There is great bustle1 and confusion in the house of Mr. Bates. Mantua-makers and milliners are coming in at unearthly hours, and consultations2 of deep importance are being duly held with maiden3 aunts and the young ladies who are to officiate as bridesmaids at the approaching ceremony. There are daily excursions to drapers' establishments, and jewellers, and, in fact, so much to be done and thought of, that little Birdie is in constant confusion, and her dear little curly head is almost turned topsy-turvy. Twenty times in each day is she called upstairs to where the sempstresses are at work, to have something tried on or fitted. Poor little Birdie! she declares she never can stand it: she did not dream that to be married she would have been subjected to such a world of trouble, or she would never have consented,—never!
And then Clarence, too, comes in every morning, and remains4 half the day, teasing her to play, to talk, or sing. Inconsiderate Clarence! when she has so much on her mind; and when at last he goes, and she begins to felicitate herself that she is rid of him, back he comes again in the evening, and repeats the same annoyance5. O, naughty, tiresome6, Clarence! how can you plague little Birdie so? Perhaps you think she doesn't dislike it; you may be right, very likely she doesn't.
She sometimes wonders why he grows paler and thinner each day, and his nervous and sometimes distracted manner teases her dreadfully; but she supposes all lovers act thus, and expects they cannot help it—and then little Birdie takes a sly peep in the glass, and does not so much wonder after all.
Yet if she sometimes deems his manner startling and odd, what would she say if she knew that, night after night, when he left her side, he wandered for long hours through the cold and dreary7 streets, and then went to his hotel, where he paced his room until almost day?
Ah, little Birdie, a smile will visit his pale face when you chirp8 tenderly to him, and a faint tinge9 comes upon his cheek when you lay your soft tiny hand upon it; yet all the while there is that desperate secret lying next his heart, and, like a vampire10, sucking away, drop by drop, happiness and peace.
Not so with little Birdie; she is happy—oh, so happy: she rises with a song upon her lips, and is chirping11 in the sunshine she herself creates, the live-long day. Flowers of innocence12 bloom and flourish in her peaceful lithesome heart. Poor, poor, little Birdie! those flowers are destined13 to wither14 soon, and the sunlight fade from thy happy face for ever.
One morning, Clarence, little Birdie, and her intended bridesmaid, Miss Ellstowe, were chatting together, when a card was handed to the latter, who, on looking at it, exclaimed, "Oh, dear me! an old beau of mine; show him up," and scampering15 off to the mirror, she gave a hasty glance, to see that every curl was in its effective position.
"Who is it?" asked little Birdie, all alive with curiosity; "do say who it is."
"Hush16!" whispered Miss Ellstowe, "here he comes, my dear; he is very rich—a great catch; are my curls all right?"
Scarcely had she asked the question, and before an answer could be returned, the servant announced Mr. George Stevens, and the gentleman walked into the room.
Start not, reader, it is not the old man we left bent17 over the prostrate18 form of his unconscious daughter, but George Stevens, junior, the son and heir of the old man aforesaid. The heart of Clarence almost ceased to beat at the sound of that well-known name, and had not both the ladies been so engrossed19 in observing the new-comer, they must have noticed the deep flush that suffused20 his face, and the deathly pallor that succeeded it.
Mr. Stevens was presented to Miss Bates, and Miss Ellstowe turned to present him to Clarence. "Mr. Garie—Mr. Stevens," said she. Clarence bowed.
"Pardon me, I did not catch the name," said the former, politely.
"Mr. Clarence Garie," she repeated, more distinctly.
George Stevens bowed, and then sitting down opposite Clarence, eyed him for a few moments intently. "I think we have met before," said he at last, in a cold, contemptuous tone, not unmingled with surprise, "have we not?"
Clarence endeavoured to answer, but could not; he was, for a moment, incapable21 of speech; a slight gurgling noise was heard in his throat, as he bowed affirmatively.
"We were neighbours at one time, I think," added George Stevens.
