If it be true that love is the great incentive1 to the useless arts, the number of gentlemen who became poets for the sake of Miss Betty Carewe need not be considered extraordinary. Of all that was written of her dancing, Tom Vanrevel's lines, “I Danced with Her beneath the Lights” (which he certainly had not done when he wrote them) were, perhaps, next to Crailey Gray's in merit, though Tom burned his rhymes after reading them to Crailey. Other troubadours were not so modest, and the Rouen Journal found no lack of tuneful offering, that spring, generously print-ing all of it, even at the period when it became epidemic2. The public had little difficulty in recognizing the work of Mr. Francis Chenoweth in an anonymous3 “Sonnet” (of twenty-three lines) which appeared in the issue following Miss Carewe's debut4. Mr. Chenoweth wrote that while dancing the mazourka with a Lovely Being, the sweetest feelings of his soul, in a celestial5 stream, bore him away beyond control, in a seraphic dream; and he untruthfully stated that at the same time he saw her wipe the silent tear, omitting, however, to venture any explanation of the cause of her emotion. Old General Trumble boldly signed his poem in full. It was called “An Ode upon Miss C—'s Waltzing,” and it began:
“When Bettina found fair Rouen's shore, And her aged6 father to us bore Her from the cloister7 neat, She waltzed upon the ball-room floor, And lightly twirled upon her feet.”
Mr. Carewe was rightfully indignant, and refused to acknowledge the General's salutation at their next meeting: Trumble was fifteen years older than he.
As Crailey Gray never danced with Miss Carewe, it is somewhat singular that she should have been the inspiration of his swinging verses in waltz measure, “Heart-strings on a Violin,” the sense of which was that when a violin had played for her dancing, the instrument should be shattered as wine-glasses are after a great toast. However, no one, except the author himself, knew that Betty was the subject; for Crailey certainly did not mention it to Miss Bareaud, nor to his best friend, Vanrevel.
It was to some degree a strange comradeship between these two young men; their tastes led them so often in opposite directions. They had rooms to-gether over their offices in the “Madrillon Block” on Main Street, and the lights shone late from their windows every night in the year. Sometimes that would mean only that the two friends were talking, for they never reached a silent intimacy8, but, even after several years of companionship, were rarely seen together when not in interested, often eager, conversation, so that people wondered what in the world they still found to say to each other. But many a night the late-shining lamp meant that Tom sat alone, with a brief or a book, or wooed the long hours with his magical guitar. For he never went to bed until the other came home.
And if daylight came without Crailey, Vanrevel would go out, yawning mightily9, to look for him; and when there was no finding him, Tom would come back, sleepless10, to the day's work. Crailey was called “peculiar11” and he explained, with a kind of jovial12 helplessness, that he was always prepared for the unexpected in himself, nor did such a view detract from his picturesqueness13 to his own perusal14 of himself; though it was not only to himself that he was interesting. To the vision of the lookers-on in Rouen, quiet souls who hovered15 along the walls at merry-makings and cheerfully counted themselves spectators at the play, Crailey Gray held the centre of the stage and was the chief comedian16 of the place. Wit, poet, and scapegrace, the small society sometimes seemed the mere17 background set for his performances, spectacles which he, also, enjoyed, and from the best seat in the house; for he was not content as the actor, but must be the Prince in the box as well.
His friendship for Tom Vanrevel was, in a measure, that of the vine for the oak. He was full of levities18 at Tom's expense, which the other bore with a grin of sympathetic comprehension, or, at long intervals19, returned upon Crailey with devastating20 effect. Vanrevel was the one steadying thing in his life, and, at the same time, the only one of the young men upon whom he did not have an almost mesmeric influence. In good truth, Crailey was the ringleader in all the devilries of the town. Many a youth swore to avoid the roisterer's company for all time, and, within two hours of the vow21, found himself, flagon in hand, engaged in a bout22 that would last the night, with Mr. Gray out-bumpering the hardiest23, at the head of the table. And, the next morning, the fevered, scarlet-eyed perjurer24 might creep shaking to his wretched tasks, only to behold25 the cause of his folly26 and headache tripping merrily along the street, smiling, clean-shaven, and fresh as a dew-born primrose27, with, perchance, two or three of the prettiest girls in town at his elbow to greet his sallies with approving laughter.
