These meetings had been arranged by Clarice, who could see no other way to clear up the many mysteries which seemed to environ the death of Henry Horran. It was necessary to take some steps, to come to some decision, and as speedily as possible, for it was likely that Osip, out of revenge for the trick Clarice had played him, would inform Scotland Yard of Ferdy's guilt6. So Clarice, clothed in her mourning for the dead man, waited in silence and in sorrow.
Never would she forget the return journey on the previous night. After being revived by a glass of brandy, Anthony had taken her at once in a cab to Liverpool Street Station, and there they had been fortunate enough to catch a late train to the Junction7. Ackworth had telegraphed for a closed brougham, and in this he drove with Clarice to Crumel, some miles distant. Then, after he had seen her safely in the hands of Mrs. Rebson, he had departed in the fly for Gattlinsands, promising8 to bring over Ferdy on the afternoon of the ensuing day. All that could be done had been done, and now Clarice waited with a sick heart for the coming interviews with Ferdy and Jerce. Both promised to be stormy ones.
Exactly as the clock struck four, Ferdy's voice, gay and bright, was heard in the hall. Clarice shuddered9 as she heard him. It was extraordinary to her that Ferdy could laugh at all, seeing what he had on his conscience. But he entered quite gaily10, smiling and brisk, with Anthony at his heels, looking grave. When the boy had kissed his sister, he commented on Ackworth's low spirits, gaily.
"I can't make out what's up with Anthony," said he, taking a seat by the fire and poking11 the coals into a blaze. "He came back late last night, looking like an owl12. I was playing snooker with Flanigan, and he didn't even take an interest in the game, although I made some ripping shots. What's the matter with him?"
"You are--" said Clarice, indignantly.
Ferdy dropped the poker13 with a clatter14. "I am?" he echoed. "Why, what do you mean?"--he glanced at Ackworth. "I say, old chap, what's the joke? Have I been doing anything wrong?"
Ackworth shrugged15 his shoulders and walked to the window. Then he glanced at his watch, and mentally noted16 that Jerce's train was almost due. If Ferdy was to be disposed of, before the doctor arrived it would be necessary to make him confess at once. Ferdy eyed Anthony in astonishment17, but no reason for this pointed18 silence occurred to his shallow brain. He turned to his sister. "I say, Clarry!--"
"Sit down!" she commanded, harshly.
"What do you mean?" he flushed up. "Don't speak to me in that way."
Anthony crossed the room rapidly, and, taking Ferdy by the shoulders, made him sit down. "You must not speak to your sister in that manner, while I am by," he declared, sternly. "You are about to be spoken to, in a way you won't like."
"Then I'll go," raged Ferdy, evading19 Ackworth's grip, and making for the door. "How dare you lay hands on me--how dare you?"
"If you leave the room, Ferdy," said Clarice, in a quiet and level voice, "you will run straight into the hands of the police."
The young man's face changed immediately to a chalky white, and he fell nervelessly into a chair near the door. "The police?" he whispered.
"Yes," said Clarice, pitilessly, for his unmanly terror disgusted her; "you will probably spend your night in gaol20."
"Clarice!" Ferdy staggered to his feet, violently trembling. "I--I--I--don't know what you mean."
Ackworth gave a low laugh of scorn, and strolled to the hearth-rug to take up his position before the fire. "You had better confess," he said, in his sharp, military way.
"Confess what?"
"Oh!" Clarice clenched21 her hands and her eyes shot fire. "Why will you keep up this pretence22? You know well enough what you have to confess. Will you do so here, or in the dock?"
"In the dock?" Ferdy flung forward half-way across the room. "I don't--I never did--what is it?--oh, Clarry, you are making a mistake."
"Is this a mistake?" asked his sister, and showed him the stamp.
Ferdy was drawn23 towards it like the ship to the fabled24 magnetic rocks in the Arabian tale. "Where--where did you get it?" he whispered.
"In your room--hidden away."
"And who put it--who hid it--who--oh--" he caught his breath--"this is a conspiracy25 to ruin me."
"Zara will ruin you--"
"Zara!"
"Jerce will ruin you--"
"Jerce!"
"Osip will ruin you."
"Osip! Osip! Osip!"
"Only Anthony and I can save you. Tell the truth--the whole truth."
"Zara declares that you did. She saw you through the window."
