiles, blinking and unbelieving.
"Well, I'm—dashed," I said, with a silly grin.
"The moon will shine to-night, Mr. Schmarck—" he began insinuatingly.
"Smart, if you please," I snapped.
"Ah," he sighed, rolling his eyes, "it is fine to be in love."
A full minute passed before I grasped the meaning of that soft answer, and then it was too late. He had gone about his business without waiting to see whether my wrath had been turned away. I had been joy-riding!
The excitement in Britton's usually imperturbable89 countenance90 as he came running up to me from the telephone closet prepared me in a way for the startling news that was to come.
"Has anything serious happened?" I cried, my heart sinking a little lower.
"I had Mr. Poopendyke himself on the wire, sir. What do you think, sir?"
A premonition! "She—she has arrived?" I demanded dully.
He nodded. "She 'as, sir. Mrs.—your mother, sir, is in your midst." The proximity91 of the inquisitive92 manager explains this extraordinary remark on the part of my valet. We both glared at the manager and he had the delicacy93 to move away. "She arrived by a special train at twelve lawst night, sir."
I was speechless. The brilliant sunshine seemed to be turning into sombre night before my eyes; everything was going black.
"She's asleep, he says, and doesn't want to be disturbed till noon, so he says he can't say anything more just now over the telephone because he's afraid of waking 'er." (Britton drops them when excited.)
"He doesn't have to shout so loud that he can be heard on the top floor," said I, still a trifle dazed.
"She 'appens to be sleeping in your bed, sir, he says."
"In my bed? Good heavens, Britton! What's to become of me?"
"Don't take it so 'ard, sir," he made haste to say. "Blatchford 'as fixed a place for you on the couch in your study, sir. It's all very snug55, sir."
"But, Britton," I said in horror, "suppose that I should have come home last night. Don't you see?"
"I daresay she 'ad the door locked, sir," he said.
"By special train," I mumbled94. A light broke in upon my reviving intellect. "Why, it was the train that went through at a mile a minute while we were in the coffee-house. No wonder we didn't meet her!"
"I shudder95 to think of wot would 'ave 'appened if we had, sir," said he, meaning no doubt to placate96 me. "Mr. Poopendyke says the Countess 'as been up all night worrying about you, sir. She has been distracted. She wanted 'im to go out and search for you at four o'clock this morning, but he says he assured 'er you'd turn up all right. He says Mrs.—the elderly lady, begging your pardon, sir,—thought she was doing for the best when she took a special. She wanted to save us all the trouble she could. He says she was very much distressed97 by our failure to 'ave some one meet her with a launch when she got here last night, sir. As it was, she didn't reach the castle until nearly one, and she looked like a drowned rat when she got there, being hex—exposed to a beastly rainstorm. See wot I mean? She went to bed in a dreadful state, he says, but he thinks she'll be more pleasant before the day is over."
I burst into a fit of laughter. "Hurray!" I shouted, exultantly98. "So she was out in it too, eh? Well, by Jove, I don't feel half as badly as I did five minutes ago. Come! Let us be off."
We started briskly down the street. My spirits were beginning to rebound99. Poopendyke had said that she worried all night about me! She had been distracted! Poor little woman! Still I was glad to know that she had the grace to sit up and worry instead of going to sleep as she might have done. I was just mean enough to be happy over it.
Poopendyke met us on the town side of the river. He seemed a trifle haggard, I thought. He was not slow, on the other hand, to announce in horror-struck tones that I looked like a ghost.
"You must get those wet clothes off at once, Mr. Smart, and go to bed with a hot water bottle and ten grains of quinine. You'll be very ill if you don't. Put a lot more elbow grease into those oars100, Max. Get a move on you. Do you want Mr. Smart to die of pneumonia101?"
While we were crossing the muddy river, my secretary, his teeth chattering102 with cold and excitement combined, related the story of the night.
