She had looked down at them, enviously1, from the balcony--she had looked up at them, reverentially, from the stalls; but now at last she was on a line with them, among them, she was part of the sacred semicircle whose privilege it is, between the acts, to make the mere2 public forget that the curtain has fallen.
As she swept to the left-hand seat of their crimson3 niche4, waving Mabel Lipscomb to the opposite corner with a gesture learned during her apprenticeship5 in the stalls, Undine felt that quickening of the faculties6 that comes in the high moments of life. Her consciousness seemed to take in at once the whole bright curve of the auditorium7, from the unbroken lines of spectators below her to the culminating blaze of the central chandelier; and she herself was the core of that vast illumination, the sentient8 throbbing9 surface which gathered all the shafts10 of light into a centre.
It was almost a relief when, a moment later, the lights sank, the curtain rose, and the focus of illumination was shifted. The music, the scenery, and the movement on the stage, were like a rich mist tempering the radiance that shot on her from every side, and giving her time to subside11, draw breath, adjust herself to this new clear medium which made her feel so oddly brittle12 and transparent13.
When the curtain fell on the first act she began to be aware of a subtle change in the house. In all the boxes cross-currents of movement had set in: groups were coalescing14 and breaking up, fans waving and heads twinkling, black coats emerging among white shoulders, late comers dropping their furs and laces in the red penumbra15 of the background. Undine, for the moment unconscious of herself, swept the house with her opera-glass, searching for familiar faces. Some she knew without being able to name them--fixed16 figure-heads of the social prow--others she recognized from their portraits in the papers; but of the few from whom she could herself claim recognition not one was visible, and as she pursued her investigations17 the whole scene grew blank and featureless.
Almost all the boxes were full now, but one, just opposite, tantalized18 her by its continued emptiness. How queer to have an opera-box and not use it! What on earth could the people be doing--what rarer delight could they be tasting? Undine remembered that the numbers of the boxes and the names of their owners were given on the back of the programme, and after a rapid computation she turned to consult the list. Mondays and Fridays, Mrs. Peter Van Degen. That was it: the box was empty because Mrs. Van Degen was dining alone with Ralph Marvell! "PETER WILL BE AT ONE OF HIS DINNERS." Undine had a sharp vision of the Van Degen dining-room--she pictured it as oak-carved and sumptuous19 with gilding20 --with a small table in the centre, and rosy21 lights and flowers, and Ralph Marvell, across the hot-house grapes and champagne22, leaning to take a light from his hostess's cigarette. Undine had seen such scenes on the stage, she had come upon them in the glowing pages of fiction, and it seemed to her that every detail was before her now, from the glitter of jewels on Mrs. Van Degen's bare shoulders to the way young Marvell stroked his slight blond moustache while he smiled and listened.
Undine blushed with anger at her own simplicity23 in fancying that he had been "taken" by her--that she could ever really count among these happy self-absorbed people! They all had their friends, their ties, their delightful24 crowding obligations: why should they make room for an intruder in a circle so packed with the initiated25?
As her imagination developed the details of the scene in the Van Degen dining-room it became clear to her that fashionable society was horribly immoral26 and that she could never really be happy in such a poisoned atmosphere. She remembered that an eminent27 divine was preaching a series of sermons against Social Corruption28, and she determined29 to go and hear him on the following Sunday.
This train of thought was interrupted by the feeling that she was being intently observed from the neighbouring box. She turned around with a feint of speaking to Mrs. Lipscomb, and met the bulging30 stare of Peter Van Degen. He was standing31 behind the lady of the eye-glass, who had replaced her tortoise-shell implement32 by one of closely-set brilliants, which, at word from her companion, she critically bent33 on Undine.
"No--I don't remember," she said; and the girl reddened, divining herself unidentified after this protracted34 scrutiny35.
But there was no doubt as to young Van Degen's remembering her. She was even conscious that he was trying to provoke in her some reciprocal sign of recognition; and the attempt drove her to the haughty36 study of her programme.
"Why, there's Mr. Popple over there!" exclaimed Mabel Lipscomb, making large signs across the house with fan and play-bill.
Undine had already become aware that Mabel, planted, blond and brimming, too near the edge of the box, was somehow out of scale and out of drawing; and the freedom of her demonstrations37 increased the effect of disproportion. No one else was wagging and waving in that way: a gestureless mute telegraphy seemed to pass between the other boxes. Still, Undine could not help following Mrs. Lipscomb's glance, and there in fact was Claud Popple, taller and more dominant38 than ever, and bending easily over what she felt must be the back of a brilliant woman.