"She saw me--yes--she told me she saw me--but I was marking the forehead of Uncle Henry with that"--he pointed to the stamp. "He was dead when I entered the room; I swear that he was."
"Then you WERE in Uncle Henry's room on that night?" cried Clarice, springing to her feet with horror-filled eyes. "You DID stamp his poor flesh with that accursed Purple Fern. Oh, Anthony, Anthony," she rushed towards her lover and caught at him with both hands, "how can I bear it--how can I bear it? Disgrace--shame--murder--"
Ferdy slipped on to the floor, and clutched at her dress. He was terrified at seeing Clarice desert him in this way, and whimpered like a child that had been left alone in the dark. "Not murder. No! no! I swear not murder. But--but--but--" he broke down crying, and hid his shameful27 face in his hands, sobbing28 bitterly.
A silence ensued. Clarice concealed29 her face in Anthony's breast, and he held her tightly to him, feeling absolutely helpless under the strain of the moment, and feeling also that he was unable to console her in any way. The door creaked and swung inward gently under a scratching paw, and old Jane hobbled into the room, on the look-out for afternoon tea. Seeing Ferdy on the ground, she went up to him and licked the hands which concealed his face. In a mechanical manner he smoothed her head, and in the stillness the clock on the mantelpiece could be heard ticking steadily30 in the pauses of the beating rain. Anthony was the first to recover his composure. "We must come to some arrangement before Jerce arrives," he said.
"Jerce!" Ferdy leaped to his feet so unexpectedly that Jane ran under the sofa with a howl of dismay. "Jerce?"
"He is coming down--he will be here in a few minutes. Clarice, dear"--he led her to an armchair--"sit down and compose yourself."
"I am all right now," said Clarice, in a suffocating31 voice, and calmed her unruly nerves with a violent effort. "Now then, Ferdy," she said, in an ominously32 quiet voice, "we are waiting for your story."
"As much as Zara could tell me," said his sister, in a sad voice, "as much as Osip knew."
"You have seen Osip?"
"Yes. I need not tell you how I came to meet him. But he accuses you of the murder of Uncle Henry, and for all I know, he may already have given notice to the police."
"What?" asked Ferdy, in a grating voice, "when he is wanted himself, and for that crime?"
"Osip is innocent of this particular crime," interposed Ackworth.
"Then if he did not kill Uncle Henry, I don't know who did," declared Ferdy, his face becoming sullen34.
"You WILL tell lies," said Clarice, between her teeth.
"It is the truth; I swear it is the truth."
"Tell your story and let us judge," said Ackworth, imperiously, "and remember, that your life is at stake."
"Would you betray me?"
"We would save you, and only by knowing the absolute truth can we save you. Come, Baird, out with it."
Ferdy stared at the ground, and felt that he was being very hardly treated by the two before him. He stole a look at their set faces, and saw that he would have to lay bare the secrets of his shallow, false life. A bolder man would have braved the matter out; a weaker man would have fainted in the extremity35 of his terror. But Ferdy Baird, half fool, half knave36, acted up to his double character--that is, he told all that could place him in a pleasant light, and suppressed what he could. But by questioning and browbeating37 the lovers got the truth out of him at last. In substance his story came to this, but he told it in a somewhat different way:--
"Since you must know all," he said, sullenly38, and with his eyes on the carpet, "Jerce is the one to blame for the whole trouble; and Uncle Henry is also--"
"Not a word against him," said Clarice, sternly, and placed her hand in that of Ackworth's, for she felt that she needed what solace39 she could obtain in this hour of sorrow and disgrace.
"Uncle Henry should have allowed me more money," said Ferdy, doggedly40, "and then I should not have got into trouble with Jerce. I thought that I would be able to get what I wanted, since I was heir to two thousand a year, and when I went to London I had a good time."
"A mad time--a reckless time--a wicked time," said Clarice.
"That depends upon the way you look at it," said the young man. "I had a ripping time, I say, but it cost money. Jerce lent me some, because he wanted to marry you, Clarry, and wished me to use my influence to bring about the marriage."
"You never had any influence," said Clarice, while Anthony looked at his future brother-in-law with the air of a man who wished to kick him out of the house.
"Jerce thought I had, and lent me money. But I got into debt. I was in love with Zara a year ago, and she made me spend no end of cash on motor-drives and flowers and jewels, and all the rest of it."
"But you told me of two thousand pounds, Ferdy. Was there more?"