"We were just starting off for the boat-house up the river, according to plans, Max and Rudolph and I with the two boats, when the Countess came down in a mackintosh and a pair of gum boots and insisted upon going along with us. She said it wasn't fair to make you do all the work, and all that sort of thing, and I was having the devil's own time to induce her to go back to the castle with Mr. Bangs. While we were arguing with her,—and it was getting so late that I feared we wouldn't be in time to meet you,—we heard some one shouting on the opposite side of the river. The voice sounded something like Britton's, and the Countess insisted that there had been an accident and that you were hurt, Mr. Smart, and nothing would do but we must send Max and Rudolph over to see what the trouble was. It was raining cats and dogs, and I realised that it would be impossible for you to get a boatman on that side at that hour of the night,—it was nearly one,—so I sent the two Schmicks across. I've never seen a night as dark as it was. The two little lanterns bobbing in the boat could hardly be seen through the torrents103 of rain, and it was next to impossible to see the lights on the opposite landing stage—just a dull, misty104 glow.
"To make the story short, Mrs. Titus and her sons were over there, with absolutely no means of crossing the river. There were no boatmen, the ferry had stopped, and they were huddled105 under the eaves of the wharf106 building. Everything was closed and locked up for the night. The night-watchman and a policeman lit the pier107 lamps for them, but that's as far as they'd go. It took two trips over to fetch the whole party across. Raining pitchforks all the time, you understand. Mrs. Titus was foaming108 at the mouth because you don't own a yacht or at least a launch with a canopy109 top, or a limousine110 body, or something of the sort.
"I didn't have much of a chance to converse111 with her. The Countess tried to get her upstairs in the east wing but she wouldn't climb another step. I forgot to mention that the windlass was out of order and she had to climb the hill in mud six inches deep. The Schmicks carried her the last half of the distance. She insisted on sleeping in the hall or the study,—anywhere but upstairs. I assumed the responsibility of putting her in your bed, sir. It was either that or—"
I broke in sarcastically112 "You couldn't have put her into your bed, I suppose."
"Not very handily, Mr. Smart," he said in an injured voice. "One of her sons occupied my bed. Of course, it was all right, because I didn't intend to go to bed, as it happened. The older son went upstairs with the Countess. She gave up her bed to him, and then she and I sat up all night in the study waiting for a telephone message from you. The younger son explained a good many things to us that his mother absolutely refused to discuss, she was so mad when she got here. It seems she took it into her head at the last minute to charter a special train, but forgot to notify us of the switch in the plans. She travelled by the regular train from Paris to some place along the line, where she got out and waited for the special which was following along behind, straight through from Paris, too. A woeful waste of money, it seemed to me. Her idea was to throw a couple of plain-clothes men off the track, and, by George, sir, she succeeded. They thought she was changing from a train to some place in Switzerland, and went off to watch the other station. Then she sneaked aboard the special, which was chartered clear through to Vienna. See how clever she is? If they followed on the next train, or telegraphed, it would naturally be to Vienna. She got off at this place and—well, we have her with us, sir, as snug as a bug113 in a rug."
"What is she like, Fred?" I inquired. I confess that I hung on his reply.
"I have never seen a wet hen, but I should say, on a guess, that she's a good bit like one. Perhaps when she's thoroughly114 dried out she may not be so bad, but—" He drew a long, deep breath. "But, upon my word of honour, she was the limit last night. Of course one couldn't expect her to be exactly gracious, with her hair plastered over her face and her hat spoiled and her clothes soaked, but there was really no excuse for some of the things she said to me. I shall overlook them for your sake and for the Countess's." He was painfully red in the face.
"But, hang it all, I was as wet as she was," he exploded, so violently that I knew his soul must have been tried to the utmost.
"We must try to make the best of it," I said. "It will not be for long." The thought of it somehow sent my heart back to its lowest level.
He was glum117 and silent for a few minutes. Then he said, as if the thought had been on his mind for some hours: "She isn't a day over forty-five. It doesn't seem possible, with a six-foot son twenty-six years old."
Grimly I explained. "They marry quite young when it's for money, Fred."
"I suppose that's it," he sighed. "I fancy she's handsome, too, when she hasn't been rained upon."
We were half way up the slope when he announced nervously118 that all of my dry clothing was in the closet off my bedroom and could not be got at under any circumstance.