"We were," faintly ejaculated Clarence.
"It is a great surprise to me to meet you here," pursued George Stevens.
"The surprise is mutual22, I assure you, sir," rejoined Clarence, coldly, and with slightly agitated23 manner.
Hereupon ensued an embarrassing pause in the conversation, during which the ladies could not avoid observing the livid hue24 of Clarence's face. There was a perfect tumult25 raging in his breast; he knew that now his long-treasured secret would be brought out; this was to be the end of his struggle to preserve it—to be exposed at last, when on the brink26 of consummating27 his happiness. As he sat there, looking at George Stevens, he became a murderer in his heart; and if an invisible dagger28 could have been placed in his hands, he would have driven it to the hilt in his breast, and stilled for ever the tongue that was destined to betray him.
But it was too late; one glance at the contemptuous, malignant29 face of the son of his father's murderer, told him his fate was sealed—that it was now too late to avert30 exposure. He grew faint, dizzy, ill,—and rising, declared hurriedly he must go, staggered towards the door, and fell upon the carpet, with a slight stream of blood spirting from his mouth.
Little Birdie screamed, and ran to raise him; George Stevens and Miss Ellstowe gave their assistance, and by their united efforts he was placed upon the sofa. Little Birdie wiped the bloody32 foam33 from his mouth with her tiny lace handkerchief, bathed his head, and held cold water to his lips; but consciousness was long returning, and they thought he was dying.
Poor torn heart! pity it was thy beatings were not stilled then for ever. It was not thy fate; long, long months of grief and despair were yet to come before the end approached and day again broke upon thee.
Just at this crisis Mr. Bates came in, and was greatly shocked and alarmed by Clarence's deathly appearance. As he returned to consciousness he looked wildly about him, and clasping little Birdie's hand in his, gazed at her with a tender imploring34 countenance35: yet it was a despairing look—such a one as a shipwrecked seaman36 gives when, in sight of land, he slowly relaxes his hold upon the sustaining spar that he has no longer the strength to clutch, and sinks for ever beneath the waters.
A physician was brought in, who declared he had ruptured37 a minor38 blood-vessel, and would not let him utter a whisper, and, assisted by Mr. Bates, placed him in his carriage, and the three were driven as swiftly as possible to the hotel where Clarence was staying. Little Birdie retired39 to her room in great affliction, followed by Miss Ellstowe, and George Stevens was left in the room alone.
"What can the fellow have been doing here?" he soliloquised; "on intimate terms too, apparently40; it is very singular; I will wait Miss Ellstowe's return, and ask an explanation."
When Miss Ellstowe re-entered the room, he immediately inquired, "What was that Mr. Garie doing here? He seems on an exceedingly intimate footing, and your friend apparently takes a wonderful interest in him."
"Of course she does; that is her fiance."
"Impossible!" rejoined he, with an air of astonishment41.
"Impossible!—why so? I assure you he is. They are to be married in a few weeks. I am here to officiate as bridesmaid."
"Phew!" whistled George Stevens; and then, after pausing a moment, he asked, "Do you know anything about this Mr. Garie—anything, I mean, respecting his family?"
"Why, no—that is, nothing very definite, more than that he is an orphan42, and a gentleman of education and independent means."
"Humph!" ejaculated George Stevens, significantly.
"Humph!" repeated Miss Ellstowe, "what do you mean? Do you know anything beyond that? One might suppose you did, from your significant looks and gestures."
"Yes, I do know something about this Mr. Garie," he replied, after a short silence. "But tell me what kind of people are these you are visiting—Abolitionists, or anything of that sort?"
"How absurd, Mr. Stevens, to ask such a question; of course they are not," said she, indignantly; "do you suppose I should be here if they were? But why do you ask—is this Mr. Garie one?"
"No, my friend," answered her visitor; "I wish that was all."
