“Mouse,” said her husband to Lady Kenilworth, one morning at Homburg, “do you see that large pale woman over there, with a face like a crumpled1 whitey-brown paper bag?”
Lady Kenilworth looked.
“Yes,” she said, impatiently. “Yes. Well?—what?—why?”
“Well, she rolls—she absolutely rolls—wallows—biggest pile ever made out West.”
His wife looked again with a little more attention at the large figure of a lady, superbly clothed, who sat alone under a tree, and had that desolate3 air of “not being in it” which betrays the unelect.
“Nobody discovered her? Nobody taken her up?” she asked, still looking through her eye-glass.
“Well, old Khris a little; but Khris can’t get anybody on now. He does ’em more harm than good. He’s dead broke.”
His wife smiled.
“They must be new, indeed, if they don’t know that. Would they be rich enough to buy Vale Royal of Gerald?”
“Lord, yes; rich enough to buy a hundred Gerrys and Vales Royal. I know it for a fact from men in the City: they are astonishing—biggest income in the United States, after Vanderbilt and Pullman.”
“American, then?”
“No; made their ‘stiff’ there, and come home to spend it.”
“Name?”
[6]“Massarene. Cotton to her if you can. There’s money to be made.”
“Hush! somebody will hear.”
“Does anybody know these dear souls and their kind for any other reason than the flimsy? She’s looking your way. You’ll have to introduce yourself, for she don’t know anybody here. Make Boo fall down and break her nose in front of her.”
Boo was a four-year-old angel with lovely black eyes and bright yellow hair, the second child of the Kenilworth family. Accompanied by one of her nurses, she was playing near them, with a big rosy5 bladder tied to a string.
“I don’t think the matter so difficult that Boo’s nose need be sacrificed. At what hotel is this person staying?”
“At ours.”
“Oh! Then the thing’s very easy.”
She nodded and dismissed him. She was on fairly good terms with her husband, and would make common cause with him when it suited her; but she could not stand much of his society. She took another prolonged stare through her eye-glass at the large pale woman, so splendidly attired6, sitting in solitude7 under the tree, then rose and walked away in her graceful8 and nonchalant fashion, with her knot of young men around her. She was followed by the dreary9 envious10 gaze of the lonely lady whose countenance11 had been likened to a large whitey-brown paper bag.
“If one could but get to know her all the rest would come easy,” thought that solitary12 and unhappy outsider, looking longingly13 after that pliant14 and perfect figure with its incomparable air of youth, of sovereignty, and of indifference15. What was the use of having an income second only to Vanderbilt’s and Pullman’s?
There are things which cannot be purchased. Manner is chief amongst them.
Margaret Massarene was very lonely indeed, as she sat under the big tree watching the gay, many-colored, animated16 crowd amongst which there was not a creature with[7] whom she had even a bowing acquaintance. Her lord and master, of whom she stood in much awe17, was away on business in Frankfort; her daughter, her only living child, was in India; she was here because it was the proper place for an aspirant18 to society to be in at that season; but of all this multitude of royal people, titled people, pretty people, idle people, who thronged19 the alleys20 and crowded the hotels, she did not know a single creature. She envied her own maid who had many acquaintances with other maids and couriers and smart German sergeants21 and corporals of cavalry22.
On the previous day she had made also a fatal mistake. As she had crossed the hall of her own hotel, she had seen a fair small woman, insignificantly23 dressed, in a deer-stalker’s hat and a gray ulster, who was arguing with the cashier about an item in her bill which she refused to pay: so many kreutzer for ice; ice was always given gratis24, she averred25; and she occupied the whole window of the cashier’s bureau as she spoke26, having laid down an umbrella, a packet of newspapers, and a mackintosh on the shelf. Indignant at being made to wait by such a shabby little person, Mrs. Massarene pushed her aside. “Folks as has to count pence shouldn’t come to grand hotels,” she muttered, with more reason than politeness, elbowing away the shabby fair woman.
