"Not bad. But you'd better let us help you. We've been studying the original exhaustively, Leslie and I."
"A very fine and remarkable1 building," said Leslie, ponderously2, and Peter laughed for the sheer pleasure of seeing Urquhart's lazy length stretched on the warm sand.
"Cheriton's somewhere about," said Urquhart. "But he wouldn't help me with St. Mark's. He was all for walking round the island at a great pace and seeing how long it took him. So superfluously3 energetic, isn't he? Fancy being energetic in Venice."
"He has his good points," Urquhart added; "but he excites himself too much. Always taking up some violent crusade against something or other. Can't live and let live. Another dome5 here, I think."
Peter wondered if Cheriton's latest crusade was against Hilary's taste in art, and if so what Urquhart thought on that subject. It was an uncomfortable thought. He characteristically turned away from it.
"The intense blue of the sea, contrasted with the fainter blue of the Euganean Hills," said Leslie suddenly, "is most remarkable and beautiful. What?"
He was proud of having noticed that. He was always proud of noticing beauty unaided. He made his remark with the simple pleasure of a child in his own appreciation6. His glance at Peter said, "I am getting on, I think?"
The others agreed that he was correct. He then bent7 his great mind to the completion of St. Mark's, and Urquhart discovered what Peter had long known, that he could really play in earnest. The reverse art—handling serious issues with a light touch—he was less good at. Grave subjects, like the blue of the sea or the shape of a goblet8, he approached with the same solidity of earnestness which he brought to bear on sand cathedrals. It was just this that made him a little tiring.
But the three together on the sands made a happy and congruous party of absorbed children, till Cheriton the energetic came swinging back over the sand-hills. Peter saw him approaching, watched the resolute9 lunge of his stride. His mother was about to be married for the third time: one could well believe it.
"I hope he is going to be nicer to me to-day," Peter thought. Even as he hoped it, and before Cheriton saw the party on the sands, Peter saw the determined10 face stiffen11, and into the vivid eyes came the blank look of one who is cutting somebody. Peter turned and looked behind him to see who it was, and saw Mr. Guy Vyvian approaching. It was obvious from his checked recognition that he thought he knew Cheriton, and that Cheriton did not share the opinion. Peter saw Vyvian's mortified12 colour rise; he was a vain and sensitive person.
Cheriton came and sat down among them. His words as he did so, audibly muttered, were, "The most unmitigated cad!" He looked angry. Then he saw Peter, and seemed a little surprised, but did not cut him; he hardly could. Peter supposed that he owed this only to the accident of Urquhart's presence, since this young man seemed to go about the world ignoring everyone who did not please his fastidious fancy, and Peter could not hope that he had done that.
Peter looked after Vyvian's retreating figure. He could detect injured pride in his back.
He got up and brushed the sand from him.
The situation for a moment was slightly difficult. Leslie and Urquhart had both heard Cheriton's description of Peter's brother's lodger14. Besides, they had seen him, and that was enough.
It was unlike Peter to make awkward situations. He ended this one abruptly15 by leaving it to itself, and walking away after his brother's lodger.
Vyvian greeted him huffily. It needed all Peter's feeling for a hurt man to make him anything but distantly aloof16. Cheriton's description was so manifestly correct. The man was a cad—an oily bounder with a poisonous mind. Peter wondered how Hilary could bear to have his help on the Gem17.
Vyvian broke out about Cheriton.
"Did you see that grand fellow who was too proud to know me? Driven you away too, has he? We don't know people in boarding-houses—we're in our private flat ourselves! It makes me sick!"
But his vulgarity when he was angry was a shade less revolting, because more excusable, than when he wasn't. So Peter bore it, and even tried to be comforting, and to talk about pictures. Vyvian really knew something about art; Peter was a little surprised to find that he knew so much, remembering certain curious blunders of his in the Gem.
He did not talk about the Gem to Vyvian; instinctively18 he avoided it. Peter had a rather useful power of barring his mind against thoughts that he did not desire to have there; without reasoning about it, he had placed the Gem in this category.
He was absently watching the dim blue of the Euganean Hills against the clearer blue of the sky when he discovered that Vyvian was talking about Rhoda Johnson.