"That was all!—how strangely you talk—you alarm me," continued she, with considerable agitation43. "If you know anything that will injure the happiness of my friend—anything respecting Mr. Garie that she or her father should know—make no secret of it, but disclose it to me at once. Anne is my dearest friend, and I, of course, must be interested in anything that concerns her happiness. Tell me, what is it you know?"
"It is nothing, I assure you, that it will give me any pleasure to tell," answered he. "Do speak out, Mr. Stevens. Is there any stain on his character, or that of his family? Did he ever do anything dishonourable?"
"I wish that was all," coolly repeated George Stevens. "I am afraid he is a villain45, and has been imposing46 himself upon this family for what he is not."
"Good Heavens! Mr. Stevens, how is he a villain or impostor?"
"You all suppose him to be a white man, do you not?" he asked.
"Then you are all grievously mistaken, for he is not. Did you not notice how he changed colour, how agitated he became, when I was presented? It was because he knew that his exposure was at hand. I know him well—in fact, he is the illegitimate son of a deceased relative of mine, by a mulatto slave."
"It cannot be possible," exclaimed Miss Ellstowe, with a wild stare of astonishment. "Are you sure of it?"
"Sure of it! of course I am. I should indeed be a rash man to make such a terrible charge unless perfectly48 able to substantiate49 it. I have played with him frequently when a child, and my father made a very liberal provision for this young man and his sister, after the death of their father, who lost his life through imprudently living with this woman in Philadelphia, and consequently getting himself mixed up with these detestable Abolitionists."
"Can this be true?" asked Miss Ellstowe, incredulously.
"I assure you it is. We had quite lost sight of them for a few years back, and I little supposed we should meet under such circumstances. I fear I shall be the cause of great discomfort50, but I am sure in the end I shall be thanked. I could not, with any sense of honour or propriety51, permit such a thing as this marriage to be consummated52, without at least warning your friends of the real position of this fellow. I trust, Miss Ellstowe, you will inform them of what I have told you." "How can I? Oh, Mr. Stevens!" said she, in a tone of deep distress53, "this will be a terrible blow—it will almost kill Anne. No, no; the task must not devolve on me—I cannot tell them. Poor little thing! it will break her heart, I am afraid."
"Oh, but you must, Miss Ellstowe; it would seem very impertinent in me—a stranger—to meddle54 in such a matter; and, besides, they may be aware of it, and not thank me for my interference."
"No, I assure you they are not; I am confident they have not the most distant idea of such a thing—they would undoubtedly56 regard it as an act of kindness on your part. I shall insist upon your remaining until the return of Mr. Bates, when I shall beg you to repeat to him what you have already revealed to me."
"As you insist upon it, I suppose I must," repeated he, after some reflection; "but I must say I do not like the office of informer," concluded he, with assumed reluctance57.
"I am sorry to impose it upon you; yet, rest assured, they will thank you.
Excuse me for a few moments—I will go and see how Anne is."
Miss Ellstowe returned, after a short interval58, with the information that little Birdie was much more composed, and would, no doubt, soon recover from her fright.
"To receive a worse blow," observed George Stevens. "I pity the poor little thing—only to think of the disgrace of being engaged to a nigger. It is fortunate for them that they will make the discovery ere it be too late. Heavens! only think what the consequences might have been had she married this fellow, and his peculiar59 position became known to them afterwards! She would have been completely 'done for.'"
Thus conversing60 respecting Clarence, they awaited the return of Mr. Bates. After the lapse61 of a couple of hours he entered the drawing-room. Mr. Stevens was presented to him by Miss Ellstowe, as a particular friend of herself and family. "I believe you were here when I came in before; I regret I was obliged to leave so abruptly," courteously62 spoke63 Mr. Bates, whilst bowing to his new acquaintance; "the sudden and alarming illness of my young friend will, I trust, be a sufficient apology."
"How is he now?" asked Miss Ellstowe.