He replied by a discreet39 salute40 to Mrs. Lipscomb's intemperate41 motions, and Undine saw the brilliant woman's opera-glass turn in their direction, and said to herself that in a moment Mr. Popple would be "round." But the entr'acte wore on, and no one turned the handle of their door, or disturbed the peaceful somnolence42 of Harry43 Lipscomb, who, not being (as he put it) "onto" grand opera, had abandoned the struggle and withdrawn44 to the seclusion45 of the inner box. Undine jealously watched Mr. Popple's progress from box to box, from brilliant woman to brilliant woman; but just as it seemed about to carry him to their door he reappeared at his original post across the house.
"Undie, do look--there's Mr. Marvell!" Mabel began again, with another conspicuous46 outbreak of signalling; and this time Undine flushed to the nape as Mrs. Peter Van Degen appeared in the opposite box with Ralph Marvell behind her. The two seemed to be alone in the box--as they had doubtless been alone all the evening!--and Undine furtively47 turned to see if Mr. Van Degen shared her disapproval48. But Mr. Van Degen had disappeared, and Undine, leaning forward, nervously49 touched Mabel's arm.
"What's the matter. Undine? Don't you see Mr. Marvell over there? Is that his sister he's with?"
"No.--I wouldn't beckon50 like that," Undine whispered between her teeth.
"Why not? Don't you want him to know you're here?"
"Yes--but the other people are not beckoning51."
Mabel looked about unabashed. "Perhaps they've all found each other. Shall I send Harry over to tell him?" she shouted above the blare of the wind instruments.
"NO!" gasped52 Undine as the curtain rose.
She was no longer capable of following the action on the stage. Two presences possessed53 her imagination: that of Ralph Marvell, small, unattainable, remote, and that of Mabel Lipscomb, near-by, immense and irrepressible.
It had become clear to Undine that Mabel Lipscomb was ridiculous. That was the reason why Popple did not come to the box. No one would care to be seen talking to her while Mabel was at her side: Mabel, monumental and moulded while the fashionable were flexible and diaphanous54, Mabel strident and explicit55 while they were subdued56 and allusive57. At the Stentorian58 she was the centre of her group--here she revealed herself as unknown and unknowing. Why, she didn't even know that Mrs. Peter Van Degen was not Ralph Marvell's sister! And she had a way of trumpeting59 out her ignorances that jarred on Undine's subtler methods. It was precisely60 at this point that there dawned on Undine what was to be one of the guiding principles of her career: "IT'S BETTER TO WATCH THAN TO ASK QUESTIONS."
The curtain fell again, and Undine's eyes flew back to the Van Degen box. Several men were entering it together, and a moment later she saw Ralph Marvell rise from his seat and pass out. Half-unconsciously she placed herself in such a way as to have an eye on the door of the box. But its handle remained unturned, and Harry Lipscomb, leaning back on the sofa, his head against the opera cloaks, continued to breathe stentorously through his open mouth and stretched his legs a little farther across the threshold...
The entr'acte was nearly over when the door opened and two gentlemen stumbled over Mr. Lipscomb's legs. The foremost was Claud Walsingham Popple; and above his shoulder shone the batrachian countenance61 of Peter Van Degen. A brief murmur62 from Mr. Popple made his companion known to the two ladies, and Mr. Van Degen promptly63 seated himself behind Undine, relegating64 the painter to Mrs. Lipscomb's elbow.
"Queer go--I happened to see your friend there waving to old Popp across the house. So I bolted over and collared him: told him he'd got to introduce me before he was a minute older. I tried to find out who you were the other day at the Motor Show--no, where was it? Oh, those pictures at Goldmark's. What d'you think of 'em, by the way? You ought to be painted yourself--no, I mean it, you know--you ought to get old Popp to do you. He'd do your hair ripplingly. You must let me come and talk to you about it... About the picture or your hair? Well, your hair if you don't mind. Where'd you say you were staying? Oh, you LIVE here, do you? I say, that's first rate!"
Undine sat well forward, curving toward him a little, as she had seen the other women do, but holding back sufficiently65 to let it be visible to the house that she was conversing66 with no less a person than Mr. Peter Van Degen. Mr. Popple's talk was certainly more brilliant and purposeful, and she saw him cast longing67 glances at her from behind Mrs. Lipscomb's shoulder; but she remembered how lightly he had been treated at the Fairford dinner, and she wanted--oh, how she wanted!--to have Ralph Marvell see her talking to Van Degen.
