As Mr. Dangle1 bad witnessed, the fugitives2 had been left by him by the side of the road about two miles from Botley. Before Mr. Dangle's appearance, Mr. Hoopdriver had been learning with great interest that mere4 roadside flowers had names,--star-flowers, wind-stars, St. John's wort, willow5 herb, lords and ladies, bachelor's buttons,--most curious names, some of them. "The flowers are all different in South Africa, y'know," he was explaining with a happy fluke of his imagination to account for his ignorance. Then suddenly, heralded6 by clattering7 sounds and a gride of wheels, Dangle had flared8 and thundered across the tranquillity9 of the summer evening; Dangle, swaying and gesticulating behind a corybantic black horse, had hailed Jessie by her name, had backed towards the hedge for no ostensible10 reason, and vanished to the accomplishment11 of the Fate that had been written down for him from the very beginning of things. Jessie and Hoopdriver had scarcely time to stand up and seize their machines, before this tumultuous, this swift and wonderful passing of Dangle was achieved. He went from side to side of the road,--worse even than the riding forth14 of Mr. Hoopdriver it was, --and vanished round the corner.
"He knew my name," said Jessie. "Yes--it was Mr. Dangle."
"That was our bicycles did that," said Mr. Hoopdriver simultaneously15, and speaking with a certain complacent16 concern. "I hope he won't get hurt."
"That was Mr. Dangle," repeated Jessie, and Mr. Hoopdriver heard this time, with a violent start. His eyebrows17 went up spasmodically.
"What! someone you know?"
"Yes."
"Lord!"
"He was looking for me," said Jessie. "I could see. He began to call to me before the horse shied. My stepmother has sent him."
Mr. Hoopdriver wished he had returned the bicycle after all, for his ideas were still a little hazy18 about Bechamel and Mrs. Milton. Honesty IS the best policy--often, he thought. He turned his head this way and that. He became active. "After us, eigh? Then he'll come back. He's gone down that hill, and he won't be able to pull up for a bit, I'm certain."
Jessie, he saw, had wheeled her machine into the road and was mounting. Still staring at the corner that had swallowed up Dangle, Hoopdriver followed suit. And so, just as the sun was setting, they began another flight together,--riding now towards Bishops19 Waltham, with Mr. Hoopdriver in the post of danger--the rear--ever and again looking over his shoulder and swerving20 dangerously as he did so. Occasionally Jessie had to slacken her pace. He breathed heavily, and hated himself because his mouth fell open, After nearly an hour's hard riding, they found themselves uncaught at Winchester. Not a trace of Dangle nor any other danger was visible as they rode into the dusky, yellow-lit street. Though the bats had been fluttering behind thehedges and the evening star was bright while they were still two miles from Winchester, Mr. Hoopdriver pointed21 out the dangers of stopping in such an obvious abiding-place, and gently but firmly insisted upon replenishing the lamps and riding on towards Salisbury. From Winchester, roads branch in every direction, and to turn abruptly22 westward23 was clearly the way to throw off the chase. As Hoopdriver saw the moon rising broad and yellow through the twilight24, he thought he should revive the effect of that ride out of Bognor; but somehow, albeit25 the moon and all the atmospheric26 effects were the same, the emotions were different. They rode in absolute silence, and slowly after they had cleared the outskirts27 of Winchester. Both of them were now nearly tired out,--the level was tedious, and even a little hill a burden; and so it came about that in the hamlet of Wallenstock they were beguiled28 to stop and ask for accommodation in an exceptionally prosperouslooking village inn. A plausible29 landlady30 rose to the occasion.