"But," he said, "I have laid out my best frock coat and trousers for you, and a complete change of linen119. You are quite welcome to anything I possess, Mr. Smart. I think if you take a couple of rolls at the bottom of the trousers, they'll be presentable. The coat may be a little long for you, but—"
My loud laughter cut him short.
I had a secret hope that the Countess would be in the courtyard to welcome me, but I was disappointed. Old Gretel met me and wept over me, as if I was not already sufficiently121 moist. The chef came running out to say that breakfast would be ready for me when I desired it; Blatchford felt of my coat sleeve and told me that I was quite wet; Hawkes had two large, steaming toddies waiting for us in the vestibule, apparently122 fearing that we could get no farther without the aid of a stimulant123. But there was no sign of a single Titus.
Later I ventured forth124 in Poopendyke's best suit of clothes—the one he uses when he passes the plate on Sundays in far-away Yonkers. It smelled of moth-balls, but it was gloriously dry, so why carp! We sneaked down the corridor past my own bedroom door and stole into the study.
Just inside the door, I stopped in amazement125. The Countess was sound asleep in my big armchair, a forlorn but lovely thing in a pink peignoir. Her rumpled126 brown hair nestled in the angle of the chair; her hands drooped127 listlessly at her sides; dark lashes128 lay upon the soft white cheeks; her lips were parted ever so slightly, and her bosom129 rose and fell in the long swell130 of perfect repose131.
Poopendyke clutched me by the arm and drew me toward the door, or I might have stood there transfixed for heaven knows how long.
"She's asleep," he whispered.
It was the second time in twelve hours that some one had intimated that I was blind.
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drenched
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| adj.湿透的；充满的v.使湿透( drench的过去式和过去分词 )；在某人（某物）上大量使用（某液体） | |
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rim
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| n.(圆物的)边，轮缘；边界 | |
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rivulet
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| n.小溪，小河 | |
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curbs
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| v.限制，克制，抑制( curb的第三人称单数 ) | |
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pervading
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| v.遍及，弥漫( pervade的现在分词 ) | |
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sullenly
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| 不高兴地，绷着脸，忧郁地 | |
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torrent
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| n.激流，洪流；爆发，(话语等的)连发 | |
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grumbling
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| adj. 喃喃鸣不平的, 出怨言的 | |
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urn
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| n.（有座脚的）瓮；坟墓；骨灰瓮 | |
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standing
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| n.持续，地位；adj.永久的，不动的，直立的，不流动的 | |
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cleansing
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| n. 净化(垃圾) adj. 清洁用的 动词cleanse的现在分词 | |
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belligerent
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| adj.好战的，挑起战争的；n.交战国，交战者 | |
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amiable
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| adj.和蔼可亲的，友善的，亲切的 | |
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relentless
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| adj.残酷的，不留情的，无怜悯心的 | |
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ruffled
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| adj. 有褶饰边的, 起皱的 动词ruffle的过去式和过去分词 | |
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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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skilfully
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| adv. (美skillfully)熟练地 | |
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feat
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| n.功绩；武艺，技艺；adj.灵巧的，漂亮的，合适的 | |
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resolute
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| adj.坚决的，果敢的 | |
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doorway
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| n.门口，(喻)入门；门路，途径 | |
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21
mighty
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| adj.强有力的；巨大的 | |
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22
woe
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| n.悲哀，苦痛，不幸，困难；int.用来表达悲伤或惊慌 | |
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23
doomed
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| 命定的 | |
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prodigious
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| adj.惊人的，奇妙的；异常的；巨大的；庞大的 | |
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25
hopped
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| 跳上[下]( hop的过去式和过去分词 )； 单足蹦跳； 齐足（或双足）跳行； 摘葎草花 | |
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26
stunning
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| adj.极好的；使人晕倒的 | |
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27
belying
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| v.掩饰，与…不符，使…失望；掩饰( belie的现在分词 )；证明（或显示）…为虚假；辜负；就…扯谎 | |
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28
gorging
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| v.（用食物把自己）塞饱，填饱( gorge的现在分词 )；作呕 | |
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29
wretch
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| n.可怜的人，不幸的人；卑鄙的人 | |
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30
rivulets
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| n.小河，小溪( rivulet的名词复数 ) | |
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31
fixed
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| adj.固定的，不变的，准备好的；(计算机)固定的 | |
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32
tirade
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| n.冗长的攻击性演说 | |
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33
disdain
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| n.鄙视，轻视；v.轻视，鄙视，不屑 | |
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34
bass
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| n.男低音(歌手)；低音乐器；低音大提琴 | |
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35
preposterous
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| adj.荒谬的，可笑的 | |
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36
inquiries
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| n.调查( inquiry的名词复数 )；疑问；探究；打听 | |