"A dear little gurl, with real possibilities, if one could develop them. I do my best. She's fond enough of me to let me mould her atrocious taste. But what can one do to fight the lifelong influence of a home like that—a mother like that? Oh, frightful19! But she is fond of me, and there's her hope—"
"Good-bye," said Peter. "I must go." He could not for the life of him have said any of the other things he was thinking. He would have given a lot to have been Cheriton for the moment, so that he wouldn't mind being rude and violent. It was horribly feeble; all he could say was "Good-bye." Having said it, he went abruptly.
He sighed as he went back to Urquhart and Leslie. Things were so difficult to manage. One left one's friends to comfort a hurt bounder; that was all very well, but what if the bounder comforted was much more offensive than the bounder hurt? However, it was no good reasoning about these things. Peter knew that one had to try and cheer up the hurt, in the face of all reason, simply because one felt so uncomfortable oneself if one didn't.
But it was almost worth while to have a few rather revolting people about; they threw the others into such glorious relief. As long as there were the nice people, who laughed at life and themselves, playing about the world, nothing else in particular mattered. And it was really extraordinarily20 good luck that Urquhart should happen to be playing about Venice at the same time as Peter. In spite of Cheriton, they would have a good time together. And Cheriton would perhaps become friendly in time—dear Jim, with his queer manners. People mostly did become friendly, in quite a short time, according to Peter's experience.
That the time, as far as Cheriton was concerned, had not yet arrived, was rather obvious, however. His manners to Peter on the sands were still quite queer—so queer that Peter and Leslie only stayed a few minutes more. Peter refused Urquhart's suggestion that they should have tea together on the island, and they crossed over to the lagoon21 side and got into their waiting gondola22.
The lagoon waters were smooth like glass, and pale, and unflushed as yet with the coming sunset. Dark lines of stakes marked the blue ship-ways that ran out to open sea, and down them plied24 the ships, spreading painted wings to the evening breeze.
Leslie said, "I see in the Gem that there is a good old well-head to be had from a man on the Riva Ca' di Dio. I want well-heads, as you know. We'll go and see, shall we?"
The crystal peace of the lagoon was shattered for Peter. He had been getting into a curious mood of late; he almost disliked well-heads, and other purchasable forms of beauty. After all, when one had this limpid25 loveliness of smooth water and men walking on its surface like St. Peter, why want anything more? Because, Leslie would say, one wants to possess, to call beauty one's own. Bother, said Peter, the vice26 of the age, which was certainly acquisitiveness. He was coming to the conclusion that he hated buying things. And it was so awkward to explain to Leslie about Hilary and the Gem. He had spent the last few days in trying, without too much giving Hilary away, to restrain Leslie from following his advice. He said now, "All right; we'll go and see. But, to say the truth, I'm not sure that Hilary is a very good authority on well-heads." He blushed a little as he said it; it seemed to him that he had been saying that sort of thing very often of late. Leslie was so persistent27, so incorrigibly28 intent on his purpose.
Leslie looked at him now over his large cigar a little speculatively29.
"According to you," he remarked placidly30 after a moment, "your brother is uncommonly31 little of an authority on anything he mentions. Fraternal scepticism developed to its highest point."
Peter nodded. "Our family way," he said; and added, "Besides, that Vyvian man does as much of the Gem as Hilary. There's a young man, Leslie! My word, what a dog! Talks about gurls. So I left him. I turned upon him and said, 'Sir, this is no talk for a gentleman to listen to.' I said it because I knew it was what he would expect. Then I turned on my heel and left him without a word. He ground his teeth and hissed32, 'A time will come.' But Cheriton seems rather a rude man, all the same. He hurts my feelings too, whenever I meet him. I too hiss33, 'A time will come.' But I don't believe it ever will. Do you suppose the water is shallow over there, or that the men walking on it are doing miracles? It must be fun, either way. Let's do it instead of buying well-heads, Leslie. The fact is, buying so many things is rather demoralising, I think. Let's decide to buy no more. I'm beginning to believe in the simple life, like Rodney. Rodney hates men like you and Urquhart—rolling plutocrats. He wanted me to leave you and the other plutocrats and be a travelling pedlar. I'm not sure that I shan't, before long."