The shabby fair woman turned round and stared, then laughed: the cashier and the clerk were confounded, and lost their presence of mind. To the shabby fair woman a man in plain clothes, obviously her servant, approached, and bowing low said, “If you please, madam, his Imperial Majesty27 is at the door.” And the lady who quarreled with a clerk for half a kreutzer went out of the hall, and mounted besides a gentleman who was driving himself; one of those gentlemen to whom all the world doff28 their hats, yet who, by a singular contradiction, are always guarded by policemen.
The Massarene courier, who was always hovering29 near his mistress in the vain effort to preserve her from wrongdoing, took her aside.
“It’s Mrs. Cecil Courcy, madam,” he murmured. “There’s nobody so chic30 as Mrs. Cecil Courcy. She’s[8] hand and glove with all them royalties31. Pinching and screwing—oh yes, that she do—but then you see, madam, she can do it.”
Gregson winced33 at the word “master,” but he answered sincerely, “No, madam; I won’t tell Mr. Massarene. But if you think that because they’re high they’re large, you’re very much mistaken. Lord, ma’am, they’ll pocket the marrons glacés at the table d’hôte and take the matches away from their bedrooms, but then, you see, ma’am, them as are swagger can do them things. Mrs. Cecil Courcy might steal the spoons if she’d a mind to do it!”
Mrs. Massarene gasped34. A great name covering a multitude of small thefts appalled35 her simple mind.
“You can’t mean it, Gregson?” she said with breathless amaze.
“Indeed, madam, I do,” said the courier, “and that’s why, madam, I won’t ever go into service with gentlefolks. They’ve got such a lot to keep up, and so precious little to do it with, that they’re obliged to pinch and to screw and get three sixpences out of a shilling, as I tell you, madam.”
Mrs. Massarene was sad and silent. It was painful to hear one’s own courier say that he would never take service with “gentlefolk.” One never likes to see oneself as others see us.
The poignant36 horror of that moment as she had seen the imperial wheels flash and rotate through the flying dust was still fresh in her mind, and should have prevented her from ever trusting to her own judgment37 or forming that judgment from mere38 appearances. She could still hear the echo of the mocking voice of that prince whom Kenilworth had described as “dead broke” saying to her, as he had said more than once in England: “Not often do you make a mistake; ah no, not often, my very dear madam, not often; but when you do make one—eh bien, vous la faites belle39!”
Mrs. Massarene sighed heavily as she sat alone under her tree, her large hands folded on her lap; the lessons of society seemed to her of an overwhelming difficulty and[9] intricacy. How could she possibly have guessed that the great Mrs. Cecil Courcy, who gave tea and bread-and-butter to kings and sang duets with their consorts40, was a little shabby, pale-faced being in a deer-stalker’s hat and a worn gray ulster who had disputed in propriâ personâ at the cashier’s office the charge of half a kreutzer on her bill for some iced water?
As she was thinking these melancholy41 thoughts and meditating42 on the isolation43 of her greatness, a big rose-colored bladder struck her a sharp blow on the cheek; and at her involuntary cry of pain and surprise a little child’s voice said pleadingly, “Oh! begs ’oo pardon—vewy muss!”
The rosebud44 face of Lady Kenilworth’s little daughter was at her knee, and its prettiness and penitence touched to the quick her warm maternal45 heart.
“My little dear, ’tis nothing at all,” she said, stooping to kiss the child under its white lace coalscuttle bonnet46. Boo submitted to the caress47, though she longed to rub the place kissed by the stranger.
“It didn’t hurt ’oo, did it?” she asked solicitously48, and then she added in a whisper, “Has ’oo dot any sweeties?”
For she saw that the lady was kind, and thought her pretty, and in her four-year-old mind decided49 to utilize50 the situation. As it chanced, Mrs. Massarene, being fond of “sweeties” herself, had some caramels in a gold bonbon-box, and she pressed them, box and all, into the little hands in their tiny tan gloves.
Boo’s beautiful sleepy black eyes grew wide-awake with pleasure.