"Better—much better," answered he, cheerfully; "but very wild and distracted in his manner—alarmingly so, in fact. He clung to my hand, and wrung64 it when we parted, and bid me good bye again and again, as if it was for the last time. Poor fellow! he is frightened at that hemorrhage, and is afraid it will be fatal; but there is not any danger, he only requires to be kept quiet—he will soon come round again, no doubt. I shall have to ask you to excuse me again," said he, in conclusion; "I must go and see my daughter."
Mr. Bates was rising to depart, when George Stevens gave Miss Ellstowe a significant look, who said, in a hesitating tone, "Mr. Bates, one moment before you go. My friend, Mr. Stevens, has a communication to make to you respecting Mr. Garie, which will, I fear, cause you, as it already has me, deep distress."
"Indeed!" rejoined Mr. Bates, in a tone of surprise; "What is it? Nothing that reflects upon his character, I hope."
"I do not know how my information will influence your conduct towards him, for I do not know what your sentiments may be respecting such persons. I know society in general do not receive them, and my surprise was very great to find him here."
"I do not understand you; what do you mean?" demanded Mr. Bates, in a tone of perplexity; "has he ever committed any crime?"
"HE IS A COLOURED MAN," answered George Stevens, briefly65. Mr. Bates became almost purple, and gasped66 for breath; then, after staring at his informant for a few seconds incredulously, repeated the words "Coloured man," in a dreamy manner, as if in doubt whether he had really heard them.
"Yes, coloured man," said George Stevens, confidently; "it grieves me to be the medium of such disagreeable intelligence; and I assure you I only undertook the office upon the representation of Miss Ellstowe, that you were not aware of the fact, and would regard my communication as an act of kindness."
"It—it can't be," exclaimed Mr. Bates, with the air of a man determined67 not to be convinced of a disagreeable truth; "it cannot be possible."
Hereupon George Stevens related to him what he had recently told Miss Ellstowe respecting the parentage and position of Clarence. During the narration68, the old man became almost frantic69 with rage and sorrow, bursting forth70 once or twice with the most violent exclamations71; and when George Stevens concluded, he rose and said, in a husky voice—
"I'll kill him, the infernal hypocrite! Oh! the impostor to come to my house in this nefarious72 manner, and steal the affections of my daughter—the devilish villain! a bastard73! a contemptible74 black-hearted nigger. Oh, my child—my child! it will break your heart when you know what deep disgrace has come upon you. I'll go to him," added he, his face flushed, and his white hair almost erect75 with rage; "I'll murder him—there's not a man in the city will blame me for it," and he grasped his cane76 as though he would go at once, and inflict77 summary vengeance78 upon the offender79.
"Stop, sir, don't be rash," exclaimed George Stevens; "I would not screen this fellow from the effects of your just and very natural indignation—he is abundantly worthy80 of the severest punishment you can bestow81; but if you go in your present excited state, you might be tempted82 to do something which would make this whole affair public, and injure, thereby83, your daughter's future. You'll pardon me, I trust, and not think me presuming upon my short acquaintance in making the suggestion."
Mr. Bates looked about him bewilderedly for a short time, and then replied, "No, no, you need not apologize, you are right—I thank you; I myself should have known better. But my poor child! what will become of her?" and in an agony of sorrow he resumed his seat, and buried his face in his hands.
George Stevens prepared to take his departure, but Mr. Bates pressed him to remain. "In a little while," said he, "I shall be more composed, and then I wish you to go with me to this worthless scoundrel. I must see him at once, and warn him what the consequences will be should he dare approach my child again. Don't fear me," he added, as he saw George Stevens hesitated to remain; "that whirlwind of passion is over now. I promise you I shall do nothing unworthy of myself or my child."
It was not long before they departed together for the hotel at which Clarence was staying. When they entered his room, they found him in his bed, with the miniature of little Birdie in his hands. When he observed the dark scowl84 on the face of Mr. Bates, and saw by whom he was accompanied, he knew his secret was discovered; he saw it written on their faces. He trembled like a leaf, and his heart seemed like a lump of ice in his bosom85. Mr. Bates was about to speak, when Clarence held up his hand in the attitude of one endeavouring to ward31 off a blow, and whispered hoarsely—
"Don't tell me—not yet—a little longer! I see you know all. I see my sentence written on your face! Let me dream a little longer ere you speak the words that must for ever part me and little Birdie. I know you have come to separate us—but don't tell me yet; for when you do," said he, in an agonized86 tone, "it will kill me!"