Peter flattered himself that he had successfully turned the conversation from well-heads.
When, after having tea with Leslie at Florian's, he returned to the Palazzo Amadeo, Teresina told him that someone had called to see the Signore, and the Signore, being out, was waiting in the saloon. Peter went to the saloon to see if he would do instead of the Signore, and found a stout35 gentleman with a black moustache and up-brushed hair, spitting on the saloon floor. A revolting habit, as Hilary was wont36 wearily to remark; but Peter always accepted it with anyhow outward equanimity37.
"My brother is unfortunately away from the house," he explained, with his polite smile and atrocious Italian. "But perhaps I can give him a message?"
The visitor gave him a sharp look, bowed ceremoniously, and said, "Ah! The Signore is the brother of Signor Margerison? Truly the brother?"
Peter assured him, not even halving38 the relationship; and indeed, he seldom did that, even in his thoughts.
The visitor gave him a card, bearing the name of Signor Giacomo Stefani, sat down, at Peter's request, spat39 between his feet, and said, "I have had various affairs with your Signor brother before. I am come to solicit40 his patronage41 in the matter of a pair of vases. If he would recommend them for me in his paper, as before. They are good; they might easily be antiques."
"You wish my brother to mention them in his paper?" Peter gathered. He was correct.
"Exactly so," Signor Stefani told him. "Of course, on the same terms as before, if the Signor would be satisfied with them."
"Terms?" Peter repeated after him.
"That was what I paid Signor Margerison before, for an article on a pseudo-Sienese chalice43. But the vases are better; they are good; they might deceive an expert. Truly, they might be antiques!"
He continued to talk, while Peter listened. He was taking it in rather slowly. But at last, not being stupid, he no longer thought Hilary so. He understood.
He stood up presently, looking a little dazed.
"It appears," he said slowly, in his broken Italian, to Signor Stefani, "that you are making a rather bad mistake, which is a pity. I think you had better go home."
Signor Stefani gave a startled upward twist to his moustache, and stood up too.
"Excuse me," he said rather angrily, "there is no mistake. Your brother and I have very frequently had affairs together."
Peter looked at him, frowning doubtfully as he collected his words.
"I am right, I think," he said slowly, "that you are offering my brother a bribe44 to publish a fraudulent article on fraudulent goods of yours? That is so? Then, as I said, you are making a very serious mistake, and ... and you had better go home. Will you come this way, please?"
Signor Stefani continued to talk, but so rapidly and loudly now that Peter couldn't follow him. He merely shook his head and opened the door, saying, "This way, please. I can't understand you when you talk so fast."
Signor Stefani, with a final angry shrug45 and expectoration, permitted himself to be ushered46 out of the room.
On the stairs outside they met Vyvian coming up, who nodded affably to both of them. Signor Stefani, as he passed, shrugged47 his shoulders up to his ears and spread his two hands wide, with a look of resigned despair over his shoulder at Peter, and Vyvian's brows went up at the gesture. Peter ushered his guest out at the street entrance. Signor Stefani's last words were, "I shall return shortly and see your brother in person. I have made a foolish mistake in thinking that you were in his confidence. Good evening."
So they parted, more in sorrow than in anger.
Peter met Vyvian again on the stairs. He was passing on, but Vyvian stopped and said, "What have you been doing to Stefani to put him out so?"
Peter stopped and looked at him for a moment. He felt rather dazed, as if someone had hit him a blow on the head. He had to remember what was this funny bounder's place in the newly-revealed scheme of things. Not merely a funny bounder after all, it seemed, but just what Cheriton had called him. But one couldn't let him know that one thought so; one was ostensibly on Hilary's side, against honesty, against decency48, against all the world.
So Peter, having located Vyvian and himself in this matter, said nothing at all, but went on upstairs.
Vyvian, staring after him in astonishment49 (none of Hilary's boarders had seen Peter discourteous50 before), raised his eyebrows51 again, and whistled beneath his breath.