“Dat’s a real dold box,” she said, with the fine instincts proper to one who will have her womanhood in the twentieth century. And slipping it in her little bosom51 she ran off with it to regain52 her nurse.
Her mother was walking past at the moment with the King of Greece on one side of her, and the Duc d’Orléans on the other; wise little Boo kept aloof53 with her prize. But she knew not, or forgot, that her mother’s eyes were as the optic organs of the fly which can see all round at once, and possess twelve thousand facets54.
[10]Ten minutes later, when the king had gone to drink his glasses of water and Prince Gamelle had gone to breakfast, Lady Kenilworth, leading her sulky and unwilling55 Boo by the hand, approached the tree where the lone2 lady sat. “You have been too kind to my naughty little girl,” she said with her sweetest smile. “She must not keep this bonbonnière; the contents are more than enough for a careless little trot56 who knocks people about with her balloon.”
Mrs. Massarene, agitated57 almost out of speech and sense at the sight of this radiant apparition58 which spoke with such condescension59 to her, stammered60 thanks, excuses, protestations in an unintelligible61 hotchpot of confused phrases; and let the gold box fall neglected to the ground.
“The dear pretty baby,” she said entreatingly62. “Oh, pray, ma’am, oh, pray, my lady, do let her have it, such a trifle as it is!”
“No, indeed I cannot,” said Lady Kenilworth firmly, but still with her most winning smile, and she added with that graceful abruptness63 natural to her, “Do tell me, I am not quite sure, but wasn’t it you who snubbed Phyllis Courcy so delightfully64 at the hotel bureau yesterday morning?”
“Oh, my lady,” she said faintly, “I shall never get over it, such a mistake as I made! When Mr. Massarene comes to hear of it he’ll be ready to kill me——”
“It was quite delightful,” said Lady Kenilworth with decision. “Nobody ever dares pull her up for her cheese-paring ways. We were all enchanted66. She is a detestable cat, and if she hadn’t that mezzo-soprano voice she wouldn’t be petted and cossetted at Balmoral and Berlin and Bernsdorff as she is. She is my aunt by marriage, but I hate her.”
“Dear me, my lady,” murmured Mrs. Massarene, doubtful if her ears could hear aright. “I was ready to sink into my shoes,” she added, “when I saw her drive away with the Emperor.”
Lady Kenilworth laughed, a genuine laugh which meant a great number of things, unexplained to her auditor67. Then she nodded; a little pleasant familiar nod of farewell.
[11]“We shall meet again. We are at the same hotel. Thanks so much for your kindness to my naughty pet.”
And with the enchanting68 smile she used when she wanted to turn people’s heads she nodded again, and went on her way, dragging the reluctant Boo away from the tree and the golden box.
When she consigned69 her little daughter to the nurse, Boo’s big black eyes looked up at her in eloquent70 reproach. The big black eyes said what the baby lips did not dare to say: “I did what you told me; I hit the lady very cleverly as if it was accident, and then you wouldn’t let me have the pretty box, and you called me naughty!”
Later, in the nursery, Boo poured out her sorrows to her brother Jack71, who exactly resembled herself with his yellow hair, his big dark eyes, and his rosebud of a mouth.
“She telled me to hit the old ’ooman, and then she said I was naughty ’cos I did it, and she tooked away my dold box!”
“Never mind, Boo. Mammy always lets one in for it. What’d you tell her of the box for? Don’t never tell mammy nothin’,” said Jack in the superior wisdom of the masculine sex and ten months greater age.
“I didn’t tell her. She seed it through my frock.”
Jack kissed her.
“Let’s find old woman, Boo, if we can get out all by ’selves, and we’ll ask her for the box.”
Boo’s face cleared.
“And we’ll tell her mammy telled me to hit her!”
“N-n-no. We won’t do that, Boo. Mammy’s a bad ’un to split on.”
Jack had once overheard this said on the staircase by Lord Kenilworth, and his own experiences had convinced him of the truth of it. “Mammy can be cruel nasty,” he added, with great solemnity of aspect and many painful personal recollections.