Now, as they passed into the room where their suppers were prepared, Mr. Hoopdriver caught a glimpse through a door ajar and floating in a reek31 of smoke, of three and a half faces-- for the edge of the door cut one down--and an American cloth-covered table with several glasses and a tankard. And he also heard a remark. In the second before he heard that remark, Mr. Hoopdriver had been a proud and happy man, to particularize, a baronet's heir incognito32. He had surrendered their bicycles to the odd man of the place with infinite easy dignity, and had bowingly opened the door for Jessie. "Who's that, then?" he imagined people saying; and then, "Some'n pretty well orf--judge by the bicycles." Then the imaginary spectators would fall a-talking of the fashionableness of bicycling,--how judges And stockbrokers33 and actresses and, in fact, all the best people rode, and how that it was often the fancy of such great folk to shun34 the big hotels, the adulation of urban crowds, and seek, incognito, the cosy35 quaintnesses of village life. Then, maybe, they would think of a certain nameless air of distinction about the lady who had stepped across the doorway36, and about the handsome, flaxen-moustached, blue-eyed Cavalier who had followed her in, and they would look one to another. "Tell you what it is," one of the village elders would say--just as they do in novels--voicing the thought of all, in a low, impressive tone: "There's such a thinas entertaining barranets unawares-not to mention no higher things--"
Such, I say, had been the filmy, delightful37 stuff in Mr. Hoopdriver's head the moment before he heard that remark. But the remark toppled him headlong. What the precise remark was need not concern us. It was a casual piece of such satire38 as Strephon delights in. Should you be curious, dear lady, as to its nature, you have merely to dress yourself in a really modern cycling costume, get one of the feeblest-looking of your men to escort you, and ride out, next Saturday evening, to any public house where healthy, homely39 people gather together. Then you will hear quite a lot of the kind of thing Mr. Hoopdriver heard. More, possibly, than you will desire.
The remark, I must add, implicated40 Mr. Hoopdriver. It indicated an entire disbelief in his social standing41. At a blow, it shattered all the gorgeous imaginative fabric42 his mind had been rejoicing in. All that foolish happiness vanished like a dream. And there was nothing to show for it, as there is nothing to show for any spiteful remark that has ever been made. Perhaps the man who said the thing had a gleam of satisfaction at the idea of taking a complacent-looking fool down a peg43, but it is just as possible he did not know at the time that his stray shot had hit. He had thrown it as a boy throws a stone at a bird. And it not only demolished44 a foolish, happy conceit45, but it wounded. It touched Jessie grossly.
She did not hear it, he concluded from her subsequent bearing; but during the supper they had in the little private dining-room, though she talked cheerfully, he was preoccupied46. Whiffs of indistinct conversation, and now and then laughter, came in from the inn parloiir through the pelargoniums in the open window. Hoopdriver felt it must all be in the same strain,--at her expense and his. He answered her abstractedly. She was tired, she said, and presently went to her room. Mr. Hoopdriver, in his courtly way, opened the door for her and bowed her out. He stood listening and fearing some new offence as she went upstairs, and round the bend where the barometer47 hung beneath the stuffed birds. Then he went back to the room, and stood on the hearthrug before the. paper fireplace ornament48. "Cads!" he said in a scathing49 undertone, as a fresh burst of laughter came floating in. All through supper he had been composing stinging repartee50, a blistering51 speech of denunciation to be presently delivered. He would rate them as a nobleman should: "Call themselves Englishmen, indeed, and insult a woman!" he would say; take the names and addresses perhaps, threaten to speak to the Lord of the Manor52, promise to let them hear from him again, and so out with consternation53 in his wake. It really ought to be done.
"Teach 'em better," he said fiercely, and tweaked his moustache painfully. What was it? He revived the objectionable remark for his own exasperation54, and then went over the heads of his speech again.
He coughed, made three steps towards the door, then stopped and went back to the hearthrug. He wouldn't--after all. Yet was he not a Knight55 Errant? Should such men go unreproved, unchecked, by wandering baronets incognito? Magnanimity? Look at it in that way? Churls beneath one's notice? No; merely a cowardly subterfuge56. He WOULD after all.