She poured out her heart to him, improvising68 an opinion on the pictures and an opinion on the music, falling in gaily69 with his suggestion of a jolly little dinner some night soon, at the Cafe Martin, and strengthening her position, as she thought, by an easy allusion70 to her acquaintance with Mrs. Van Degen. But at the word her companion's eye clouded, and a shade of constraint71 dimmed his enterprising smile.
"My wife--? Oh, SHE doesn't go to restaurants--she moves on too high a plane. But we'll get old Popp, and Mrs.--, Mrs.--, what'd you say your fat friend's name was? Just a select little crowd of four--and some kind of a cheerful show afterward72... Jove! There's the curtain, and I must skip."
As the door closed on him Undine's cheeks burned with resentment73. If Mrs. Van Degen didn't go to restaurants, why had he supposed that SHE would? and to have to drag Mabel in her wake! The leaden sense of failure overcame her again. Here was the evening nearly over, and what had it led to? Looking up from the stalls, she had fancied that to sit in a box was to be in society--now she saw it might but emphasize one's exclusion74. And she was burdened with the box for the rest of the season! It was really stupid of her father to have exceeded his instructions: why had he not done as she told him?... Undine felt helpless and tired... hateful memories of Apex75 crowded back on her. Was it going to be as dreary76 here as there?
She felt Lipscomb's loud whisper in her back: "Say, you girls, I guess I'll cut this and come back for you when the show busts77 up." They heard him shuffle78 out of the box, and Mabel settled back to undisturbed enjoyment79 of the stage.
When the last entr'acte began Undine stood up, resolved to stay no longer. Mabel, lost in the study of the audience, had not noticed her movement, and as she passed alone into the back of the box the door opened and Ralph Marvell came in.
Undine stood with one arm listlessly raised to detach her cloak from the wall. Her attitude showed the long slimness of her figure and the fresh curve of the throat below her bent-back head. Her face was paler and softer than usual, and the eyes she rested on Marvell's face looked deep and starry80 under their fixed brows.
"Oh--you're not going?" he exclaimed.
"I thought you weren't coming," she answered simply.
"I waited till now on purpose to dodge81 your other visitors."
She laughed with pleasure. "Oh, we hadn't so many!"
Some intuition had already told her that frankness was the tone to take with him. They sat down together on the red damask sofa, against the hanging cloaks. As Undine leaned back her hair caught in the spangles of the wrap behind her, and she had to sit motionless while the young man freed the captive mesh82. Then they settled themselves again, laughing a little at the incident.
A glance had made the situation clear to Mrs. Lipscomb, and they saw her return to her rapt inspection83 of the boxes. In their mirror-hung recess84 the light was subdued to a rosy dimness and the hum of the audience came to them through half-drawn silken curtains. Undine noticed the delicacy85 and finish of her companion's features as his head detached itself against the red silk walls. The hand with which he stroked his small moustache was finely-finished too, but sinewy86 and not effeminate. She had always associated finish and refinement87 entirely88 with her own sex, but she began to think they might be even more agreeable in a man. Marvell's eyes were grey, like her own, with chestnut89 eyebrows90 and darker lashes91; and his skin was as clear as a woman's, but pleasantly reddish, like his hands.
As he sat talking in a low tone, questioning her about the music, asking her what she had been doing since he had last seen her, she was aware that he looked at her less than usual, and she also glanced away; but when she turned her eyes suddenly they always met his gaze.
His talk remained impersonal92. She was a little disappointed that he did not compliment her on her dress or her hair--Undine was accustomed to hearing a great deal about her hair, and the episode of the spangles had opened the way to a graceful93 allusion--but the instinct of sex told her that, under his quiet words, he was throbbing with the sense of her proximity94. And his self-restraint sobered her, made her refrain from the flashing and fidgeting which were the only way she knew of taking part in the immemorial love-dance. She talked simply and frankly95 of herself, of her parents, of how few people they knew in New York, and of how, at times, she was almost sorry she had persuaded them to give up Apex.