"I wish to God it would!" rejoined Mr. Bates. "I wish you had died long ago; then you would have never come beneath my roof to destroy its peace for ever. You have acted basely, palming yourself upon us—counterfeit as you were! and taking in exchange her true love and my honest, honourable44 regard."
Clarence attempted to speak, but Mr. Bates glared at him, and continued—"There are laws to punish thieves and counterfeits—but such as you may go unchastised, except by the abhorrence87 of all honourable men. Had you been unaware88 of your origin, and had the revelation of this gentleman been as new to you as to me, you would have deserved sympathy; but you have been acting89 a lie, claiming a position in society to which you knew you had no right, and deserve execration90 and contempt. Did I treat you as my feelings dictated91, you would understand what is meant by the weight of a father's anger; but I do not wish the world to know that my daughter has been wasting her affections upon a worthless nigger; that is all that protects you! Now, hear me," he added, fiercely,—"if ever you presume to darken my door again, or attempt to approach my daughter, I will shoot you, as sure as you sit there before me!"
"And serve you perfectly right!" observed George Stevens.
"Silence, sir!" rejoined Clarence, sternly. "How dare you interfere55? He may say what he likes—reproach me as he pleases—he is her father—I have no other reply; but if you dare again to utter a word, I'll—" and Clarence paused and looked about him as if in search of something with which to enforce silence.
Feeble-looking as he was, there was an air of determination about him which commanded acquiescence92, and George Stevens did not venture upon another observation during the interview.
"I want my daughter's letters—every line she ever wrote to you; get them at once—I want them now," said Mr. Bates, imperatively93.
"I cannot give them to you immediately, they are not accessible at present.
Does she want them?" he asked, feebly—"has she desired to have them back?"
"To-morrow I will send them," said Clarence. "I will read them all over once again," thought he.
"I cannot believe you," said Mr. Bates.
"I promise you upon my honour I will send them tomorrow!"
"A nigger's honour!" rejoined Mr. Bates, with a contemptuous sneer95. "Yes, sir—a nigger's honour!" repeated Clarence, the colour mounting to his pale cheeks. "A few drops of negro blood in a man's reins96 do not entirely97 deprive him of noble sentiments. 'Tis true my past concealment98 does not argue in my favour.—I concealed99 that which was no fault of my own, but what the injustice100 of society has made a crime."
"I am not here for discussion; and I suppose I must trust to your honour," interrupted Mr. Bates, with a sneer. "But remember, if the letters are not forthcoming to-morrow I shall be here again, and then," concluded he in a threatening tone, "my visit will not be as harmless as this has been!"
After they had gone, Clarence rose and walked feebly to his desk, which, with great effort and risk, he removed to the bed-side; then taking from it little Birdie's letters, he began their perusal101.
Ay! read them again—and yet again; pore over their contents—dwell on those passages replete102 with tenderness, until every word is stamped upon thy breaking heart—linger by them as the weary traveller amid Sahara's sand pauses by some sparkling fountain in a shady oasis103, tasting of its pure waters ere he launches forth again upon the arid104 waste beyond. This is the last green spot upon thy way to death; beyond whose grim portals, let us believe, thou and thy "little Birdie" may meet again.