"Much more. I gambled, you see, and lost heavily on bridge. But it's no use saying what I did, or how I spent the money, as I was simply desperate. I did not dare to go to Uncle Henry, so I asked Jerce again. He refused to help me, so I--I--" here Ferdy kicked a mat with his feet and blurted41 out the shameful truth unwillingly42, "I forged his cheque for two hundred pounds."
"What!" Clarice nearly fainted.
"That's right. Preach away and kick a chap when he's down. I didn't exactly forge the name, but I altered the figures of a cheque for twenty pounds given me by Jerce, to one for two hundred. So you see I am not quite a forger44," ended Ferdy, cheerfully.
"Go on," commanded Anthony, curtly45, and soothed46 the girl, who was weeping bitterly. "Hush47, Clarice, darling. We have heard the worst now; nothing more shameful can be revealed."
"A forger and a murderer," cried Clarice, in agony--"my own brother."
"I am neither the one nor the other," said Ferdy, in a brazen48 manner. "If you'll only listen to me, I can explain. Jerce got the cheque and held it over me as a whip. He said that he would put me in gaol, if I did not do what he wanted. For a long time he left me alone, and then"--Ferdy sank his voice to a terrified whisper--"then he brought me the stamp of the Purple Fern, and told me that I was to kill Uncle Henry and stamp his forehead with the fern, so that the crime would look like the work of Osip."
"I accepted to gain time," said Ferdy, sulkily. "What else could I do? I was in Jerce's power, and could be sent to prison. But I never intended to kill Uncle Henry."
"Why did Jerce want him killed?" asked Ackworth, suddenly.
"Well, he said that Uncle Henry's disease puzzled him, and that the reason could not be found out, unless he was dead and his body was examined. It was scientific curiosity."
"Pshaw!" said Anthony, while Clarice heard this explanation with incredulous horror. "Do you mean to tell me that Jerce would place his neck in a noose50 in order to gain surgical51 knowledge?"
"He was going to place my neck in a noose," corrected Ferdy, sulkily, "and Jerce was quite mad about science. I found out a lot about his devilries when I lived with him. He was a vivisection enthusiast52, too. Yes! You often wondered, Clarry, why Jane"--he glanced at the dog lying quietly under the sofa--"why Jane hated Jerce so. Well, it was because he started to vivisect her, and lamed53 her leg."
"What a wretch," cried Clarice, trembling with horror. "Oh, Anthony, I can't bear it--I can't bear it."
"Hush, dear, hush." He sat beside her in the chair, and held her in his arms like a mother nursing a babe. "Go on, Baird," he commanded.
"Jerce wasn't altogether bad," said Ferdy, grudgingly54. "He let Jane go, when he found that she wasn't much use as a subject, and gave her to you, Clarry."
"Jane! Jane!" called the girl, faintly, and when the dog came she patted the smooth head. "My poor Jane, how cruelly you have been treated," whereon Jane licked the kind hand which caressed55 her, and sat down with her tongue out, the picture of happiness.
"Well," said Ferdy, after a pause, "you see how I was placed. I had to kill Uncle Henry, or go to gaol through Jerce. I tried to find out something against Jerce that would give me the whip hand of him, but he was too clever. But I did find out some things. Jerce used to pretend to go to Whitechapel, and sometimes he did, but usually he changed his dress and went on the spree."
"What do you mean by on the spree?" asked Clarice, sharply.
"I shouldn't like to tell you," said Ferdy, with great simplicity56, "for Jerce was a terror. I'm no great shakes, but Jerce was worse. He spent money like water on women, buying jewels and houses and furniture and dresses, and running race-horses, and gambling57, and, in fact," ended Ferdy, with an air of fatigue58, "Jerce was, and is, a blackguard; and even I, don't know everything about him."
"It's impossible that a well-known man like Sir Daniel Jerce could go on in this way," said Anthony, decidedly.
"Oh, but he did. I found lots of shady people who knew him. But Jerce was clever in covering his trail. Then Barras was in with him."
"Good heavens!" cried Clarice, in despair. "Are there no good men?"
"Barras wasn't good. He used to lark5 about also, but I think Jerce led him away, from what I can gather."
"Remember, dear," said Anthony, bending over Clarice, "we saw them together at the Shah's Rooms."
"What?" cried Ferdy, quickly, "have you been there?"
"Never you mind, go on with your story. You say that Jerce wanted Uncle Henry to be killed so that he might find out the reason for the disease?"