"You see, they did it entirely on my account; they're awfully96 lonesome here; and I don't believe I shall ever learn New York ways either," she confessed, turning on him the eyes of youth and truthfulness97. "Of course I know a few people; but they're not--not the way I expected New York people to be." She risked what seemed an involuntary glance at Mabel. "I've seen girls here to-night that I just LONG to know--they look so lovely and refined--but I don't suppose I ever shall. New York's not very friendly to strange girls, is it? I suppose you've got so many of your own already--and they're all so fascinating you don't care!" As she spoke98 she let her eyes rest on his, half-laughing, half-wistful, and then dropped her lashes while the pink stole slowly up to them.
When he left her he asked if he might hope to find her at home the next day.
The night was fine, and Marvell, having put his cousin into her motor, started to walk home to Washington Square. At the corner he was joined by Mr. Popple. "Hallo, Ralph, old man--did you run across our auburn beauty of the Stentorian? Who'd have thought old Harry Lipscomb'd have put us onto anything as good as that? Peter Van Degen was fairly taken off his feet--pulled me out of Mrs. Monty Thurber's box and dragged me 'round by the collar to introduce him. Planning a dinner at Martin's already. Gad99, young Peter must have what he wants WHEN he wants it! I put in a word for you--told him you and I ought to be let in on the ground floor. Funny the luck some girls have about getting started. I believe this one'll take if she can manage to shake the Lipscombs. I think I'll ask to paint her; might be a good thing for the spring show. She'd show up splendidly as a PENDANT to my Mrs. Van Degen--Blonde and Brunette... Night and Morning... Of course I prefer Mrs. Van Degen's type--personally, I MUST have breeding--but as a mere bit of flesh and blood... hallo, ain't you coming into the club?"
Marvell was not coming into the club, and he drew a long breath of relief as his companion left him.
Was it possible that he had ever thought leniently100 of the egregious101 Popple? The tone of social omniscience102 which he had once found so comic was now as offensive to him as a coarse physical touch. And the worst of it was that Popple, with the slight exaggeration of a caricature, really expressed the ideals of the world he frequented. As he spoke of Miss Spragg, so others at any rate would think of her: almost every one in Ralph's set would agree that it was luck for a girl from Apex to be started by Peter Van Degen at a Cafe Martin dinner...
Ralph Marvell, mounting his grandfather's doorstep, looked up at the symmetrical old red house-front, with its frugal103 marble ornament104, as he might have looked into a familiar human face.
"They're right,--after all, in some ways they're right," he murmured, slipping his key into the door.
"They" were his mother and old Mr. Urban Dagonet, both, from Ralph's earliest memories, so closely identified with the old house in Washington Square that they might have passed for its inner consciousness as it might have stood for their outward form; and the question as to which the house now seemed to affirm their intrinsic rightness was that of the social disintegration105 expressed by widely-different architectural physiognomies at the other end of Fifth Avenue. As Ralph pushed the bolts behind him, and passed into the hall, with its dark mahogany doors and the quiet "Dutch interior" effect of its black and white marble paving, he said to himself that what Popple called society was really just like the houses it lived in: a muddle106 of misapplied ornament over a thin steel shell of utility. The steel shell was built up in Wall Street, the social trimmings were hastily added in Fifth Avenue; and the union between them was as monstrous107 and factitious, as unlike the gradual homogeneous growth which flowers into what other countries know as society, as that between the Blois gargoyles108 on Peter Van Degen's roof and the skeleton walls supporting them.
That was what "they" had always said; what, at least, the Dagonet attitude, the Dagonet view of life, the very lines of the furniture in the old Dagonet house expressed. Ralph sometimes called his mother and grandfather the Aborigines, and likened them to those vanishing denizens109 of the American continent doomed110 to rapid extinction111 with the advance of the invading race. He was fond of describing Washington Square as the "Reservation," and of prophesying112 that before long its inhabitants would be exhibited at ethnological shows, pathetically engaged in the exercise of their primitive113 industries.
Small, cautious, middle-class, had been the ideals of aboriginal114 New York; but it suddenly struck the young man that they were singularly coherent and respectable as contrasted with the chaos115 of indiscriminate appetites which made up its modern tendencies. He too had wanted to be "modern," had revolted, half-humorously, against the restrictions116 and exclusions117 of the old code; and it must have been by one of the ironic118 reversions of heredity that, at this precise point, he began to see what there was to be said on the other side--his side, as he now felt it to be.