Mrs. Massarene had remained under the tree digesting the water she had drunk, and the memory of the blunder she had made with regard to Mrs. Courcy. She ought to[12] have known that there is nothing more perilous74 than to judge by appearances, for this is a fact to be learned in kitchens as well as palaces. But she had not known it, and by not knowing it had offended a person who went en intime to Balmoral, and Berlin, and Bernsdorff!
Half an hour later, when she slowly and sorrowfully walked back through the gardens of her hotel, to go in to luncheon75, two bright cherubic apparitions76 came toward her over the grass.
Walking demurely77 hand-in-hand, looking the pictures of innocent infancy78, Jack and Boo, having had their twelve o’clock dinner, dedicated79 their united genius to the finding and besieging80 of the old fat woman.
“How’s ’oo do?” said Boo very affably, whilst her brother, leaving her the initiative, pulled his sky-blue Tam o’ Shanter cap off his golden curls with his best possible manner.
Their victim was enchanted by their overtures81, and forgot that she was hungry, as these radiant little Gainsborough figures blocked her path. They were welcome to her as children, but as living portions of the peerage they were divinities.
“What’s your name, my pretty dears?” she said, much flattered and embarrassed. “You’re Lord Kersterholme, aren’t you, sir?”
“I’m Kers’ham, ’ess. But I’m Jack,” said the boy with the big black eyes and the yellow locks, cut short over his forehead and falling long on his shoulders.
“And your dear little sister, she’s Lady Beatrix Orme?” said Mrs. Massarene, who had read their names and dates of birth a score of times in her ‘Burke.’
“She’s Boo,” said Jack.
Boo herself stood with her little nose and chin in the air, and her mouth pursed contemptuously. She was ready to discharge herself of scathing82 ironies83 on the personal appearance of the questioner, but she resisted the impulse because to indulge it might endanger the restoration of the gold box.
“I am sure you are very fond of your pretty mamma, my dears?” said Mrs. Massarene, wondering why they thus honored her by standing84 in her path.
[13]Boo shut up her rosy mouth and her big eyes till they were three straight lines of cruel scorn, and was silent.
Jack hesitated.
“Who is Harry?” asked Mr. Massarene, surprised.
The children were puzzled. Who was Harry?
They were used to seeing him perpetually, to playing with him, to teasing him, to getting everything they wanted out of him; but, as to who he was, of that they had never thought.
“He’s in the Guards,” said Jack at last. “The Guards that have the white tails on their heads, you know, and ride down Portland Place of a morning.”
“He belongs to mammy,” said Boo, by way of additional identification; she was a lovely little fresh dewdrop of childhood only just four years old, but she had a sparkle of malice87 and meaning in her tone and her eyes, of which her brother was innocent.
“Oh, indeed,” murmured Mrs. Massarene, more and more embarrassed; for ought she knew, it might be the habit for ladies in the great world to have an officer of the Guards attached to their service.
Jack looked critically at the strange lady. “Don’t ’oo know people?” he asked; this poor old fat woman seemed to him very forlorn and friendless.
“Is ’oo a cook or a nurse?” said Jack, with his head on one side, surveying her with puzzled compassion89.
Jack burst out laughing. “Oh, no, ’oo isn’t,” he said decidedly. “Ladies don’t say they’s ladies.”
Mrs. Massarene had never more cruelly felt how utterly92 she was “nobody” at her first Drawing-room, than she felt it now under the merciless eyes of these chicks.
Boo pulled Jack’s sleeve. “She won’t give us nothin’ else if ’oo tease her,” she whispered in his rosy ear.
[14]Jack shook her off. “P’r’aps we’re rude,” he said remorsefully93 to his victim. “We’s sorry if we’ve vexed94 ’oo.”
“And does ’oo want the little box mammy gived back to ’oo?” said Boo desperately95, perceiving that her brother would never attack this main question.