"That was the reason Jerce gave me, and said that it would be a merciful release, as Uncle Henry could not live long. But one night I overheard a conversation between Barras and Jerce--not the whole of it, but scraps59, and I gathered that Barras was giving Jerce some of Uncle Henry's money--that is our money."
"Oh!" Clarice started to her feet, "the forty thousand pounds. I am beginning to see. Sir Daniel Jerce had that money."
"I can't say--I'm not sure. But there was some question of our money being lent; for Barras--as I heard--said something about Uncle Henry becoming suspicious of the business. I couldn't exactly make out what was meant," ended Ferdy, "but I gathered that the finances of the estate--our estate--were wrong."
"I can see," said Clarice, quickly, "I can understand. Barras told a lie when he said that he gave Uncle Henry the forty thousand in gold. He gave it to Jerce, and made Uncle Henry the scapegoat60. Nothing wrong was ever suspected by poor Uncle Henry. He told me some days before he was murdered that I should find everything in order."
"Well, you did."
"Yes," said Clarice, indignantly, "because Mr. Barras cooked the accounts, and put the blame of the missing thousands on to my poor guardian61, who could not defend himself. The villain62. And you knew this, Ferdy--you knew this, and did not tell me?"
"How could I, when I was in Jerce's power over that bill? Besides, I didn't clearly understand things. I only heard bits of the conversation, you know."
"Go on--go on," said Ackworth, quickly, "tell us how you committed the murder."
"I did not--I did not," cried Ferdy, furiously. "I swear I am innocent of that crime. After Christmas, Jerce said that if I didn't kill Uncle Henry before the end of the year, that he would denounce me. He said that if I stamped the corpse63 with the Purple Fern everyone would think that Osip had killed him. Then he told me about Frank Clarke, and how he had given him the stamp and the gold box."
"Then he did have the gold box?" asked Clarice.
"Yes. He gave me the stamp, but he kept the box in his pocket, as he thought it was safest there. He feared lest it should be found, and lest the amethyst64 fern on it should give him away. When Osip attacked him out there"--Ferdy pointed to the terrace--"Jerce managed to throw it away, and then bamboozled65 me when I came up, about not having Osip arrested. He dared not," cried Ferdy, tauntingly66, "as Osip might have given him away."
"Oh, great heavens!" moaned Clarice, rocking herself to and fro, "is there much more of this?"
"No," said her brother, quickly. "I'm sure I want to end it as much as you do, Clarry. I never intended to kill Uncle Henry, but Jerce insisted."
"You've said that several times," said Anthony, impatiently.
"And I say it again. I got drunk on that night because Jerce worried me so. I was quite feverish67."
"Were you really drunk?" asked Clarice, eagerly.
"Yes, I was. Mother Dumps had been feeding me up with bad champagne68 in honour of Zara's coming home. I came back, and you locked me in my room, Clarry. I fell asleep, and didn't wake up until nearly two o'clock in the morning."
"Are you sure of the time?" asked his sister, quickly.
"Yes, I am. I lighted the candle and looked at my watch. Then I drank some water, and sat on the bed to think of what I should do. I felt jolly miserable, I can tell you," said Ferdy, in an aggrieved69 tone, "what with all my debts, and being in love with Prudence70, and with Zara worrying me, and with Jerce making things hot. Then I thought that it would be best to go down and see Uncle Henry, and tell him all. Remembering the conversation of Jerce and Barras, I fancied that the accounts were wrong, and that if Jerce made it hot for me over the bill, that Uncle Henry could make it hot for Jerce. I swear," cried Ferdy again, "that when I went down the stairs I never intended to lay a hand on the man who had been like a father to me. I intended to tell him all, and throw myself on his mercy."
"How did you get out, when I had locked you in?"
Ferdy cast a contemptuous look on her, "Why, I had another key, of course. You locked me in several times, and thought that I was safe, but I could get out whenever I liked. I unlocked the door, and went down to see Uncle Henry in my cloth slippers71 and dressing-gown."
"If you intended no harm," asked Anthony, "why did you take the stamp with you--the Purple Fern stamp?"
"I intended to give it to Uncle Henry, and tell him how Jerce had got it from Frank Clarke, and the use he intended to make of it. Well, then, I went down carefully, and opened the bedroom door. I thought that Uncle Henry might be awake. But he wasn't; he was dead."
There was a pause. "Are you sure?" asked Clarice, in a husky voice.