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37
dozed
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| v.打盹儿，打瞌睡( doze的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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38
blandly
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| adv.温和地，殷勤地 | |
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39
shrill
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| adj.尖声的；刺耳的；v尖叫 | |
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40
agitation
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| n.搅动；搅拌；鼓动，煽动 | |
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41
wagon
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| n.四轮马车，手推车，面包车；无盖运货列车 | |
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42
perfectly
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| adv.完美地，无可非议地，彻底地 | |
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43
futile
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| adj.无效的，无用的，无希望的 | |
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44
insinuatingly
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45
scurrying
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| v.急匆匆地走( scurry的现在分词 ) | |
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46
pointed
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| adj.尖的，直截了当的 | |
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47
waddles
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| v.（像鸭子一样）摇摇摆摆地走( waddle的第三人称单数 ) | |
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48
lugging
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| 超载运转能力 | |
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49
hamper
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| vt.妨碍，束缚，限制；n.(有盖的)大篮子 | |
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50
descended
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| a.为...后裔的，出身于...的 | |
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51
doffed
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| v.脱去，（尤指）脱帽( doff的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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52
scuttled
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| v.使船沉没( scuttle的过去式和过去分词 )；快跑，急走 | |
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53
swooped
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| 俯冲，猛冲( swoop的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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54
hissed
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| 发嘶嘶声( hiss的过去式和过去分词 )； 发嘘声表示反对 | |
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55
snug
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| adj.温暖舒适的，合身的，安全的；v.使整洁干净，舒适地依靠，紧贴；n.（英）酒吧里的私房 | |
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56
snugly
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| adv.紧贴地；贴身地；暖和舒适地；安适地 | |
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57
hack
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| n.劈，砍，出租马车；v.劈，砍，干咳 | |
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58
rattled
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| 慌乱的，恼火的 | |
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59
ecstasy
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| n.狂喜，心醉神怡，入迷 | |
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60
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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61
groaned
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| v.呻吟( groan的过去式和过去分词 )；发牢骚；抱怨；受苦 | |
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62
plight
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| n.困境，境况，誓约，艰难；vt.宣誓，保证，约定 | |
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63
amble
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| vi.缓行，漫步 | |
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64
dismally
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| adv.阴暗地，沉闷地 | |
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65
apprising
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| v.告知，通知( apprise的现在分词 )；评价 | |
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66
exasperating
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| adj. 激怒的 动词exasperate的现在分词形式 | |
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67
premises
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| n.建筑物，房屋 | |
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68
undertaking
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| n.保证，许诺，事业 | |
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69
plausible
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| adj.似真实的，似乎有理的，似乎可信的 | |
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70
wrath
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| n.愤怒，愤慨，暴怒 | |
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71
scurvy
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| adj.下流的，卑鄙的，无礼的；n.坏血病 | |
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72
confided
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| v.吐露（秘密，心事等）( confide的过去式和过去分词 )；（向某人）吐露（隐私、秘密等） | |
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73
laboriously
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| adv.艰苦地；费力地；辛勤地；（文体等）佶屈聱牙地 | |
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74
grunts
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| （猪等）作呼噜声( grunt的第三人称单数 )； （指人）发出类似的哼声； 咕哝着说； 石鲈 | |
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75
bloody
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| adj.非常的的；流血的；残忍的；adv.很；vt.血染 | |
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76
gender
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| n.（生理上的）性，（名词、代词等的）性 | |
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77
diabolical
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| adj.恶魔似的，凶暴的 | |
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78
machinery
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| n.(总称)机械，机器；机构 | |
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79
puddle
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| n.(雨)水坑，泥潭 | |
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80
sneaked
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| v.潜行( sneak的过去式和过去分词 )；偷偷溜走；（儿童向成人）打小报告；告状 | |
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81
astonishment
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| n.惊奇，惊异 | |
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82
rascal
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| n.流氓；不诚实的人 | |
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83
farce
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| n.闹剧，笑剧，滑稽戏；胡闹 | |
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84
retraced
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| v.折回( retrace的过去式和过去分词 )；回忆；回顾；追溯 | |