"So we're too fine for our brother's dirty jobs! I'm dashed if I don't believe it's that!"
Peter went upstairs rather too quickly for his heart. He returned to the saloon and collapsed52 suddenly into a chair, feeling giddy. Mrs. Johnson came in a moment later and found him leaning back with closed eyes. She was disturbed about his complexion53.
"The colour of putty, poor Mr. Peter! You've bin54 excitin' yourself, tearin' about sight-seein', I know. Tell me now just how you feel. I'm blest if I don't believe you've a-bin in the Cathedral, smellin' at that there choky incense55! It takes me like that, always; and Miss Gould says she's just the same. Funny feelin's within, haven't you now?"
"Yes," said Peter, "just exactly that"; and they so overcame him that he began to laugh helplessly.
"I'm sorry, Mrs. Johnson," he said presently. "I'm an ass23. But I'm all right now. I came upstairs in a hurry, that's all. And before that a man talked so loud and so fast that it took my breath away. It may be silly, but I am like that, as Miss Barnett says. My brother and sister-in-law are both out, aren't they?"
Mrs. Johnson, sitting down opposite him and studying the returning tints56 of his complexion, nodded.
"That's it," she said, more cheerfully. "You're gettin' a wholesome57 white again now. I didn't like that unhealthy greeny-grey. But you've none of you any colour, you gentlemen—not you nor your brother nor that pasty Vyvian. None of you but the little curate; he had a nice little pink face. I'm sure I wish some gals58 cared more for looks, and then they wouldn't go after some as are as well let alone." This cryptic60 remark was illuminated61 by a sigh. Mrs. Johnson, now that she saw Peter improving in complexion, reverted62 to her own troubles.
Peter replied vaguely63, "No, I suppose they wouldn't. People ought to care for looks, of course. They matter so much more than anything else, really."
"Without goin' all that way with you, Mr. Peter," said Mrs. Johnson, "and with all due respect to Great Minds (which I haven't got and never shall have, and nor had my poor dear that's gone, so I'm sure I don't know where Rhoder got her leanin's from), I will say I do like to see a young man smart and well-kept. It means a respect for himself, not to mention for those he takes out, that is a stand-by, at least for a mother. And the young fellows affect the gals, too. Rhoder, now—she'd take some pains with herself if she went out with a smart fellow, that was nicely turned out himself and expected her to be the same. But as it is—hair dragged and parted like a queer picture, and a string of green beads64 for a collar, as if she was a Roman with prayers to say—and her waist, Mr. Peter! But there, I oughtn't to talk like this to a gentleman, as Miss Gould would say; (I do keep on shockin' Miss Gould, you know!) But I find it hard to rec'lect that about you, Mr. Peter; you're so sympathetic, you might be a young lady. An' I feel it's all safe with you, an' I do believe you'd help me if you could."
"I should be glad to," said Peter, wondering whether it was for the improvement of Rhoda's hair, waist, or collar that his assistance might be acceptable.
Mrs. Johnson was looking at him very earnestly; it was obvious that something was seriously amiss, and that she was wondering how much she could venture to say to this sympathetic young man who might be a young lady. She made a sudden gesture with her stout hands, as if flinging reticence65 to the winds, and leant forward towards him.
"Mr. Peter ... I don't hardly like to say it ... but could you take my gal59 out sometimes? It does sound a funny thing to ask—but I can't abide66 it that she should be for ever with that there Vyvian. I don't like him, and there it is. And Rhoder does ... And he's just amusin' himself, and I can't bear it for my little gal, that's where it is.... Mr. Peter, I hate the fellow, though you may say I'm no Christian67 for it, and of course one is bidden not to judge but to love all men. But he fair gives me the creeps, like a toad68.... Do you know that feelin'?"
"Oh, yes," said Peter readily. "And of course, I should like immensely to go out with Miss Rhoda sometimes, if she'll let me. But do you think she will? I'm afraid she would be dreadfully bored with me. I haven't a Great Mind, you know."