Crailey had been so long in the habit of following every impulse, no matter how mad, that he enjoyed an almost perfect immunity28 from condemnation29, and, whatever his deeds, Rouen had learned to say, with a chuckle30, that it was “only Crailey Gray again.” But his followers31 were not so privileged. Thus, when Mr. Gray, who in his libations sometimes developed the humor of an urchin32, went to the Pound at three in the morning of New Year's Day, hung sleigh-bells about the necks of the cattle and drove them up and down the streets, himself hideously33 blowing a bass34 horn from the back of a big brown steer35, those roused from slumber36 ceased to rage, and accepted the exploit as a rare joke, on learning that it was “only Crailey Gray;” but the unfortunate young Chenoweth was heavily frowned upon and properly upbraided37 because he had followed in the wake of the bovine38 procession, mildly attempting to play upon a flageolet.
Crailey never denied a folly nor defended an escapade. The latter was always done for him, because he talked of his “graceless misdoings” (so he was wont39, smilingly, to call them) over cups of tea in the afternoons with old ladies, lamenting40, in his musical voice, the lack of female relatives to guide him. He was charmingly attentive41 to the elderly women, not from policy, but because his manner was uncontrollably chivalrous42; and, ever a gallant43 listener, were the speaker young, old, great or humble44, he never forgot to catch the last words of a sentence, and seldom suffered for a reply, even when he had drowsed through a question. Moreover, no one ever heard him speak a sullen45 word, nor saw him wear a brow of depression. The single creed46 to which he was constant was that of good cheer; he was the very apostle of gayety, preaching it in parlor47 and bar; and made merry friends with battered48 tramps and homeless dogs in the streets at night.
Now and then he would spend several days in the offices of Gray & Vanrevel, Attorneys and Counsellors-at-Law, wearing an air of unassailable virtue49; though he did not far overstate the case when he said, “Tom does all the work and gives me all the money not to bother him when he's getting up a case.”
The working member of the firm got up cases to notable effect, and few lawyers in the State enjoyed having Tom Vanrevel on the other side. There was nothing about him of the floridity prevalent at that time; he withered50 “oratory” before the court; he was the foe52 of jury pathos53; and, despising noise and the habitual54 voice-dip at the end of a sentence, was, nevertheless, at times an almost fearfully effective orator51. So, by degrees the firm of Gray & Vanrevel, young as it was, and in spite of the idle apprentice55, had grown to be the most prosperous in the district. For this eminence56 Crailey was never accused of assuming the credit. Nor did he ever miss an opportunity of making known how much he owed to his partner. What he owed, in brief, was everything. How well Vanrevel worked was demonstrated every day, but how hard he worked, only Crailey knew. The latter had grown to depend upon him for even his political beliefs, and lightly followed his partner into Abolitionism; though that was to risk unpopularity, bitter hatred57, and worse. Fortunately, on certain occasions, Vanrevel had made himself (if not his creed) respected, at least so far that there was no longer danger of mob-violence for an Abolitionist in Rouen. He was a cool-headed young man ordinarily, and possessed58 of an elusive59 forcefulness not to be trifled with, though he was a quiet man, and had what they called a “fine manner.” And, not in the latter, but in his dress, there was an echo of the Beau, which afforded Mr. Gray a point of attack for sallies of wit; there was a touch of the dandy about Vanrevel; he had a large and versatile60 wardrobe, and his clothes always fit him not only in line but in color; even women saw how nobly they were fashioned.