Something within him protested that he was a hot-headed ass13 even as he went towards the door again. But he only went on the more resolutely57. He crossed the hall, by the bar, and entered the room from which the remark had proceeded. He opened the door abruptly and stood scowling58 on them in the doorway. "You'll only make a mess of it," remarked the internal sceptic. There were five men in the room altogether: a fat person, with a long pipe and a great number of chins, in an armchair by the fireplace, who wished Mr. Hoopdriver a good evening very affably; a young fellow smoking a cutty and displaying crossed legs with gaiters ; a little, bearded man with a toothless laugh; a middle-aged60, comfortable man with bright eyes, who wore a velveteen jacket; and a fair young man, very genteel in a yellowish-brown ready-made suit and a white tie.
"H'm," said Mr. Hoopdriver, looking very stern and harsh. And then in a forbidding tone, as one who consented to no liberties, "Good evening."
"Very pleasant day we've been 'aving," said the fair young man with the white tie.
"Very," said Mr. Hoopdriver, slowly; and taking a brown armchair, he planted it with great deliberation where he faced the fireplace, and sat down. Let's see--how did that speech begin?
"Very pleasant roads about here," said the fair young man with the white tie.
"Very," said Mr. Hoopdriver, eyeing him darkly. Have to begin somehow. "The roads about here are all right, and the weather about here is all right, but what I've come in here to say is--there's some damned unpleasant people--damned unpleasant people!"
"Oh!" said the young man with the gaiters, apparently61 making a mental inventory62 of his pearl buttons as he spoke63. "How's that?"
Mr. Hoopdriver put his hands on his knees and stuck out his elbows with extreme angularity. In his heart he was raving64 at his idiotic65 folly66 at thus bearding these lions,--indisputably they WERE lions,--but he had to go through with it now. Heaven send, his breath, which was already getting a trifle spasmodic, did not suddenly give out. He fixed67 his eye on the face of the fat man with the chins, and spoke in a low, impressive voice. "I came here, sir," said Mr. Hoopdriver, and paused to inflate68 his cheeks, "with a lady."
"Very nice lady," said the man with the gaiters, putting his head on one side to admire a pearl button that had been hiding behind the curvature of his calf69. "Very nice lady indeed."
"I came here," said Mr. Hoopdriver, "with a lady."
"We saw you did, bless you," said the fat man with the chins, in a curious wheezy voice. "I don't see there's anything so very extraordinary in that. One 'ud think we hadn't eyes."
Mr. Hoopdriver coughed. "I came, here, sir--"
"We've 'eard that," said the little man with the beard, sharply and went off into an amiable70 chuckle71. "We know it by 'art," said the little man, elaborating the point.
Mr. Hoopdriver temporarily lost his thread. He glared malignantly72 at the little man with the beard, and tried to recover his discourse73. A pause.
"You were saying," said the fair young man with the white tie, speaking very politely, "that you came here with a lady."
"A lady," meditated74 the gaiter gazer.
The man in velveteen, who was looking from one speaker to another with keen, bright eyes, now laughed as though a point had been scored, and stimulated75 Mr. Hoopdriver to speak, by fixing him with an expectant regard.
"Some dirty cad," said Mr. Hoopdriver, proceeding76 with his discourse, and suddenly growing extremely fierce, "made a remark as we went by this door."
"Steady on!" said the old gentleman with many chins. ,Steady on! Don't you go a-calling us names, please."
"One minute!" said Mr. Hoopdriver. "It wasn't I began calling names." ("Who did? said the man with the chins.) "I'm not calling any of you dirty cads. Don't run away with that impression. Only some person in this room made a remark that showed he wasn't fit to wipe boots on, and, with all due deference77 to such gentlemen as ARE gentlemen" (Mr. Hoopdriver looked round for moral support), "I want to know which it was."
"Meanin'?" said the fair young man in the white tie.
"That I'm going to wipe my boots on 'im straight away," said Mr. Hoopdriver, reverting78 to anger, if with a slight catch in his throat--than which threat of personal violence nothing had been further from his thoughts on entering the room. He said this because he could think of nothing else to say, and stuck out his elbows truculently79 to hide the sinking of his heart. It is curious how situations run away with us.
"'Ullo, Charlie!" said the little man, and "My eye!" said the owner of the chins. 'You're going to wipe your boots on 'im?" said the fair young man, in a tone of mild surprise.