"Rhoder likes you," said Mrs. Johnson, a smile of relief overspreading her jolly face. "She was sayin' so only the other day. She has a great respect for your knowledge of art, too. 'You wouldn't think it just to talk with him,' she said, 'but he knows the most surprisin' things. Knows them for himself'—that was how she put it—'without needin' to depend on any books, or what anyone else says. I wish I was like that, mother,' she says, and sighs. And of course, I knew why she wished that, and I said to her, 'Rhoder, my dear, never you mind about knowin' things; gals don't need to bother their heads about that. You look after the outside of your head,' I said, chaffing her about her hair, you know, 'and leave the inside to look after itself.' I made her cross, of course; I'm for ever makin' Rhoder cross without meanin' it. But that just shows what she feels towards you, you see. And you'd talk healthy-like to her, which is more than some does, if I know anythin'. One feels that of you, Mr. Peter, if you'll excuse my sayin' it, that your talk is as innocent as a baby's prattle69, though it mayn't always mean much."
"Thank you very much," said Peter. "I will certainly prattle to Miss Rhoda whenever she will let me. I should enjoy it, of course."
"Then that's settled." Mrs. Johnson rose, and shook out her skirts with relief. "And a weight off my mind it will be.... You could make a third with Rhoder and that Vyvian to-morrow afternoon, if you were so good and not otherwise employed. They're off together somewhere, I know."
"I wonder if Mr. Vyvian would let me do that. You see, he doesn't much like me. I expect I give him the creeps, like a toad...." Then, seeing Mrs. Johnson's relieved face cloud, he added, "Oh, well, I'll ask them to take me," and she smiled at him as at a good child. "I knew you would!"
Hilary didn't come in to dinner. That was as well; it gave Peter more time. Perhaps it would be easier late at night to speak of the hopeless, weary, impossible things that had suddenly risen in the way; easier to think of things to say about them that wouldn't too much hurt Hilary or himself.
At dinner Peter was very quiet and polite to everyone. Vyvian's demeanour towards him was touched with irony71; his smile was a continual reference to the fellowship of secrecy72 that bound them. Rhoda was very silent; Peter supposed that Vyvian had been snubbing her.
Hilary came home late. Peter and Peggy and Vyvian were sitting in the dimly-lighted saloon, and the ubiquitous Illuminato was curled up, a sleepy ball, on the marble top of a book-case. Peggy had a habit of leaving him lying about in convenient corners, as a little girl her doll.
"You look tired to death, my dear," she commented, as Hilary came in. Her kindly73 grey eyes turned from him to Peter, who had looked up from the book he was reading with a nervous movement. Peter's sweet-tempered companionableness had been oddly obscured this evening. Perhaps he too was tired to death. And poor little Rhoda had been so unmercifully snubbed all the evening that at last she had crept up to bed all but in tears. Peggy felt very sorry for everyone to-night; they all seemed to need it so much.
Vyvian, as usual, had a headache. When Hilary came in, he rose and said he was going upstairs to try and get some sleep—an endeavour seldom successful in this noisy and jarring world, one gathered. Before he embarked74 on it he said to Peter, squirting soda75 into a large tumbler of whisky, "Stefani want anything particular to-day?"
He had waited to say it till Hilary came in. Peter supposed that he said it merely out of his general desire to be unpleasant, and perhaps to revenge himself for that unanswered enquiry on the stairs. Or possibly he merely wished to indicate to Peter how entirely76 he was privy77 to Stefani's business with Hilary, and that it might just as well be discussed in his presence. Or again, he might be desirous of finding out how far Peter himself was in the know.
Peter said, "Nothing very particular," and bent over Illuminato, that he might not meet Hilary's eyes or Peggy's. He knew that Hilary was violently startled, and he heard Peggy's softly let out breath, that might have been a sigh or a gentle whistle, and that conveyed in either case dismay touched with a laugh.
Vyvian, who had been watching the three with a covert78 smile, drained his glass and said, "Well, it's supposed to be partly my business, you know. But since you don't think so, I'll say good-night."
He included the three in a supercilious79 nod, and left the room.