These two young men were members of a cheerful band, who feasted, laughed, wrangled61 over politics, danced, made love, and sang terrible chords on summer evenings, together, as young men will. Will Cummings, editor of the Rouen Journal, was one of these; a tall, sallow man, very thin, very awkward and very gentle. Mr. Cummings proved himself always ready with a loud and friendly laugh for the poorest joke in the world, his countenance62 shining with such kindness that no one ever had the heart to reproach him with the evils of his journalistic performances, or for the things he broke when he danced. Another was Tappingham Marsh63, an exceedingly handsome person, somewhat languid in appearance, dainty in manner with women, offhand64 with men; almost as reckless as Crailey, and often the latter's companion and assistant in dissipation. Young Francis Chenoweth never failed to follow both into whatever they planned; he was short and pink, and the uptilt of his nose was coherent with the appealing earnest-ness which was habitual with him. Eugene Madrillon was the sixth of these intimates; a dark man, whose Latin eyes and color advertised his French ancestry65 as plainly as his emotionless mouth and lack of gesture betrayed the mingling66 of another strain.
All these, and others of the town, were wont to “talk politics” a great deal at the little club on Main Street and all were apt to fall foul67 of Tom Vanrevel or Crailey Gray before the end of any discussion. For those were the days when they twisted the Lion's tail in vehement68 and bitter earnest; when the eagle screamed in mixed figures; when few men knew how to talk, and many orated; when party strife69 was savagely70 personal; when intolerance was called the “pure fire of patriotism;” when criticism of the existing order of things surely incurred71 fiery72 anathema73 and black invective74; and brave was he, indeed, who dared to hint that his country, as a whole and politically, did lack some two or three particular virtues75, and that the first step toward obtaining them would be to help it to realize their absence.
This latter point-of-view was that of the firm of Gray & Vanrevel, which was a unit in such matters. Crailey did most of the talking—quite beautifully, too—and both had to stand against odds76 in many a sour argument, for they were not only Abolitionists, but opposed the attitude of their country in its difficulty with Mexico; and, in common with other men of the time who took their stand, they had to grow accustomed to being called Disloyal Traitors77, Foreign Toadies78, Malignants, and Traducers of the Flag. Tom had long been used to epithets79 of this sort, suffering their sting in quiet, and was glad when he could keep Crailey out of worse employment than standing80 firm for an unpopular belief.
There was one place to which Vanrevel, seeking his friend and partner, when the latter did not come home at night, could not go; this was the Tower Chamber81, and it was in that mysterious apartment of the Carewe cupola that Crailey was apt to be deeply occupied when he remained away until daylight. Strange as it appears, Mr. Gray maintained peculiar relations of intimacy with Robert Carewe, in spite of the feud82 between Carewe and his own best friend. This intimacy, which did not necessarily imply any mutual83 fondness (though Crailey seemed to dislike nobody), was betokened84 by a furtive85 understanding, of a sort, between them. They held brief, earnest conversations on the street, or in corners when they met at other people's houses, always speaking in voices too low to be overheard; and they exercised a mysterious symbolism, somewhat in the manner of fellow members of a secret society: they had been observed to communicate across crowded rooms, by lifted eyebrow86, nod of head, or a surreptitious turn of the wrist: so that those who observed them knew that a question had been asked and answered.
It was noticed, also, that there were five other initiates87 to this masonry88: Eugene Madrillon, the elder Chenoweth, General Trumble, Tappingham Marsh, and Jefferson Bareaud. Thus, on the afternoon following Miss Betty's introduction to Rouen's favorite sons and daughters, Mr. Carewe, driving down Main Street, held up one forefinger89 to Madrillon as he saw the young man turning in at the club. Eugene nodded gravely, and, as he went in, discovering Marsh, the General, and others, listening to Mr. Gray's explanation of his return from the river with no fish, stealthily held up one finger in his turn. Trumble replied with a wink90, Tappingham nodded, but Crailey slightly shook his head. Marsh and the General started with surprise, and stared incredulously. That Crailey should shake his head! If the signal had been for a church-meeting they might have understood.
Mr. Gray's conduct was surprising two other people at about the same time: Tom Vanrevel and Fanchon Bareaud; the former by his sudden devotion to the law; the latter by her sudden devotion to herself. In a breath, he became almost a domestic character. No more did he spend his afternoons between the club and the Rouen House bar, nor was his bay mare91 so often seen stamping down the ground about Mrs. McDougal's hitching-post while McDougal was out on the prairie with his engineering squad92. The idle apprentice was at his desk, and in the daytime he displayed an aversion for the streets, which was more than his partner did, for the industrious93 Tom, undergoing quite as remarkable94 an alteration95 of habit, became, all at once, little better than a corner-loafer. His favorite lounging-place was a small drug-store where Carewe Street debouched upon Main; nevertheless, so adhesive96 is a reputation once fastened, his air of being there upon business deceived everyone except Mr. Gray.