"I am," said Mr. Hoopdriver, with emphatic81 resolution, and glared in the young man's face.
"That's fair and reasonable," said the man in the velveteen jacket; "if you can."
The interest of the meeting seemed transferred to the young man in the white tic. "Of course, if you can't find out which it is, I suppose you're prepared to wipe your boots in a liberal way on everybody in the room," said this young man, in the same tone of impersonal82 question. "This gentleman, the champion lightweight--"
"Own up, Charlie," said the young man with the gaiters, looking up for a moment. "And don't go a-dragging in your betters. It's fair and square. You can't get out of it."
"Was it this--gent?" began Mr. Hoopdriver.
"Of course," said the young man in the white tie, "when it comes to talking of wiping boots--"
"I'm not talking; I'm going to do it," said Mr. Hoopdriver.
He looked round at the meeting. They were no longer antagonists84; they were spectators. He would have to go through with it now. But this tone of personal aggression85 on the maker86 of the remark had somehow got rid of the oppressive feeling of Hoopdriver contra mundum. Apparently, he would have to fight someone. Would he get a black eye? Would he get very much hurt? Pray goodness it wasn't that sturdy chap in the gaiters! Should he rise and begin? What would she think if he brought a black eye to breakfast to-morrow?"Is this the man?" said Mr. Hoopdriver, with a business-like calm, and arms more angular than ever.
"Eat 'im!" said the little man with the beard; "eat 'im straight orf."
"Steady on!" said the young man in the white tie. "Steady on a minute. If I did happen to say--"
"You did, did you?" said Mr. Hoopdriver.
Backing out of it, Charlie?" said the young man with the gaiters.
"Not a bit," said Charlie. "Surely we can pass a bit of a joke--"
"I'm going to teach you to keep your jokes to yourself," said Mr. Hoopdriver.
"Bray-vo!" said the shepherd of the flock of chins.
"Charlie IS a bit too free with his jokes," said the little man with the beard.
"It's downright disgusting," said Hoopdriver, falling back upon his speech. "A lady can't ride a bicycle in a country road, or wear a dress a little out of the ordinary, but every dirty little greaser must needs go shouting insults--"
"_I_ didn't know the young lady would hear what I said," said Charlie. " Surely one can speak friendly to one's friends. How was I to know the door was open--"
Hoopdriver began to suspect that his antagonist83 was, if possible, more seriously alarmed at the prospect87 of violence than himself, and his spirits rose again. These chaps ought to have a thorough lesson. "Of COURSE you knew the door was open," he retorted indignantly. "Of COURSE you thought we should hear what you said. Don't go telling lies about it. It's no good your saying things like that. You've had your fun, and you meant to have your fun. And I mean to make an example of you, Sir."
"Ginger88 beer," said the little man with the beard, in a confidential89 tone to the velveteen jacket, "is regular up this 'ot weather. Bustin' its bottles it is everywhere."
"What's the good of scrapping90 about in a publichouse?" said Charlie, appealing to the company. "A fair fight without interruptions, now, I WOULDN'T mind, if the gentleman's so disposed."
Evidently the man was horribly afraid. Mr. Hoopdriver grew truculent80.
"Where you like," said Mr. Hoopdriver. "jest wherever you like."
"You insulted the gent," said the man in velveteen.
"Don't be a bloomin' funk, Charlie," said the man in gaiters. "Why, you got a stone of him, if you got an ounce."
"What I say, is this," said the gentleman with the excessive chins, trying to get a hearing by banging his chair arms. "If Charlie goes saying things, he ought to back 'em up. That's what I say. I don't mind his sayin' such things 't all, but he ought to be prepared to back 'em up."
"I'll BACK 'em up all right," said Charlie, with extremely bitter emphasis on 'back.' "If the gentleman likes to come Toosday week--"
"Rot!" chopped in Hoopdriver. "Now."
"'Ear, 'ear," said the owner of the chins.
"Never put off till to-morrow, Charlie, what you can do to-day," said the man in the velveteen coat.