He left a queer silence behind him. When it had lasted for a moment, Peter looked up from his inspection80 of Illuminato's screwed-up face, with an effort, and met Hilary's eyes searching his own. Peggy was in the background; later she would be a comforting, easing presence; but for the moment the situation held only these two, and Peter's eyes pleaded to Hilary's, "Forgive me; I am horribly sorry," and in Hilary's strained face shame intolerably grew, so that Peter looked away from it, bending over Illuminato in his arms.
It was Peggy who broke the silence with a tearful laugh.
"Oh, don't look like that, you poor darling boys! Peter, little dear Peter ... you must try and understand! You're good at understanding, you know. Oh, take it easy, my dear! Take it easy, and see how it's nothing to matter, how it's all one great joke after all!" Her arm was round his shoulders as he sat on the table's edge; she was comforting him like a child. To her he was always about Illuminato's age, a most beloved infant.
Peter smiled a little at her. "Why, yes, of course it's a joke. Everything is, isn't it. But ... but...."
He was more than ever a child, stammering81 unwordable protest, blindly reaching out for help.
Hilary stood before him now, with his hands in his pockets, nervous, irritable82, weary, shame now masked by self-defence. That was better; but still Peter kept his eyes for the curled-up child.
"My dear boy," said Hilary, in his sweet, plaintive83 tones, edged with irritation84, "if people like to be taken in, is it my business?"
And Peggy echoed, "Yes, Peter darling, is it Hilary's business?"
Then Peter laughed suddenly. After all, it was all too hopeless, and too absurd, for anything else.
"You can't go on, you know," he said then. "You've got to resign." And Peggy looked at him in surprise, for he spoke85 now like a man instead of a child, with a man's finality. He wasn't giving a command, but stating an obvious fact.
"Darling—we've got to live!" Peggy murmured.
"You mayn't see the necessity," Hilary ironically put the approved answer into Peter's mouth, "but we, unfortunately, do."
"Oh, don't be silly," said Peter unusually. "You are being silly, you know; merely absurd. Because, of course, it's simply a question between resigning and being chucked out before long. You can't go on with this sort of thing indefinitely. You see," he explained, apologetic now, "it isn't even as if you did it well. You really don't. And it's an awfully86 easy thing to see through, if once anyone gets on the track. All that rubbish you've saddled Lord Evelyn with—anyone who isn't as blind as a bat can spot it in a minute. I did; Cheriton has (that's why he's so queer-mannered, by the way, I suppose); probably Denis has. Well, with everyone knowing about it like that, someone is bound before long to ferret out the real facts. Cheriton won't be long, I fancy, before he gets hold of it all. And then—and then it will be so frightfully awkward. Oh, you can't go on, Hilary; you've got to drop it."
"You're talking very lightly," said Hilary, "of throwing up one's entire income."
Peter sighed. "Not lightly; I'm really not. I know what a bore it will be—but not such a bore as the other thing.... Well, then, don't throw it up: simply chuck Stefani and the rest, and run the thing on different lines. I'd help, if you'd let me. I'd chuck Leslie and stay on here and write for you. I would love to. I made a start to-day, you see; I told Stefani he was out of his reckonings, so he'll be prepared. We'll tell all the rest the same.... I suppose Vyvian's in it, too? Can't you get rid of the man? I do so dislike him, you know. Well, never mind; anyhow, we'll tell him he's got to run on new lines now. Oh, we'll make a decent thing of the Gem after all; Hilary, do let's. Peggy, don't you think that would be jolly?"
He looked up into his sister-in-law's face, and met smiling eyes suddenly tear-dimmed. She smiled down at him.
"Very jolly, you beloved child.... So you'll chuck your Mr. Leslie and your own profession and help to run the Gem? I don't think we can let him do that, Hilary, can we?"
"I confess," he said, "that it would be in many ways a great relief to me to drop that side of the business, if I could see my way to it. But it won't be easy now, Peter. It will mean a certain amount of going back on former statements, for one thing."