Miss Bareaud was even happier than she was astonished (and she was mightily astonished) to find her betrothed97 developing a taste for her society alone. Formerly98, she had counted upon the gayeties of her home to keep Crailey near her; now, however, he told her tenderly he wished to have her all to himself. This was not like him, but Fanchon did not question; and it was very sweet to her that he began to make it his custom to come in by a side gate and meet her under an apple-tree in the dusk, where they would sit quietly together through the evening, listening to the noise and laughter from the lighted house.
That house was the most hospitable99 in Rouen. Always cheerfully “full of company,” as they said, it was the sort of house where a carpet-dance could be arranged in half an hour; a house with a sideboard like the widow's cruse; the young men always found more. Mrs. Bareaud, a Southerner, loving to persuade the visitor that her home was his, not hers, lived only for her art, which was that of the table. Evil cooks, taking service with her, became virtuous100, dealt with nectar and ambrosia101, and grew fit to pander102 to Olympus, learning of their mistress secrets to make the ill-disposed as genial103 gods ere they departed. Mr. Bareaud at fifty had lived so well that he gave up walking, which did not trouble him; but at sixty he gave up dancing, which did trouble him. His only hope, he declared, was in Crailey Gray's promise to invent for him: a concave partner.
There was a thin, quizzing shank of a son, Jefferson, who lived upon quinine, ague and deviltry; and there were the two daughters, Fanchon and Virginia. The latter was three years older than Fanchon, as dark as Fanchon was fair, though not nearly so pretty: a small, good-natured, romping104 sprite of a girl, who had handed down the heart and hand of Crailey Gray to her sister with the best grace in the world. For she had been the heroine of one of Mr. Gray's half-dozen or so most serious affairs, and, after a furious rivalry105 with Mr. Carewe, the victory was generally conceded to Crailey. His triumph had been of about a fort-night's duration when Fanchon returned from St. Mary's; and, with the advent106 of the younger sister, the elder, who had decided107 that Crailey was the incomparable she had dreamed of since infancy108, was generously allowed to discover that he was not that vision—that she had fallen in love with her own idea of him; whereas Fanchon cared only that he be Crailey Gray, whatever kind of vision that was. And Fanchon discovered that it was a great many kinds.
The transfer was made comfortably, with nice judgment109 of a respectable interregnum, and to the greater happiness of each of the three young people; no objection ensuing from the easy-going parents, who were devotedly110 fond of Crailey, while the town laughed and said it was only that absurd Crailey Gray again. He and Virginia were the best of friends, and accepted their new relation with a preposterous111 lack of embarrassment112.
To be in love with Crailey became Fanchon's vocation113; she spent all her time at it, and produced a blurred114 effect upon strangers. The only man with whom she seemed quite alive was Vanrevel: a little because Tom talked of Crailey, and a great deal because she could talk of Crailey to Tom; could tell him freely, as she could tell no one else, how wonderful Crailey was, and explain to him her lover's vagaries115 on the ground that it was a necessity of geniuses to be unlike the less gifted. Nor was she alone in suspecting Mr. Gray of genius: in the first place, he was so odd; in the second, his poems were “already attracting more than local attention,” as the Journal remarked, generously, for Crailey had ceased to present his rhymes to that valuable paper. Ay! Boston, no less, was his mart.