"You got to do it, Charlie," said the man in gaiters. "It's no good."
"It's like this," said Charlie, appealing to everyone except Hoopdriver. "Here's me, got to take in her ladyship's dinner to-morrow night. How should I look with a black eye? And going round with the carriage with a split lip?"
"If you don't want your face sp'iled, Charlie, why don't you keep your mouth shut?" said the person in gaiters.
"Exactly," said Mr. Hoopdriver, driving it home with great fierceness. "Why don't you shut your ugly mouth?"
"It's as much as my situation's worth," protested Charlie.
"You should have thought of that before," said Hoopdriver.
"There's no occasion to be so thunderin' 'ot about it. I only meant the thing joking," said Charlie. "AS one gentleman to another, I'm very sorry if the gentleman's annoyed--"
Everybody began to speak at once. Mr. Hoopdriver twirled his moustache. He felt that Charlie's recognition of his gentlemanliness was at any rate a redeeming91 feature. But it became his pose to ride hard and heavy over the routed fo c. He shouted some insulting phrase over the tumult12.
"You're regular abject," the man in gaiters was saying to Charlie.
More confusion.
"Only don't think I'm afraid,--not of a spindle-legged cuss like him shouted Charlie. "Because I ain't."
"Change of front," thought Hoopdriver, a little startled. "Where are we going?"
"Don't sit there and be abusive," said the man in velveteen. "He's offered to hit you, and if I was him, I'd hit you now."
"All right, then," said Charlie, with a sudden change of front and springing to his feet. "If I must, I must. Now, then!" At that, Hoopdriver, the child of Fate, rose too, with a horrible sense that his internal monitor was right. Things had taken a turn. He had made a mess of it, and now there was nothing for it, so far as he could see, but to hit the man at once. He and Charlie stood six feet apart, with a table between, both very breathless and fierce. A vulgar fight in a public-house, and with what was only too palpably a footman! Good Heavens! And this was the dignified92, scornful remonstrance93! How the juice had it all happened? Go round the table at him, I suppose. But before the brawl94 could achieve itself, the man in gaiters intervened. "Not here," he said, stepping between the antagonists. Everyone was standing up.
"Charlie's artful," said the little man with the beard.
"Buller's yard," said the man with the gaiters, taking the control of the entire affair with the easy readiness of an accomplished95 practitioner96. "If the gentleman DON'T mind." Buller's yard, it seemed, was the very place. "We'll do the thing regular and decent, if you please." And before he completely realized what was happening, Hoopdriver was being marched out through the back premises97 of the inn, to the first and only fight with fists that was ever to glorify98 his life.
Outwardly, so far as the intermittent99 moonlight showed, Mr. Hoopdriver was quietly but eagerly prepared to fight. But inwardly he was a chaos100 of conflicting purposes. It was extraordinary how things happened. One remark had trod so closely on the heels of another, that he had had the greatest difficulty in following the development of the business. He distinctly remembered himself walking across from one room to the other,--a dignified, even an aristocratic figure, primed with considered eloquence101, intent upon a scathing remonstrance to these wretched yokels102, regarding their manners. Then incident had flickered103 into incident until here he was out in a moonlit lane,--a slight, dark figure in a group of larger, indistinct figures,--marching in a quiet, business-like way towards some unknown horror at Buller's yard. Fists! It was astonishing. It was terrible! In front of him was the pallid104 figure of Charles, and he saw that the man in gaiters held Charles kindly105 but firmly by the arm.
"It's blasted rot," Charles was saying, "getting up a fight just for a thing like that; all very well for 'im. 'E's got 'is 'olidays; 'e 'asn't no blessed dinner to take up to-morrow night like I 'ave.--No need to numb59 my arm, IS there?"