"Oh, that'll be all right. Papers are always doing that. We'll manage all right and put a good face on it. And we'll make the thing sell—make it funny and interesting and nice. Of course, if Leslie is willing for me to give part of my time to it, there's no reason why I should leave him, as long as he stays in Venice. It will be all in his interests really, because he can get tips from the Gem. I've warned him off it lately because I thought you were such an awful muddler, Hilary. By the way, it's rather a relief that you aren't quite so wanting as I was beginning to fear; seriously, I was wondering how on earth you were going to get through this difficult world. There's no remedy for a muddler; he can't mend."
But a swindler can; a swindler certainly must, that was conveyed by the appeal in Peter's tired face. So tired it was that Peggy gently took Illuminato from his uncle's arms and said, "And now we'll all go to bed. My beloved little brother—you're an angel in the house, and we'll all do just as you say, if it's only to make you smile again. Won't we, Hilary?"
She leant a soft cheek against Hilary's shoulder, smiling at Peter; but Peter waited for Hilary's reply before he smiled back.
Hilary's reply came after a moment.
"Of course, if Peter can contrive88 a way of keeping our heads above water without having recourse to these detestable methods, I shall be only too relieved. I loathe89 having to traffic with these dirty swindlers; it's too insufferably wearying and degrading.... By the way, Peter, what did Stefani want to-day?"
Peter said, "Oh, bother Stefani. I'm tired of him. Really, I can't remember—oh, yes, it was antique vases, that might deceive an expert. But let's stop thinking about Stefani and go to bed. I'm so awfully sleepy; do let's go upstairs and try to get a little rest, as Vyvian puts it."
Peggy patted him softly on the cheek as he passed her, and her smile for him was curiously90 pitiful.
"We'll do our best to mend, my dear; we'll do our best," was what she soothingly91 murmured; and then, to Illuminato, "There, my froglet; cuddle up and sleep," and to Hilary, "You poor old dear, will we let the little brother have his way, because he's a darling entirely, and quite altogether in the right?"
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remarkable
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| adj.显著的，异常的，非凡的，值得注意的 | |
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ponderously
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superfluously
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shudder
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dome
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appreciation
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| n.评价；欣赏；感谢；领会，理解；价格上涨 | |
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bent
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goblet
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resolute
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determined
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stiffen
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| v.(使)硬，(使)变挺，(使)变僵硬 | |
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mortified
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| v.使受辱( mortify的过去式和过去分词 )；伤害（人的感情）；克制；抑制（肉体、情感等） | |
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13
lodging
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| n.寄宿，住所；(大学生的)校外宿舍 | |
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lodger
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| n.寄宿人，房客 | |
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abruptly
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| adv.突然地，出其不意地 | |
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aloof
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| adj.远离的；冷淡的，漠不关心的 | |
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gem
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| n.宝石，珠宝；受爱戴的人 [同]jewel | |
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instinctively
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| adv.本能地 | |
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frightful
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| adj.可怕的；讨厌的 | |
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extraordinarily
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| adv.格外地；极端地 | |
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lagoon
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| n.泻湖，咸水湖 | |
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gondola
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| n.威尼斯的平底轻舟；飞船的吊船 | |
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ass
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| n.驴；傻瓜，蠢笨的人 | |
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plied
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| v.使用（工具）( ply的过去式和过去分词 )；经常供应（食物、饮料）；固定往来；经营生意 | |
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limpid
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| adj.清澈的，透明的 | |
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vice
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| n.坏事；恶习；[pl.]台钳，老虎钳；adj.副的 | |
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persistent
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| adj.坚持不懈的，执意的；持续的 | |
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incorrigibly
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| adv.无法矫正地；屡教不改地；无可救药地；不能矫正地 | |
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speculatively
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| adv.思考地，思索地；投机地 | |
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placidly
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| adv.平稳地，平静地 | |
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uncommonly
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| adv. 稀罕(极，非常) | |
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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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hiss
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| v.发出嘶嘶声；发嘘声表示不满 | |
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grunted
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| （猪等）作呼噜声( grunt的过去式和过去分词 )； （指人）发出类似的哼声； 咕哝着说 | |
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wont
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| adj.习惯于；v.习惯；n.习惯 | |
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equanimity
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| n.沉着，镇定 | |
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halving
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| n.对分，二等分，减半[航空、航海]等分v.把…分成两半( halve的现在分词 )；把…减半；对分；平摊 | |
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spat
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| n.口角，掌击；v.发出呼噜呼噜声 | |
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solicit
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| vi.勾引；乞求；vt.请求，乞求；招揽(生意) | |
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patronage