Over the plain broad flat face of the poor plebian there passed a gleam of intelligence, and a shadow of disappointment. It was only for sake of the golden box that these little angels had smilingly blocked her road!
She brought out the bonbonnière at once from her pocket. “Pray take it and keep it, my little lady,” she said to Boo, who required no second bidding; and after a moment’s hesitation96 Mrs. Massarene took out of her purse a new Napoleon. “Would you please, my lord,” she murmured, pushing the bright coin into Jack’s fingers.
Jack colored. He was tempted97 to take the money; he had spent his last money two days before, and the Napoleon would buy a little cannon98 for which his heart pined; a real cannon which would load with real little shells. But something indefinite in his mind shrank from taking a stranger’s money. He put his hands behind his back. “Thanks, very much,” he said resolutely99, “but please, no; I’d rather not.”
She pressed it on him warmly, but he was obstinate100. “No, thanks,” he said twice. “’Oo’s very kind,” he added courteously101. “But I don’t know ’oo, and I’d rather not.” And he adhered to his refusal. He could not have put his sentiment into words, but he had a temper which his sister had not.
“’Oo’s very kind,” repeated Boo sarcastically103, with a little grin and a mocking curtsey, “and Jack’s a great big goose. Ta-ta!”
She pulled her brother away, being afraid of the arrival of governess, nurse, or somebody who might yet again snatch the gold box away from her.
“Why didn’t ’oo take the money, Jack?” she said, as they ran hand-in-hand down the path.
“I don’t know,” said Jack truthfully. “Somethin’ inside me told me not.”
[15]Their forsaken104 admirer looked after them wistfully. “Fine feathers don’t make a fine bird o’ me,” she thought sorrowfully. “Even those babies see I ain’t a lady. I always told William as how it wouldn’t be no use. I dare say in time they’ll come to us for sake of what they’ll get, but they won’t never think us aught except the rinsins of the biler.”
Lord Kenilworth had been looking idly out of a window of the hotel across the evergreens105 after his breakfast of brandy and seltzer and had seen the little scene in the garden and chuckled as he saw.
“Shrewd little beggars, gettin’ things out of the fat old woman,” he thought with approval. “How like they look to their mother; and what a blessing106 it is there’s never any doubts as to the maternity107 of anybody!”
He, although not a student of ‘Burke’ like Mrs. Massarene, had opened that majestic108 volume once on a rainy day in the library of a country house, and had looked at his own family record in it, and had seen, underneath109 his own title and his father’s, the names of four little children:—
Sons:
(1) John Cecil Victor, Lord Kersterholme.
(2) Gerald George.
(3) Francis Lionel Desmond Edward.
Daughter:
Beatrix Cicely.
“Dear little duckies!” he had murmured, biting a cigarette. “Sweet little babes! Precious little poppets! Damn ’em the whole blooming lot!”
But he had been quite alone when he had said this: for a man who drank so much as he did he was always remarkably110 discreet111. What he drank did not make him garrulous112; it made him suspicious and mute. No one had ever known him allow a word to escape his lips which he would, being sober, have regretted to have said. How many abstemious113 persons amongst us can boast as much?