They went into Buller's yard through gates. There were sheds in Buller's yard--sheds of mystery that the moonlight could not solve--a smell of cows, and a pump stood out clear and black, throwing a clear black shadow on the whitewashed106 wall. And here it was his face was to be battered107 to a pulp108. He knew this was the uttermost folly, to stand up here and be pounded, but the way out of it was beyond his imagining. Yet afterwards--? Could he ever face her again? He patted his Norfolk jacket and took his ground with his back to the gate. How did one square? So? Suppose one were to turn and run even now, run straight back to the inn and lock himself into his bedroom? They couldn't make, him come out--anyhow. He could prosecute109 them for assault if they did. How did one set about prosecuting110 for assault? He saw Charles, with his face ghastly white under the moon, squaring in front of him.
He caught a blow on the arm and gave ground. Charles pressed him. Then he hit with his right and with the violence of despair. It was a hit of his own devising,--an impromptu,--but it chanced to coincide with the regulation hook hit at the head. He perceived with a leap of exultation111 that the thing his fist had met was the jawbone of Charles. It was the sole gleam of pleasure he experienced during the fight, and it was quite momentary113. He had hardly got home upon Charles before he was struck in the chest and whirled backward. He had the greatest difficulty in keeping his feet. He felt that his heart was smashed flat. "Gord darm!" said somebody, dancing toe in hand somewhere behind him. As Mr. Hoopdriver staggered, Charles gave a loud and fear-compelling cry. He seemed to tower over Hoopdriver in the moonlight. Both his fists were whirling. It was annihilation coming--no less. Mr. Hoopdriver ducked perhaps and certainly gave ground to the right, hit, and missed. Charles swept round to the left, missing generously. A blow glanced over Mr. Hoopdriver's left ear, and the flanking movement was completed. Another blow behind the ear. Heaven and earth spun114 furiously round Mr. Hoopdriver, and then he became aware of a figure in a light suit shooting violently through an open gate into the night. The man in gaiters sprang forward past Mr. Hoopdriver, but too late to intercept115 the fugitive3. There were shouts, laughter, and Mr. Hoopdriver, still solemnly squaring, realized the great and wonderful truth--Charles had fled. He, Hoopdriver, had fought and, by all the rules of war, had won.
"That was a pretty cut under the jaw112 you gave him," the toothless little man with the beard was remarking in an unexpectedly friendly manner.
"The fact of it is," said Mr. Hoopdriver, sitting beside the road to Salisbury, and with the sound of distant church bells in his cars, "I had to give the fellow a lesson; simply had to."
"It seems so dreadful that you should have to knock people about," said Jessie.
"These louts get unbearable," said Mr. Hoopdriver. "If now and then we didn't give them a lesson,--well, a lady cyclist in the roads would be an impossibility."
"I suppose every woman shrinks from violence," said Jessie. "I suppose men ARE braver--in a way--than women. It seems to me-I can't imagine -how one could bring oneself to face a roomful of rough characters, pick out the bravest, and. give him an exemplary thrashing. I quail116 at the idea. I thought only Ouida's guardsmen did things like that."
"It was nothing more than my juty--as a gentleman," said Mr. Hoopdriver.
"But to walk straight into the face of danger!"
"It's habit," said Mr. Hoopdriver, quite modestly, flicking117 off a particle of cigarette ash that had settled on his knee.