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| n.赞助，支援，援助；光顾，捧场 | |
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explicit
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| adj.详述的，明确的；坦率的；显然的 | |
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chalice
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| n.圣餐杯；金杯毒酒 | |
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bribe
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| n.贿赂；v.向…行贿，买通 | |
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shrug
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| v.耸肩(表示怀疑、冷漠、不知等) | |
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ushered
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| v.引，领，陪同( usher的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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shrugged
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| vt.耸肩（shrug的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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decency
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| n.体面，得体，合宜，正派，庄重 | |
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astonishment
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| n.惊奇，惊异 | |
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discourteous
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| adj.不恭的，不敬的 | |
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eyebrows
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| 眉毛( eyebrow的名词复数 ) | |
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collapsed
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| adj.倒塌的 | |
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complexion
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| n.肤色；情况，局面；气质，性格 | |
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54
bin
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| n.箱柜；vt.放入箱内；[计算机] DOS文件名:二进制目标文件 | |
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incense
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| v.激怒；n.香，焚香时的烟，香气 | |
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tints
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| 色彩( tint的名词复数 )； 带白的颜色； （淡色）染发剂； 痕迹 | |
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wholesome
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| adj.适合；卫生的；有益健康的；显示身心健康的 | |
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gals
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| abbr.gallons （复数）加仑（液量单位）n.女孩，少女( gal的名词复数 ) | |
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gal
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| n.姑娘，少女 | |
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cryptic
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| adj.秘密的，神秘的，含义模糊的 | |
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illuminated
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| adj.被照明的；受启迪的 | |
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reverted
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| 恢复( revert的过去式和过去分词 )； 重提； 回到…上； 归还 | |
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vaguely
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| adv.含糊地，暖昧地 | |
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beads
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| n.（空心）小珠子( bead的名词复数 )；水珠；珠子项链 | |
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reticence
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| n.沉默，含蓄 | |
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66
abide
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| vi.遵守；坚持；vt.忍受 | |
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Christian
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| adj.基督教徒的；n.基督教徒 | |
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toad
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| n.蟾蜍，癞蛤蟆 | |
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69
prattle
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| n.闲谈；v.（小孩般）天真无邪地说话；发出连续而无意义的声音 | |
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dubious
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| adj.怀疑的，无把握的；有问题的，靠不住的 | |
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irony
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| n.反语，冷嘲；具有讽刺意味的事，嘲弄 | |
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72
secrecy
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| n.秘密，保密，隐蔽 | |
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73
kindly
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| adj.和蔼的，温和的，爽快的；adv.温和地，亲切地 | |
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74
embarked
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| 乘船( embark的过去式和过去分词 )； 装载； 从事 | |
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75
soda
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| n.苏打水；汽水 | |
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76
entirely
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| ad.全部地，完整地；完全地，彻底地 | |
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77
privy
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| adj.私用的；隐密的 | |
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78
covert
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| adj.隐藏的；暗地里的 | |
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79
supercilious
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| adj.目中无人的，高傲的；adv.高傲地；n.高傲 | |
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80
inspection
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| n.检查，审查，检阅 | |
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81
stammering
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| v.结巴地说出( stammer的现在分词 ) | |
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82
irritable
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| adj.急躁的；过敏的；易怒的 | |
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plaintive
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| adj.可怜的，伤心的 | |
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84
irritation
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| n.激怒，恼怒，生气 | |
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85
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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86
awfully
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| adv.可怕地，非常地，极端地 | |
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87
softened
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| （使）变软( soften的过去式和过去分词 )； 缓解打击； 缓和； 安慰 | |
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88
contrive
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| vt.谋划，策划；设法做到；设计，想出 | |
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89
loathe
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| v.厌恶，嫌恶 | |
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90
curiously
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| adv.有求知欲地；好问地；奇特地 | |
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soothingly
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| adv.抚慰地，安慰地；镇痛地 | |
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