He was rather radical116 in his literary preferences, and hurt the elder Chenoweth's feelings by laughing heartily117 at some poems of the late Lord Byron; offended many people by disliking the style of Sir Edward Bulwer, and even refused to admit that James Fenimore Cooper was the greatest novelist that ever lived. But these things were as nothing compared with his unpatriotic defence of Charles Dickens. Many Americans had fallen into a great rage over the vivacious118 assault upon the United States in “Martin Chuzzlewit;” nevertheless, Crailey still boldly hailed him (as everyone had heretofore agreed) the most dexterous119 writer of his day and the most notable humorist of any day. Of course the Englishman had not visited and thoroughly120 studied such a city as Rouen, Crailey confessed, twinklingly; but, after all, wasn't there some truth in “Martin Chuzzlewit?” Mr. Dickens might have been far from a clear understanding of our people; but didn't it argue a pretty ticklish121 vanity in ourselves that we were so fiercely resentful of satire122; and was not this very heat over “Martin Chuzzlewit” a confirmation123 of one of the points the book had presented against us? General Trumble replied to this suggestion with a personal one to the effect that a man capable of saying a good word for so monstrous124 a slander125, that a man, sir, capable of declaring his native country to be vain or sensitive ought to be horsewhipped, and at this Crailey laughed consumedly.
Trumble retorted with the names of Benedict Arnold and Aaron Burr. “And if it comes to a war with these Greasers,” he spluttered apoplectically126, “and it is coming, mighty127 soon, we'll find Mr. Gray down in Mexico, throwing mud on the Stars and Stripes and cheering for that one-legged horse-thief, Santa Anna! Anything to seek out something foolish amongst your own people!”
“Don't have to seek far, sometimes, General,” murmured Crailey, from the depths of the best chair in the club, whereupon Trumble, not trusting himself to answer, went out to the street.
And yet, before that same evening was over, the General had shed honest tears of admiration128 and pity for Crailey Gray; and Miss Betty saw her Incroyable again, for that night (the second after the Carewe dance) Rouen beheld129 the great warehouse130 tire.
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1
incentive
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| n.刺激；动力；鼓励；诱因；动机 | |
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epidemic
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| n.流行病；盛行；adj.流行性的，流传极广的 | |
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anonymous
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| adj.无名的；匿名的；无特色的 | |
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debut
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| n.首次演出，初次露面 | |
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celestial
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| adj.天体的；天上的 | |
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aged
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| adj.年老的，陈年的 | |
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cloister
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| n.修道院；v.隐退，使与世隔绝 | |
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intimacy
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| n.熟悉，亲密，密切关系，亲昵的言行 | |
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mightily
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| ad.强烈地；非常地 | |
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sleepless
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| adj.不睡眠的，睡不著的，不休息的 | |
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peculiar
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| adj.古怪的，异常的；特殊的，特有的 | |
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jovial
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| adj.快乐的，好交际的 | |
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picturesqueness
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perusal
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| n.细读，熟读；目测 | |
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hovered
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| 鸟( hover的过去式和过去分词 )； 靠近（某事物）； （人）徘徊； 犹豫 | |
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comedian
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| n.喜剧演员；滑稽演员 | |
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17
mere
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| adj.纯粹的；仅仅，只不过 | |
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levities
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| n.欠考虑( levity的名词复数 )；不慎重；轻率；轻浮 | |
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intervals
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| n.[军事]间隔( interval的名词复数 )；间隔时间；[数学]区间；（戏剧、电影或音乐会的）幕间休息 | |
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devastating
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| adj.毁灭性的，令人震惊的，强有力的 | |
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vow
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| n.誓(言)，誓约；v.起誓，立誓 | |
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bout
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| n.侵袭，发作；一次(阵，回)；拳击等比赛 | |
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hardiest
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| 能吃苦耐劳的，坚强的( hardy的最高级 )； （植物等）耐寒的 | |
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perjurer
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| n.伪誓者，伪证者 | |
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behold
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| v.看，注视，看到 | |
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folly
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| n.愚笨，愚蠢，蠢事，蠢行，傻话 | |
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primrose
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| n.樱草，最佳部分， | |
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immunity
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| n.优惠；免除；豁免，豁免权 | |
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condemnation
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| n.谴责; 定罪 | |
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chuckle
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| vi.／n.轻声笑，咯咯笑 | |
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followers
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| 追随者( follower的名词复数 )； 用户； 契据的附面； 从动件 | |
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urchin
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| n.顽童；海胆 | |
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hideously
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| adv.可怕地，非常讨厌地 | |
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bass
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| n.男低音(歌手)；低音乐器；低音大提琴 | |