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1
crumpled
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| adj. 弯扭的, 变皱的 动词crumple的过去式和过去分词形式 | |
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lone
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| adj.孤寂的，单独的；唯一的 | |
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desolate
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| adj.荒凉的，荒芜的；孤独的，凄凉的；v.使荒芜，使孤寂 | |
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chuckled
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| 轻声地笑( chuckle的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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rosy
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| adj.美好的，乐观的，玫瑰色的 | |
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attired
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| adj.穿着整齐的v.使穿上衣服，使穿上盛装( attire的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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solitude
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| n. 孤独; 独居,荒僻之地,幽静的地方 | |
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graceful
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| adj.优美的，优雅的；得体的 | |
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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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envious
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| adj.嫉妒的，羡慕的 | |
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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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solitary
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| adj.孤独的，独立的，荒凉的；n.隐士 | |
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longingly
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| adv. 渴望地 热望地 | |
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pliant
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| adj.顺从的；可弯曲的 | |
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indifference
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| n.不感兴趣，不关心，冷淡，不在乎 | |
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animated
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| adj.生气勃勃的，活跃的，愉快的 | |
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awe
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| n.敬畏，惊惧；vt.使敬畏，使惊惧 | |
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aspirant
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| n.热望者；adj.渴望的 | |
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thronged
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| v.成群，挤满( throng的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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alleys
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| 胡同，小巷( alley的名词复数 )； 小径 | |
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sergeants
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| 警官( sergeant的名词复数 )； （美国警察）警佐； （英国警察）巡佐； 陆军（或空军）中士 | |
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cavalry
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| n.骑兵；轻装甲部队 | |
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insignificantly
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gratis
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| adj.免费的 | |
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averred
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| v.断言( aver的过去式和过去分词 )；证实；证明…属实；作为事实提出 | |
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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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majesty
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| n.雄伟，壮丽，庄严，威严；最高权威，王权 | |
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doff
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| v.脱，丢弃，废除 | |
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hovering
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| 鸟( hover的现在分词 )； 靠近（某事物）； （人）徘徊； 犹豫 | |
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chic
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| n./adj.别致(的)，时髦(的)，讲究的 | |
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royalties
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| 特许权使用费 | |
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penitence
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| n.忏悔，赎罪；悔过 | |
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winced
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| 赶紧避开，畏缩( wince的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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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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appalled
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| v.使惊骇，使充满恐惧( appall的过去式和过去分词)adj.惊骇的；丧胆的 | |
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poignant
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| adj.令人痛苦的，辛酸的，惨痛的 | |
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judgment
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| n.审判；判断力，识别力，看法，意见 | |
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mere
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| adj.纯粹的；仅仅，只不过 | |
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belle
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| n.靓女 | |
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consorts
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| n.配偶( consort的名词复数 )；（演奏古典音乐的）一组乐师；一组古典乐器；一起v.结伴( consort的第三人称单数 )；交往；相称；调和 | |
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melancholy
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| n.忧郁，愁思；adj.令人感伤（沮丧）的，忧郁的 | |
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meditating
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| a.沉思的，冥想的 | |
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43
isolation
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| n.隔离，孤立，分解，分离 | |
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44
rosebud
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| n.蔷薇花蕾，妙龄少女 | |
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45
maternal
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| adj.母亲的，母亲般的，母系的，母方的 | |
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46
bonnet
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| n.无边女帽；童帽 | |
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47
caress
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| vt./n.爱抚，抚摸 | |
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solicitously
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| adv.热心地，热切地 | |
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49
decided
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| adj.决定了的，坚决的；明显的，明确的 | |
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50
utilize
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| vt.使用，利用 | |
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51
bosom
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| n.胸，胸部；胸怀；内心；adj.亲密的 | |
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52
regain
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| vt.重新获得，收复，恢复 | |
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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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54
facets
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| n.（宝石或首饰的）小平面( facet的名词复数 )；（事物的）面；方面 | |
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unwilling
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| adj.不情愿的 | |
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trot
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| n.疾走，慢跑；n.老太婆；现成译本；(复数）trots:腹泻（与the 连用）；v.小跑，快步走，赶紧 | |
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agitated
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| adj.被鼓动的，不安的 | |
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58
apparition