收听单词发音 |
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enviously
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| adv.满怀嫉妒地 | |
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mere
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| adj.纯粹的；仅仅，只不过 | |
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crimson
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| n./adj.深(绯)红色(的)；vi.脸变绯红色 | |
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niche
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| n.壁龛；合适的职务(环境、位置等) | |
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apprenticeship
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| n.学徒身份；学徒期 | |
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faculties
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| n.能力( faculty的名词复数 )；全体教职员；技巧；院 | |
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auditorium
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| n.观众席，听众席；会堂，礼堂 | |
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sentient
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| adj.有知觉的，知悉的；adv.有感觉能力地 | |
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throbbing
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| a. 跳动的,悸动的 | |
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shafts
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| n.轴( shaft的名词复数 )；（箭、高尔夫球棒等的）杆；通风井；一阵（疼痛、害怕等） | |
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subside
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| vi.平静，平息；下沉，塌陷，沉降 | |
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brittle
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| adj.易碎的；脆弱的；冷淡的；(声音)尖利的 | |
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transparent
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| adj.明显的，无疑的；透明的 | |
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coalescing
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| v.联合，合并( coalesce的现在分词 ) | |
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penumbra
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| n.（日蚀）半影部 | |
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fixed
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| adj.固定的，不变的，准备好的；(计算机)固定的 | |
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investigations
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| （正式的）调查( investigation的名词复数 )； 侦查； 科学研究； 学术研究 | |
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tantalized
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| v.逗弄，引诱，折磨( tantalize的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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sumptuous
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| adj.豪华的，奢侈的，华丽的 | |
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gilding
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| n.贴金箔，镀金 | |
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rosy
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| adj.美好的，乐观的，玫瑰色的 | |
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champagne
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| n.香槟酒；微黄色 | |
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simplicity
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| n.简单，简易；朴素；直率，单纯 | |
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delightful
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| adj.令人高兴的，使人快乐的 | |
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initiated
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| n. 创始人 adj. 新加入的 vt. 开始，创始，启蒙，介绍加入 | |
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immoral
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| adj.不道德的，淫荡的，荒淫的，有伤风化的 | |
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eminent
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| adj.显赫的，杰出的，有名的，优良的 | |
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corruption
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| n.腐败，堕落，贪污 | |
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determined
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| adj.坚定的；有决心的 | |
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bulging
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| 膨胀； 凸出（部）； 打气； 折皱 | |
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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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implement
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| n.(pl.)工具，器具；vt.实行，实施，执行 | |
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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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protracted
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| adj.拖延的；延长的v.拖延“protract”的过去式和过去分词 | |
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scrutiny
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| n.详细检查，仔细观察 | |
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haughty
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| adj.傲慢的，高傲的 | |
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demonstrations
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| 证明( demonstration的名词复数 )； 表明； 表达； 游行示威 | |
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dominant
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| adj.支配的，统治的；占优势的；显性的；n.主因，要素，主要的人(或物)；显性基因 | |
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discreet
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| adj.(言行)谨慎的；慎重的；有判断力的 | |
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salute
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| vi.行礼，致意，问候，放礼炮；vt.向…致意，迎接，赞扬；n.招呼，敬礼，礼炮 | |
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intemperate
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| adj.无节制的，放纵的 | |
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somnolence
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| n.想睡，梦幻；欲寐；嗜睡；嗜眠 | |
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harry
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| vt.掠夺，蹂躏，使苦恼 | |
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withdrawn
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| vt.收回；使退出；vi.撤退，退出 | |
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seclusion
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| n.隐遁，隔离 | |
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conspicuous
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| adj.明眼的，惹人注目的；炫耀的，摆阔气的 | |
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furtively
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| adv. 偷偷地, 暗中地 | |
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disapproval
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| n.反对，不赞成 | |
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nervously
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| adv.神情激动地，不安地 | |
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beckon
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| v.(以点头或打手势)向...示意，召唤 | |
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beckoning
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| adj.引诱人的，令人心动的v.（用头或手的动作）示意，召唤( beckon的现在分词 ) | |
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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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possessed
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| adj.疯狂的；拥有的，占有的 | |
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diaphanous
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| adj.(布)精致的，半透明的 | |
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explicit
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| adj.详述的，明确的；坦率的；显然的 | |
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subdued
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| adj. 屈服的，柔和的，减弱的 动词subdue的过去式和过去分词 | |
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allusive
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| adj.暗示的；引用典故的 | |
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58
stentorian
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| adj.大声的，响亮的 | |
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trumpeting
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| 大声说出或宣告（trumpet的现在分词形式） | |