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steer
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| vt.驾驶，为…操舵；引导；vi.驾驶 | |
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slumber
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| n.睡眠，沉睡状态 | |
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upbraided
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| v.责备，申斥，谴责( upbraid的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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bovine
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| adj.牛的；n.牛 | |
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wont
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| adj.习惯于；v.习惯；n.习惯 | |
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lamenting
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| adj.悲伤的，悲哀的v.（为…）哀悼，痛哭，悲伤( lament的现在分词 ) | |
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attentive
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| adj.注意的，专心的；关心(别人)的，殷勤的 | |
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42
chivalrous
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| adj.武士精神的；对女人彬彬有礼的 | |
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gallant
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| adj.英勇的，豪侠的；(向女人)献殷勤的 | |
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humble
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| adj.谦卑的，恭顺的；地位低下的；v.降低，贬低 | |
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45
sullen
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| adj.愠怒的，闷闷不乐的，(天气等)阴沉的 | |
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46
creed
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| n.信条；信念，纲领 | |
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parlor
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| n.店铺，营业室；会客室，客厅 | |
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48
battered
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| adj.磨损的；v.连续猛击；磨损 | |
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virtue
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| n.德行，美德；贞操；优点；功效，效力 | |
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50
withered
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| adj. 枯萎的，干瘪的，（人身体的部分器官）因病萎缩的或未发育良好的 动词wither的过去式和过去分词形式 | |
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51
orator
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| n.演说者，演讲者，雄辩家 | |
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52
foe
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| n.敌人，仇敌 | |
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53
pathos
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| n.哀婉，悲怆 | |
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54
habitual
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| adj.习惯性的；通常的，惯常的 | |
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55
apprentice
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| n.学徒，徒弟 | |
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56
eminence
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| n.卓越，显赫；高地，高处；名家 | |
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57
hatred
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| n.憎恶，憎恨，仇恨 | |
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58
possessed
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| adj.疯狂的；拥有的，占有的 | |
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59
elusive
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| adj.难以表达(捉摸)的；令人困惑的；逃避的 | |
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60
versatile
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| adj.通用的，万用的；多才多艺的，多方面的 | |
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61
wrangled
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| v.争吵，争论，口角( wrangle的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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62
countenance
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| n.脸色，面容；面部表情；vt.支持，赞同 | |
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63
marsh
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| n.沼泽，湿地 | |
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64
offhand
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| adj.临时，无准备的；随便，马虎的 | |
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65
ancestry
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| n.祖先，家世 | |
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66
mingling
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| adj.混合的 | |
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67
foul
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| adj.污秽的；邪恶的；v.弄脏；妨害；犯规；n.犯规 | |
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68
vehement
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| adj.感情强烈的；热烈的；(人)有强烈感情的 | |
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69
strife
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| n.争吵，冲突，倾轧，竞争 | |
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70
savagely
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| adv. 野蛮地，残酷地 | |
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71
incurred
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| [医]招致的，遭受的； incur的过去式 | |
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72
fiery
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| adj.燃烧着的，火红的；暴躁的；激烈的 | |
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73
anathema
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| n.诅咒；被诅咒的人(物)，十分讨厌的人(物) | |
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74
invective
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| n.痛骂，恶意抨击 | |
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75
virtues
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| 美德( virtue的名词复数 )； 德行； 优点； 长处 | |
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76
odds
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| n.让步，机率，可能性，比率；胜败优劣之别 | |
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77
traitors
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| 卖国贼( traitor的名词复数 )； 叛徒； 背叛者； 背信弃义的人 | |
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78
toadies
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| n.谄媚者，马屁精( toady的名词复数 )v.拍马，谄媚( toady的第三人称单数 ) | |
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79
epithets
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| n.（表示性质、特征等的）词语( epithet的名词复数 ) | |
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80
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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81
chamber
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| n.房间，寝室；会议厅；议院；会所 | |
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82
feud
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| n.长期不和；世仇；v.长期争斗；世代结仇 | |
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83