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| n.幽灵，神奇的现象 | |
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59
condescension
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| n.自以为高人一等，贬低(别人) | |
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60
stammered
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| v.结巴地说出( stammer的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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61
unintelligible
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| adj.无法了解的，难解的，莫明其妙的 | |
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entreatingly
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| 哀求地，乞求地 | |
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63
abruptness
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| n. 突然，唐突 | |
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delightfully
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| 大喜，欣然 | |
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pallid
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| adj.苍白的，呆板的 | |
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enchanted
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| adj. 被施魔法的，陶醉的，入迷的 动词enchant的过去式和过去分词 | |
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auditor
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| n.审计员，旁听着 | |
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enchanting
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| a.讨人喜欢的 | |
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consigned
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| v.把…置于（令人不快的境地）( consign的过去式和过去分词 )；把…托付给；把…托人代售；丟弃 | |
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eloquent
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| adj.雄辩的，口才流利的；明白显示出的 | |
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jack
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| n.插座，千斤顶，男人；v.抬起，提醒，扛举；n.（Jake）杰克 | |
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72
sobbed
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| 哭泣，啜泣( sob的过去式和过去分词 )； 哭诉，呜咽地说 | |
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cherub
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| n.小天使，胖娃娃 | |
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perilous
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| adj.危险的，冒险的 | |
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luncheon
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| n.午宴，午餐，便宴 | |
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apparitions
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| n.特异景象( apparition的名词复数 )；幽灵；鬼；（特异景象等的）出现 | |
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demurely
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| adv.装成端庄地，认真地 | |
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infancy
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| n.婴儿期；幼年期；初期 | |
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dedicated
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| adj.一心一意的；献身的；热诚的 | |
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besieging
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| 包围，围困，围攻( besiege的现在分词 ) | |
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overtures
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| n.主动的表示，提议；（向某人做出的）友好表示、姿态或提议( overture的名词复数 )；（歌剧、芭蕾舞、音乐剧等的）序曲，前奏曲 | |
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scathing
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| adj.（言词、文章）严厉的，尖刻的；不留情的adv.严厉地，尖刻地v.伤害，损害（尤指使之枯萎）( scathe的现在分词) | |
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ironies
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| n.反语( irony的名词复数 )；冷嘲；具有讽刺意味的事；嘲弄 | |
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84
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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harry
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| vt.掠夺，蹂躏，使苦恼 | |
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allusion
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| n.暗示，间接提示 | |
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87
malice
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| n.恶意，怨恨，蓄意；[律]预谋 | |
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88
humbly
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| adv. 恭顺地，谦卑地 | |
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compassion
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| n.同情，怜悯 | |
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90
horrified
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| a.(表现出)恐惧的 | |
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91
twitched
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| vt.& vi.（使）抽动，（使）颤动（twitch的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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utterly
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| adv.完全地，绝对地 | |
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93
remorsefully
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| adv.极为懊悔地 | |
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94
vexed
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| adj.争论不休的；（指问题等）棘手的；争论不休的问题；烦恼的v.使烦恼( vex的过去式和过去分词 )；使苦恼；使生气；详细讨论 | |
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95
desperately
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| adv.极度渴望地，绝望地，孤注一掷地 | |
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hesitation
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| n.犹豫，踌躇 | |
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97
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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98
cannon
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| n.大炮，火炮；飞机上的机关炮 | |
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99
resolutely
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| adj.坚决地，果断地 | |
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100
obstinate
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| adj.顽固的，倔强的，不易屈服的，较难治愈的 | |
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101
courteously
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| adv.有礼貌地，亲切地 | |
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102
soften
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| v.(使)变柔软；(使)变柔和 | |
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103
sarcastically
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| adv.挖苦地，讽刺地 | |
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104
Forsaken
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| adj. 被遗忘的, 被抛弃的 动词forsake的过去分词 | |
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105
evergreens
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| n.常青树，常绿植物，万年青( evergreen的名词复数 ) | |
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106
blessing
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| n.祈神赐福；祷告；祝福，祝愿 | |
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107
maternity
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| n.母性，母道，妇产科病房；adj.孕妇的，母性的 | |
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108
majestic
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| adj.雄伟的，壮丽的，庄严的，威严的，崇高的 | |
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109
underneath
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| adj.在...下面，在...底下；adv.在下面 | |
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110
remarkably
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| ad.不同寻常地，相当地 | |
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111
discreet
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| adj.(言行)谨慎的；慎重的；有判断力的 | |
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112
garrulous
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| adj.唠叨的，多话的 | |
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113
abstemious
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| adj.有节制的，节俭的 | |
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