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85
jocund
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| adj.快乐的，高兴的 | |
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86
glistened
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| v.湿物闪耀，闪亮( glisten的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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87
dreary
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| adj.令人沮丧的，沉闷的，单调乏味的 | |
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88
desolate
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| adj.荒凉的，荒芜的；孤独的，凄凉的；v.使荒芜，使孤寂 | |
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89
imperturbable
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| adj.镇静的 | |
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90
countenance
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| n.脸色，面容；面部表情；vt.支持，赞同 | |
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91
proximity
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| n.接近，邻近 | |
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92
inquisitive
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| adj.求知欲强的，好奇的，好寻根究底的 | |
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93
delicacy
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| n.精致，细微，微妙，精良；美味，佳肴 | |
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94
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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95
shudder
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| v.战粟，震动，剧烈地摇晃；n.战粟，抖动 | |
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96
placate
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| v.抚慰，平息(愤怒) | |
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97
distressed
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| 痛苦的 | |
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98
exultantly
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| adv.狂欢地，欢欣鼓舞地 | |
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99
rebound
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| v.弹回；n.弹回，跳回 | |
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100
oars
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| n.桨，橹( oar的名词复数 )；划手v.划（行）( oar的第三人称单数 ) | |
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101
pneumonia
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| n.肺炎 | |
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102
chattering
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| n. （机器振动发出的）咔嗒声，(鸟等)鸣，啁啾 adj. 喋喋不休的，啾啾声的 动词chatter的现在分词形式 | |
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103
torrents
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| n.倾注；奔流( torrent的名词复数 )；急流；爆发；连续不断 | |
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104
misty
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| adj.雾蒙蒙的，有雾的 | |
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105
huddled
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| 挤在一起（huddle的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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106
wharf
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| n.码头，停泊处 | |
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107
pier
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| n.码头；桥墩，桥柱；[建]窗间壁，支柱 | |
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108
foaming
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| adj.布满泡沫的；发泡 | |
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109
canopy
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| n.天篷，遮篷 | |
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110
limousine
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| n.豪华轿车 | |
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111
converse
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| vi.谈话，谈天，闲聊；adv.相反的，相反 | |
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112
sarcastically
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| adv.挖苦地，讽刺地 | |
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113
bug
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| n.虫子；故障；窃听器；vt.纠缠；装窃听器 | |
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114
thoroughly
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| adv.完全地，彻底地，十足地 | |
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115
conducive
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| adj.有益的，有助的 | |
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116
persiflage
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| n.戏弄；挖苦 | |
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117
glum
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| adj.闷闷不乐的，阴郁的 | |
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118
nervously
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| adv.神情激动地，不安地 | |
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119
linen
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| n.亚麻布，亚麻线，亚麻制品；adj.亚麻布制的，亚麻的 | |
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120
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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121
sufficiently
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| adv.足够地，充分地 | |
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122
apparently
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| adv.显然地；表面上，似乎 | |
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123
stimulant
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| n.刺激物，兴奋剂 | |
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124
forth
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| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
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125
amazement
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| n.惊奇，惊讶 | |
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126
rumpled
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| v.弄皱，使凌乱( rumple的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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127
drooped
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| 弯曲或下垂，发蔫( droop的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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128
lashes
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| n.鞭挞( lash的名词复数 )；鞭子；突然猛烈的一击；急速挥动v.鞭打( lash的第三人称单数 )；煽动；紧系；怒斥 | |
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129
bosom
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| n.胸，胸部；胸怀；内心；adj.亲密的 | |
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130
swell
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| vi.膨胀，肿胀；增长，增强 | |
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131
repose
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| v.(使)休息；n.安息 | |
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