收听单词发音 |
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dangle
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| v.(使)悬荡，(使)悬垂 | |
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fugitives
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| n.亡命者，逃命者( fugitive的名词复数 ) | |
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fugitive
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| adj.逃亡的，易逝的；n.逃犯，逃亡者 | |
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mere
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| adj.纯粹的；仅仅，只不过 | |
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willow
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| n.柳树 | |
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heralded
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| v.预示( herald的过去式和过去分词 )；宣布（好或重要） | |
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clattering
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| 发出咔哒声（clatter的现在分词形式） | |
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Flared
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| adj. 端部张开的, 爆发的, 加宽的, 漏斗式的 动词flare的过去式和过去分词 | |
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tranquillity
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ostensible
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| adj.(指理由)表面的，假装的 | |
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accomplishment
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| n.完成，成就，（pl.）造诣，技能 | |
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tumult
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| n.喧哗；激动，混乱；吵闹 | |
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ass
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| n.驴；傻瓜，蠢笨的人 | |
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forth
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| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
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simultaneously
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| adv.同时发生地，同时进行地 | |
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complacent
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| adj.自满的；自鸣得意的 | |
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eyebrows
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| 眉毛( eyebrow的名词复数 ) | |
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hazy
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| adj.有薄雾的，朦胧的；不肯定的，模糊的 | |
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bishops
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| （基督教某些教派管辖大教区的）主教( bishop的名词复数 )； （国际象棋的）象 | |
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swerving
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pointed
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| adj.尖的，直截了当的 | |
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abruptly
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westward
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| n.西方，西部；adj.西方的，向西的；adv.向西 | |
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twilight
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| n.暮光，黄昏；暮年，晚期，衰落时期 | |
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albeit
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atmospheric
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| adj.大气的，空气的；大气层的；大气所引起的 | |
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outskirts
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beguiled
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| v.欺骗( beguile的过去式和过去分词 )；使陶醉；使高兴；消磨（时间等） | |
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29
plausible
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| adj.似真实的，似乎有理的，似乎可信的 | |
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30
landlady
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| n.女房东，女地主 | |
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31
reek
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| v.发出臭气；n.恶臭 | |
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32
incognito
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| adv.匿名地；n.隐姓埋名；adj.化装的，用假名的，隐匿姓名身份的 | |
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33
stockbrokers
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| n.股票经纪人( stockbroker的名词复数 ) | |
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34
shun
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| vt.避开，回避，避免 | |
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35
cosy
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| adj.温暖而舒适的，安逸的 | |
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36
doorway
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| n.门口，(喻)入门；门路，途径 | |
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37
delightful
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| adj.令人高兴的，使人快乐的 | |
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38
satire
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| n.讽刺，讽刺文学，讽刺作品 | |
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39
homely
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| adj.家常的，简朴的；不漂亮的 | |
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40
implicated
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| adj.密切关联的；牵涉其中的 | |
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41
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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42
fabric
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| n.织物，织品，布；构造，结构，组织 | |
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43
peg
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| n.木栓，木钉；vt.用木钉钉，用短桩固定 | |
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44
demolished
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| v.摧毁( demolish的过去式和过去分词 )；推翻；拆毁（尤指大建筑物）；吃光 | |
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45
conceit
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| n.自负，自高自大 | |
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46
preoccupied
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| adj.全神贯注的，入神的；被抢先占有的；心事重重的v.占据（某人）思想，使对…全神贯注，使专心于( preoccupy的过去式) | |
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47
barometer
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| n.气压表，睛雨表，反应指标 | |
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48
ornament
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| v.装饰，美化；n.装饰，装饰物 | |
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49
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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50
repartee
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| n.机敏的应答 | |
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51
blistering
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| adj.酷热的；猛烈的；使起疱的；可恶的v.起水疱；起气泡；使受暴晒n.[涂料] 起泡 | |
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52
manor
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| n.庄园，领地 | |
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53
consternation
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| n.大为吃惊，惊骇 | |
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54
exasperation
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| n.愤慨 | |
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55
knight
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| n.骑士，武士；爵士 | |
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56
subterfuge
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| n.诡计；藉口 | |
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57
resolutely
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| adj.坚决地，果断地 | |
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58
scowling
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| 怒视，生气地皱眉( scowl的现在分词 ) | |
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59
numb
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| adj.麻木的，失去感觉的；v.使麻木 | |
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middle-aged
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| adj.中年的 | |