mutual
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| adj.相互的，彼此的；共同的，共有的 | |
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84
betokened
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| v.预示，表示( betoken的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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85
furtive
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| adj.鬼鬼崇崇的，偷偷摸摸的 | |
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86
eyebrow
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| n.眉毛，眉 | |
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87
initiates
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| v.开始( initiate的第三人称单数 )；传授；发起；接纳新成员 | |
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88
masonry
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| n.砖土建筑；砖石 | |
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89
forefinger
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| n.食指 | |
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90
wink
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| n.眨眼，使眼色，瞬间；v.眨眼，使眼色，闪烁 | |
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91
mare
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| n.母马，母驴 | |
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92
squad
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| n.班，小队，小团体；vt.把…编成班或小组 | |
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industrious
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| adj.勤劳的，刻苦的，奋发的 | |
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94
remarkable
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| adj.显著的，异常的，非凡的，值得注意的 | |
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95
alteration
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| n.变更，改变；蚀变 | |
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96
adhesive
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| n.粘合剂；adj.可粘着的，粘性的 | |
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97
betrothed
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| n. 已订婚者 动词betroth的过去式和过去分词 | |
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98
formerly
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| adv.从前，以前 | |
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99
hospitable
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| adj.好客的；宽容的；有利的，适宜的 | |
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100
virtuous
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| adj.有品德的，善良的，贞洁的，有效力的 | |
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101
ambrosia
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| n.神的食物；蜂食 | |
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102
pander
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| v.迎合；n.拉皮条者，勾引者；帮人做坏事的人 | |
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103
genial
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| adj.亲切的，和蔼的，愉快的，脾气好的 | |
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104
romping
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| adj.嬉戏喧闹的，乱蹦乱闹的v.嬉笑玩闹( romp的现在分词 )；（尤指在赛跑或竞选等中）轻易获胜 | |
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105
rivalry
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| n.竞争，竞赛，对抗 | |
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106
advent
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| n.(重要事件等的)到来，来临 | |
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107
decided
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| adj.决定了的，坚决的；明显的，明确的 | |
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108
infancy
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| n.婴儿期；幼年期；初期 | |
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109
judgment
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| n.审判；判断力，识别力，看法，意见 | |
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110
devotedly
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| 专心地； 恩爱地； 忠实地； 一心一意地 | |
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111
preposterous
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| adj.荒谬的，可笑的 | |
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112
embarrassment
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| n.尴尬；使人为难的人(事物)；障碍；窘迫 | |
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113
vocation
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| n.职业，行业 | |
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114
blurred
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| v.（使）变模糊( blur的过去式和过去分词 )；（使）难以区分；模模糊糊；迷离 | |
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115
vagaries
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| n.奇想( vagary的名词复数 )；异想天开；异常行为；难以预测的情况 | |
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116
radical
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| n.激进份子，原子团，根号；adj.根本的，激进的，彻底的 | |
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117
heartily
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| adv.衷心地，诚恳地，十分，很 | |
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118
vivacious
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| adj.活泼的，快活的 | |
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119
dexterous
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| adj.灵敏的；灵巧的 | |
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120
thoroughly
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| adv.完全地，彻底地，十足地 | |
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121
ticklish
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| adj.怕痒的；问题棘手的；adv.怕痒地；n.怕痒，小心处理 | |
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122
satire
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| n.讽刺，讽刺文学，讽刺作品 | |
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123
confirmation
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| n.证实，确认，批准 | |
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124
monstrous
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| adj.巨大的；恐怖的；可耻的，丢脸的 | |
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125
slander
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| n./v.诽谤，污蔑 | |
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126
apoplectically
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| Apoplectically | |
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127
mighty
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| adj.强有力的；巨大的 | |
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128
admiration
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| n.钦佩，赞美，羡慕 | |
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129
beheld
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| v.看，注视( behold的过去式和过去分词 )；瞧；看呀；（叙述中用于引出某人意外的出现）哎哟 | |
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130
warehouse
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| n.仓库；vt.存入仓库 | |
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