"I can swear to it. He was dead--stabbed to the heart--with the bedclothes all disarranged, and I very nearly gave the alarm. Then I thought that as Uncle Henry was dead, all I had to do was to stamp his forehead with the Purple Fern, to get the cheque from Jerce into my possession. I was about to do so," said Ferdy, frankly72, while his sister groaned73 at this fresh instance of callous74 wickedness, "when I heard a noise outside, and slipped under the bed."
"Why on earth did you do that?" demanded Anthony, bluntly.
"It was very natural," protested Ferdy, sulkily. "I was afraid lest the murderer should return and kill me; and, of course, I didn't want anyone to see me beside the dead body of Uncle Henry, considering the circumstances. I fancied Chalks might be coming, and dreaded75 lest I should get into trouble, as I had no business in the room at that time. Oh, there were plenty of reasons for me to make myself scarce."
"Well, and was it Chalks?" said Clarice, tapping her foot, impatiently.
"No, it wasn't. Old Clarke came in at the window calling softly on Uncle Henry. I heard his voice, and peeped out to see him. He nearly squealed76 when he spotted77 the body, so I don't think that he is guilty. Then he groaned and prayed, and, for some reason, arranged the bedclothes smoothly78. Afterwards he cut as hard as he could, frightened out of his life, as I was. In a few minutes I crept out, and stamped the corpse's forehead, which was the only thing I could do to put myself square with Jerce. When I crept upstairs and locked myself again in my room, I thought that everything was safe. But it wasn't," grumbled79 Ferdy, apparently80 thinking himself aggrieved. "Zara was knocking about, and spotted me through the window. She made me break off with Prudence by threatening to tell the police. I said that Prudence wouldn't let me off, but Zara said she could manage that, and she did too, by telling the poor girl that Mr. Clarke had committed the crime, which I swear he hadn't," finished Ferdy, generously.
"Is that all?" questioned Clarice, when he ended out of breath.
"What more do you wish me to say?" asked Ferdy, indignantly. "I'm not to blame, as I couldn't help Uncle Henry being killed. And I never forged the cheque--that is, the name, you know, Clarry--I only altered the figures a little. And I swear I never stabbed Uncle Henry, but just stamped him with the Fern."
"That was an abominable81 thing to do," cried Ackworth, angrily.
"I don't see that," said the young man, obstinately82. "What did it matter when Uncle Henry was dead? I had to get even with Jerce, and save myself somehow. And I did, too. Jerce, when he came for the post-mortem, and saw the stamp on the forehead, gave me back the cheque right enough, and I burnt it, so no one can harm me in that way. I think you are making a great row over nothing," ended Ferdy, in an injured tone, "as I am quite innocent."
Clarice looked at Anthony, and Anthony at Clarice, in despair. Both of them were amazed at the callous view Ferdy took of the case. He really did not seem to be aware of the enormity of his fault, and looked upon his crimes--for crimes they were--as merely mistakes of ordinary life. Perhaps Anthony--for Clarice was too heart-broken to speak--would have proceeded to lecture Ferdy on his iniquities83, but that a ring came to the front door. Jane, at Miss Baird's feet, raised her head, and Ackworth went to the drawing-room door. When he opened it the cheerful, bland84 voice of Sir Daniel Jerce was heard remarking on the bad weather to Mrs. Rebson. At once Jane began to growl85, and she flew across the room.
"Anthony, catch her," cried Clarice, and the young man had only time to grip Jane by the scruff of the neck, and swing her aside, when the doctor entered the room. Jerce looked quiet and smiling, and apparently had no idea of the danger of his position. He laughed, when he saw Jane snapping and snarling86 with blazing eyes, the picture of impotent wrath87. "I really wonder why that dog hates me so?" said Sir Daniel, shrugging.
"She knows you better than we do," retorted Clarice, sternly.