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61
apparently
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| adv.显然地；表面上，似乎 | |
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62
inventory
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| n.详细目录，存货清单 | |
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63
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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raving
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| adj.说胡话的；疯狂的，怒吼的；非常漂亮的；令人醉心[痴心]的v.胡言乱语(rave的现在分词)n.胡话；疯话adv.胡言乱语地；疯狂地 | |
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idiotic
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| adj.白痴的 | |
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66
folly
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| n.愚笨，愚蠢，蠢事，蠢行，傻话 | |
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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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68
inflate
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| vt.使膨胀，使骄傲，抬高（物价） | |
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69
calf
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| n.小牛，犊，幼仔，小牛皮 | |
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amiable
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| adj.和蔼可亲的，友善的，亲切的 | |
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71
chuckle
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| vi.／n.轻声笑，咯咯笑 | |
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72
malignantly
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| 怀恶意地； 恶毒地； 有害地； 恶性地 | |
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discourse
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| n.论文，演说；谈话；话语；vi.讲述，著述 | |
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74
meditated
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| 深思，沉思，冥想( meditate的过去式和过去分词 )； 内心策划，考虑 | |
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stimulated
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| a.刺激的 | |
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76
proceeding
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| n.行动，进行，(pl.)会议录，学报 | |
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77
deference
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| n.尊重，顺从；敬意 | |
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78
reverting
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| 恢复( revert的现在分词 )； 重提； 回到…上； 归还 | |
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79
truculently
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80
truculent
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| adj.野蛮的，粗野的 | |
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81
emphatic
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| adj.强调的，着重的；无可置疑的，明显的 | |
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82
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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83
antagonist
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| n.敌人，对抗者，对手 | |
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84
antagonists
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| 对立[对抗] 者，对手，敌手( antagonist的名词复数 )； 对抗肌； 对抗药 | |
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85
aggression
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| n.进攻，侵略，侵犯，侵害 | |
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86
maker
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| n.制造者，制造商 | |
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87
prospect
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| n.前景，前途；景色，视野 | |
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88
ginger
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| n.姜，精力，淡赤黄色；adj.淡赤黄色的；vt.使活泼，使有生气 | |
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89
confidential
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| adj.秘（机）密的，表示信任的，担任机密工作的 | |
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90
scrapping
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| 刮，切除坯体余泥 | |
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91
redeeming
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| 补偿的，弥补的 | |
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92
dignified
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| a.可敬的，高贵的 | |
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93
remonstrance
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| n抗议，抱怨 | |
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94
brawl
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| n.大声争吵，喧嚷；v.吵架，对骂 | |
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accomplished
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| adj.有才艺的；有造诣的；达到了的 | |
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96
practitioner
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| n.实践者，从事者；(医生或律师等)开业者 | |
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97
premises
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| n.建筑物，房屋 | |
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98
glorify
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| vt.颂扬，赞美，使增光，美化 | |
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99
intermittent
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| adj.间歇的，断断续续的 | |
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100
chaos
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| n.混乱，无秩序 | |
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101
eloquence
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| n.雄辩；口才，修辞 | |
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102
yokels
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| n.乡下佬，土包子( yokel的名词复数 ) | |
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103
flickered
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| （通常指灯光）闪烁，摇曳( flicker的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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104
pallid
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| adj.苍白的，呆板的 | |
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105
kindly
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| adj.和蔼的，温和的，爽快的；adv.温和地，亲切地 | |
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106
whitewashed
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| 粉饰，美化，掩饰( whitewash的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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107
battered
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| adj.磨损的；v.连续猛击；磨损 | |
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108
pulp
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| n.果肉，纸浆；v.化成纸浆，除去...果肉，制成纸浆 | |
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109
prosecute
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| vt.告发；进行；vi.告发，起诉，作检察官 | |
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110
prosecuting
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| 检举、告发某人( prosecute的现在分词 )； 对某人提起公诉； 继续从事（某事物）； 担任控方律师 | |
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111
exultation
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| n.狂喜，得意 | |
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112
jaw
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| n.颚，颌，说教，流言蜚语；v.喋喋不休，教训 | |
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113
momentary
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| adj.片刻的，瞬息的；短暂的 | |
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114
spun
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| v.纺，杜撰，急转身 | |
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115
intercept
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| vt.拦截，截住，截击 | |
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116
quail
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| n.鹌鹑；vi.畏惧，颤抖 | |
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117
flicking
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| （尤指用手指或手快速地）轻击( flick的现在分词 )； （用…）轻挥； （快速地）按开关； 向…笑了一下（或瞥了一眼等） | |
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