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precisely
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| adv.恰好，正好，精确地，细致地 | |
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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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murmur
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| n.低语，低声的怨言；v.低语，低声而言 | |
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promptly
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| adv.及时地，敏捷地 | |
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relegating
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| v.使降级( relegate的现在分词 )；使降职；转移；把…归类 | |
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sufficiently
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| adv.足够地，充分地 | |
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conversing
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| v.交谈，谈话( converse的现在分词 ) | |
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longing
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| n.（for）渴望 | |
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improvising
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| 即兴创作（improvise的现在分词形式） | |
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gaily
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| adv.欢乐地，高兴地 | |
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allusion
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| n.暗示，间接提示 | |
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constraint
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| n.(on)约束，限制；限制(或约束)性的事物 | |
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afterward
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| adv.后来；以后 | |
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resentment
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| n.怨愤，忿恨 | |
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exclusion
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| n.拒绝，排除，排斥，远足，远途旅行 | |
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apex
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| n.顶点，最高点 | |
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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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busts
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| 半身雕塑像( bust的名词复数 )； 妇女的胸部； 胸围； 突击搜捕 | |
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shuffle
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| n.拖著脚走，洗纸牌；v.拖曳，慢吞吞地走 | |
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enjoyment
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| n.乐趣；享有；享用 | |
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starry
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| adj.星光照耀的, 闪亮的 | |
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81
dodge
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| v.闪开，躲开，避开；n.妙计，诡计 | |
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82
mesh
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| n.网孔，网丝，陷阱；vt.以网捕捉，啮合，匹配；vi.适合； [计算机]网络 | |
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inspection
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| n.检查，审查，检阅 | |
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recess
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| n.短期休息，壁凹（墙上装架子，柜子等凹处） | |
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delicacy
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| n.精致，细微，微妙，精良；美味，佳肴 | |
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sinewy
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| adj.多腱的，强壮有力的 | |
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refinement
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| n.文雅；高尚；精美；精制；精炼 | |
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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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89
chestnut
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| n.栗树，栗子 | |
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90
eyebrows
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| 眉毛( eyebrow的名词复数 ) | |
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lashes
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| n.鞭挞( lash的名词复数 )；鞭子；突然猛烈的一击；急速挥动v.鞭打( lash的第三人称单数 )；煽动；紧系；怒斥 | |
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impersonal
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| adj.无个人感情的，与个人无关的，非人称的 | |
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graceful
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| adj.优美的，优雅的；得体的 | |
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proximity
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| n.接近，邻近 | |
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frankly
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| adv.坦白地，直率地；坦率地说 | |
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awfully
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| adv.可怕地，非常地，极端地 | |
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truthfulness
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| n. 符合实际 | |
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98
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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99
gad
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| n.闲逛；v.闲逛 | |
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100
leniently
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| 温和地，仁慈地 | |
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101
egregious
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| adj.非常的，过分的 | |
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102
omniscience
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| n.全知，全知者，上帝 | |
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103
frugal
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| adj.节俭的，节约的，少量的，微量的 | |
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104
ornament
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| v.装饰，美化；n.装饰，装饰物 | |
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105
disintegration
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| n.分散，解体 | |
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106
muddle
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| n.困惑，混浊状态；vt.使混乱，使糊涂，使惊呆；vi.胡乱应付，混乱 | |
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107
monstrous
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| adj.巨大的；恐怖的；可耻的，丢脸的 | |
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108
gargoyles
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| n.怪兽状滴水嘴( gargoyle的名词复数 ) | |
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109
denizens
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| n.居民，住户( denizen的名词复数 ) | |
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110
doomed
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| 命定的 | |
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111
extinction
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| n.熄灭，消亡，消灭，灭绝，绝种 | |
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112
prophesying
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| v.预告，预言( prophesy的现在分词 ) | |
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113
primitive
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| adj.原始的；简单的；n.原(始)人，原始事物 | |
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114
aboriginal
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| adj.（指动植物）土生的，原产地的，土著的 | |
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115
chaos
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| n.混乱，无秩序 | |
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116
restrictions
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| 约束( restriction的名词复数 )； 管制； 制约因素； 带限制性的条件（或规则） | |
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117
exclusions
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| n.不包括的项目：如接受服务项目是由投保以前已患有的疾病或伤害引致的，保险公司有权拒绝支付。；拒绝( exclusion的名词复数 )；排除；被排斥在外的人（或事物）；排外主义 | |
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118
ironic
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| adj.讽刺的，有讽刺意味的，出乎意料的 | |
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