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1
bustle
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| v.喧扰地忙乱，匆忙，奔忙；n.忙碌；喧闹 | |
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consultations
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| n.磋商（会议）( consultation的名词复数 )；商讨会；协商会；查找 | |
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maiden
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| n.少女，处女；adj.未婚的，纯洁的，无经验的 | |
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remains
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| n.剩余物，残留物；遗体，遗迹 | |
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annoyance
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| n.恼怒，生气，烦恼 | |
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tiresome
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| adj.令人疲劳的，令人厌倦的 | |
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dreary
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| adj.令人沮丧的，沉闷的，单调乏味的 | |
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chirp
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| v.(尤指鸟)唧唧喳喳的叫 | |
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tinge
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| vt.(较淡)着色于，染色；使带有…气息；n.淡淡色彩，些微的气息 | |
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vampire
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| n.吸血鬼 | |
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chirping
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| 鸟叫，虫鸣( chirp的现在分词 ) | |
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innocence
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| n.无罪；天真；无害 | |
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destined
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| adj.命中注定的；(for)以…为目的地的 | |
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wither
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| vt.使凋谢，使衰退，(用眼神气势等)使畏缩；vi.枯萎，衰退，消亡 | |
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scampering
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| v.蹦蹦跳跳地跑，惊惶奔跑( scamper的现在分词 ) | |
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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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bent
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| n.爱好，癖好；adj.弯的；决心的，一心的 | |
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prostrate
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| v.拜倒，平卧，衰竭；adj.拜倒的，平卧的，衰竭的 | |
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engrossed
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| adj.全神贯注的 | |
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suffused
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| v.（指颜色、水气等）弥漫于，布满( suffuse的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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incapable
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| adj.无能力的，不能做某事的 | |
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mutual
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| adj.相互的，彼此的；共同的，共有的 | |
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agitated
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| adj.被鼓动的，不安的 | |
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hue
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| n.色度；色调；样子 | |
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tumult
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| n.喧哗；激动，混乱；吵闹 | |
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brink
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| n.(悬崖、河流等的)边缘，边沿 | |
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consummating
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| v.使结束( consummate的现在分词 )；使完美；完婚；（婚礼后的）圆房 | |
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dagger
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| n.匕首，短剑，剑号 | |
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malignant
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| adj.恶性的，致命的；恶意的，恶毒的 | |
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avert
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| v.防止，避免；转移(目光、注意力等) | |
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ward
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| n.守卫，监护，病房，行政区，由监护人或法院保护的人（尤指儿童）；vt.守护，躲开 | |
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bloody
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| adj.非常的的；流血的；残忍的；adv.很；vt.血染 | |
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foam
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| v./n.泡沫，起泡沫 | |
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imploring
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| 恳求的，哀求的 | |
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countenance
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| n.脸色，面容；面部表情；vt.支持，赞同 | |
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seaman
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| n.海员，水手，水兵 | |
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ruptured
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| v.（使）破裂( rupture的过去式和过去分词 )；（使体内组织等）断裂；使（友好关系）破裂；使绝交 | |
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minor
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| adj.较小(少)的，较次要的；n.辅修学科；vi.辅修 | |
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retired
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| adj.隐退的，退休的，退役的 | |
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apparently
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| adv.显然地；表面上，似乎 | |
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astonishment
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| n.惊奇，惊异 | |
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orphan
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| n.孤儿；adj.无父母的 | |
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agitation
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| n.搅动；搅拌；鼓动，煽动 | |
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honourable
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| adj.可敬的；荣誉的，光荣的 | |
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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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imposing
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| adj.使人难忘的，壮丽的，堂皇的，雄伟的 | |
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promptly
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| adv.及时地，敏捷地 | |
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perfectly
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| adv.完美地，无可非议地，彻底地 | |
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substantiate
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| v.证实；证明...有根据 | |
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discomfort
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| n.不舒服，不安，难过，困难，不方便 | |
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propriety
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| n.正当行为；正当；适当 | |
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consummated
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| v.使结束( consummate的过去式和过去分词 )；使完美；完婚；（婚礼后的）圆房 | |
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53