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laurels
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| n.桂冠，荣誉 | |
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drowsily
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| adv.睡地，懒洋洋地，昏昏欲睡地 | |
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panes
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| 窗玻璃( pane的名词复数 ) | |
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dismal
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| adj.阴沉的，凄凉的，令人忧郁的，差劲的 | |
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lark
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| n.云雀，百灵鸟；n.嬉戏，玩笑；vi.嬉戏 | |
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guilt
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| n.犯罪；内疚；过失，罪责 | |
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junction
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| n.连接，接合；交叉点，接合处，枢纽站 | |
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promising
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| adj.有希望的，有前途的 | |
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shuddered
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| v.战栗( shudder的过去式和过去分词 )；发抖；（机器、车辆等）突然震动；颤动 | |
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gaily
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| adv.欢乐地，高兴地 | |
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poking
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| n. 刺，戳，袋 vt. 拨开，刺，戳 vi. 戳，刺，捅，搜索，伸出，行动散慢 | |
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owl
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poker
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clatter
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shrugged
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noted
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astonishment
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pointed
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evading
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gaol
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clenched
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pretence
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drawn
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fabled
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conspiracy
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collapsed
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shameful
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sobbing
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concealed
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steadily
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suffocating
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ominously
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miserable
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sullen
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extremity
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| n.末端，尽头；尽力；终极；极度 | |
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knave
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| n.流氓；（纸牌中的）杰克 | |
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browbeating
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| v.（以言辞或表情）威逼，恫吓( browbeat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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solace
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| n.安慰；v.使快乐；vt.安慰(物)，缓和 | |
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doggedly
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| adv.顽强地，固执地 | |
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blurted
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| v.突然说出，脱口而出( blurt的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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unwillingly
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| adv.不情愿地 | |
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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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forger
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| v.伪造；n.（钱、文件等的）伪造者 | |
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curtly
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| adv.简短地 | |
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soothed
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| v.安慰( soothe的过去式和过去分词 )；抚慰；使舒服；减轻痛苦 | |
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hush
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| int.嘘，别出声；n.沉默，静寂；v.使安静 | |
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brazen
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| adj.厚脸皮的，无耻的，坚硬的 | |
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shrieked
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| v.尖叫( shriek的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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noose
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| n.绳套，绞索（刑）；v.用套索捉；使落入圈套；处以绞刑 | |
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surgical
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| adj.外科的，外科医生的，手术上的 | |
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enthusiast
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| n.热心人，热衷者 | |
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lamed
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| 希伯莱语第十二个字母 | |
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grudgingly
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caressed
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| 爱抚或抚摸…( caress的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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simplicity
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| n.简单，简易；朴素；直率，单纯 | |
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gambling
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| n.赌博；投机 | |
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fatigue
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| n.疲劳，劳累 | |
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scraps
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| 油渣 | |
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scapegoat
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| n.替罪的羔羊，替人顶罪者；v.使…成为替罪羊 | |
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guardian
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| n.监护人；守卫者，保护者 | |
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villain
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| n.反派演员，反面人物；恶棍；问题的起因 | |
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corpse
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| n.尸体，死尸 | |
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amethyst
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| n.紫水晶 | |
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bamboozled
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| v.欺骗，使迷惑( bamboozle的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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tauntingly
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| 嘲笑地，辱骂地； 嘲骂地 | |
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feverish
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| adj.发烧的，狂热的，兴奋的 | |
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champagne
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| n.香槟酒；微黄色 | |
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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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prudence
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| n.谨慎，精明，节俭 | |
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slippers
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| n. 拖鞋 | |
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frankly
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| adv.坦白地，直率地；坦率地说 | |
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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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callous
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| adj.无情的，冷淡的，硬结的，起老茧的 | |
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dreaded
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| adj.令人畏惧的；害怕的v.害怕，恐惧，担心( dread的过去式和过去分词) | |
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squealed
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| v.长声尖叫，用长而尖锐的声音说( squeal的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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spotted
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| adj.有斑点的，斑纹的，弄污了的 | |
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smoothly
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| adv.平滑地，顺利地，流利地，流畅地 | |
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grumbled
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| 抱怨( grumble的过去式和过去分词 )； 发牢骚； 咕哝； 发哼声 | |
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apparently
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| adv.显然地；表面上，似乎 | |
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abominable
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| adj.可厌的，令人憎恶的 | |
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obstinately
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| ad.固执地，顽固地 | |
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83
iniquities
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| n.邪恶( iniquity的名词复数 )；极不公正 | |
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84
bland
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| adj.淡而无味的，温和的，无刺激性的 | |
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85
growl
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| v.（狗等）嗥叫，（炮等）轰鸣；n.嗥叫，轰鸣 | |
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snarling
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| v.（指狗）吠，嗥叫， （人）咆哮( snarl的现在分词 )；咆哮着说，厉声地说 | |
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wrath
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| n.愤怒，愤慨，暴怒 | |
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