distress
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| n.苦恼，痛苦，不舒适；不幸；vt.使悲痛 | |
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54
meddle
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| v.干预，干涉，插手 | |
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interfere
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| v.(in)干涉，干预；(with)妨碍，打扰 | |
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undoubtedly
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| adv.确实地，无疑地 | |
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reluctance
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| n.厌恶，讨厌，勉强，不情愿 | |
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interval
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| n.间隔，间距；幕间休息，中场休息 | |
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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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conversing
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| v.交谈，谈话( converse的现在分词 ) | |
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lapse
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| n.过失，流逝，失效，抛弃信仰，间隔；vi.堕落，停止，失效，流逝；vt.使失效 | |
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courteously
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| adv.有礼貌地，亲切地 | |
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spoke
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| n.（车轮的）辐条；轮辐；破坏某人的计划；阻挠某人的行动 v.讲，谈（speak的过去式）；说；演说；从某种观点来说 | |
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wrung
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| 绞( wring的过去式和过去分词 )； 握紧（尤指别人的手）； 把（湿衣服）拧干； 绞掉（水） | |
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briefly
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| adv.简单地，简短地 | |
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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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determined
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| adj.坚定的；有决心的 | |
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narration
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| n.讲述，叙述；故事；记叙体 | |
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frantic
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| adj.狂乱的，错乱的，激昂的 | |
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forth
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| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
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exclamations
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| n.呼喊( exclamation的名词复数 )；感叹；感叹语；感叹词 | |
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nefarious
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| adj.恶毒的，极坏的 | |
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bastard
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| n.坏蛋，混蛋；私生子 | |
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contemptible
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| adj.可鄙的，可轻视的，卑劣的 | |
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erect
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| n./v.树立，建立，使竖立；adj.直立的，垂直的 | |
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cane
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| n.手杖，细长的茎，藤条；v.以杖击，以藤编制的 | |
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inflict
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| vt.(on)把…强加给，使遭受，使承担 | |
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vengeance
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| n.报复，报仇，复仇 | |
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offender
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| n.冒犯者，违反者，犯罪者 | |
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worthy
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| adj.(of)值得的，配得上的；有价值的 | |
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bestow
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| v.把…赠与，把…授予；花费 | |
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tempted
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| v.怂恿（某人）干不正当的事；冒…的险（tempt的过去分词） | |
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thereby
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| adv.因此，从而 | |
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84
scowl
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| vi.(at)生气地皱眉，沉下脸，怒视；n.怒容 | |
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bosom
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| n.胸，胸部；胸怀；内心；adj.亲密的 | |
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agonized
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| v.使（极度）痛苦，折磨( agonize的过去式和过去分词 )；苦斗；苦苦思索；感到极度痛苦 | |
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abhorrence
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| n.憎恶；可憎恶的事 | |
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88
unaware
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| a.不知道的，未意识到的 | |
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acting
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| n.演戏，行为，假装；adj.代理的，临时的，演出用的 | |
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execration
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| n.诅咒，念咒，憎恶 | |
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dictated
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| v.大声讲或读( dictate的过去式和过去分词 )；口授；支配；摆布 | |
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92
acquiescence
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| n.默许；顺从 | |
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imperatively
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| adv.命令式地 | |
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94
evasions
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| 逃避( evasion的名词复数 )； 回避； 遁辞； 借口 | |
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95
sneer
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| v.轻蔑；嘲笑；n.嘲笑，讥讽的言语 | |
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reins
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| 感情，激情； 缰( rein的名词复数 )； 控制手段； 掌管； （成人带着幼儿走路以防其走失时用的）保护带 | |
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entirely
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| ad.全部地，完整地；完全地，彻底地 | |
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98
concealment
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| n.隐藏, 掩盖，隐瞒 | |
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99
concealed
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| a.隐藏的，隐蔽的 | |
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100
injustice
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| n.非正义，不公正，不公平，侵犯（别人的）权利 | |
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101
perusal
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| n.细读，熟读；目测 | |
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102
replete
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| adj.饱满的，塞满的；n.贮蜜蚁 | |
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103
oasis
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| n.（沙漠中的）绿洲，宜人的地方 | |
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104
arid
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| adj.干旱的；(土地)贫瘠的 | |
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