Count Muffat had slowly returned as far as the boulevard. He glanced out at the roadway and then came sauntering back along the shopwindows. The damp and heated atmosphere filled the narrow passage with a slight luminous13 mist. Along the flagstones, which had been wet by the drip-drop of umbrellas, the footsteps of the crowd rang continually, but there was no sound of voices. Passers-by elbowed him at every turn and cast inquiring looks at his silent face, which the gaslight rendered pale. And to escape these curious manifestations14 the count posted himself in front of a stationer's, where with profound attention contemplated15 an array of paperweights in the form of glass bowls containing floating landscapes and flowers.
He was conscious of nothing: he was thinking of Nana. Why had she lied to him again? That morning she had written and told him not to trouble about her in the evening, her excuse being that Louiset was ill and that she was going to pass the night at her aunt's in order to nurse him. But he had felt suspicious and had called at her house, where he learned from the porter that Madame had just gone off to her theater. He was astonished at this, for she was not playing in the new piece. Why then should she have told him this falsehood, and what could she be doing at the Varietes that evening? Hustled16 by a passer-by, the count unconsciously left the paperweights and found himself in front of a glass case full of toys, where he grew absorbed over an array of pocketbooks and cigar cases, all of which had the same blue swallow stamped on one corner. Nana was most certainly not the same woman! In the early days after his return from the country she used to drive him wild with delight, as with pussycat caresses18 she kissed him all round his face and whiskers and vowed19 that he was her own dear pet and the only little man she adored. He was no longer afraid of Georges, whom his mother kept down at Les Fondettes. There was only fat Steiner to reckon with, and he believed he was really ousting20 him, but he did not dare provoke an explanation on his score. He knew he was once more in an extraordinary financial scrape and on the verge21 of being declared bankrupt on 'change, so much so that he was clinging fiercely to the shareholders22 in the Landes Salt Pits and striving to sweat a final subscription23 out of them. Whenever he met him at Nana's she would explain reasonably enough that she did not wish to turn him out of doors like a dog after all he had spent on her. Besides, for the last three months he had been living in such a whirl of sensual excitement that, beyond the need of possessing her, he had felt no very distinct impressions. His was a tardy24 awakening25 of the fleshly instinct, a childish greed of enjoyment26, which left no room for either vanity or jealousy27. Only one definite feeling could affect him now, and that was Nana's decreasing kindness. She no longer kissed him on the beard! It made him anxious, and as became a man quite ignorant of womankind, he began asking himself what possible cause of offense28 he could have given her. Besides, he was under the impression that he was satisfying all her desires. And so he harked back again and again to the letter he had received that morning with its tissue of falsehoods, invented for the extremely simple purpose of passing an evening at her own theater. The crowd had pushed him forward again, and he had crossed the passage and was puzzling his brain in front of the entrance to a restaurant, his eyes fixed30 on some plucked larks31 and on a huge salmon32 laid out inside the window.
At length he seemed to tear himself away from this spectacle. He shook himself, looked up and noticed that it was close on nine o'clock. Nana would soon be coming out, and he would make her tell the truth. And with that he walked on and recalled to memory the evenings he once passed in that region in the days when he used to meet her at the door of the theater.
He knew all the shops, and in the gas-laden33 air he recognized their different scents34, such, for instance, as the strong savor35 of Russia leather, the perfume of vanilla36 emanating37 from a chocolate dealer's basement, the savor of musk38 blown in whiffs from the open doors of the perfumers. But he did not dare linger under the gaze of the pale shopwomen, who looked placidly39 at him as though they knew him by sight. For one instant he seemed to be studying the line of little round windows above the shops, as though he had never noticed them before among the medley40 of signs. Then once again he went up to the boulevard and stood still a minute or two. A fine rain was now falling, and the cold feel of it on his hands calmed him. He thought of his wife who was staying in a country house near Macon, where her friend Mme de Chezelles had been ailing41 a good deal since the autumn. The carriages in the roadway were rolling through a stream of mud. The country, he thought, must be detestable in such vile42 weather. But suddenly he became anxious and re-entered the hot, close passage down which he strode among the strolling people. A thought struck him: if Nana were suspicious of his presence there she would be off along the Galerie Montmartre.
After that the count kept a sharp lookout43 at the very door of the theater, though he did not like this passage end, where he was afraid of being recognized. It was at the corner between the Galerie des Varietes and the Galerie Saint-Marc, an equivocal corner full of obscure little shops. Of these last one was a shoemaker's,
where customers never seemed to enter. Then there were two or three upholsterers', deep in dust, and a smoky, sleepy reading room and library, the shaded lamps in which cast a green and slumberous44 light all the evening through. There was never anyone in this corner save well-dressed, patient gentlemen, who prowled about the wreckage45 peculiar46 to a stage door, where drunken sceneshifters and ragged47 chorus girls congregate48. In front of the theater a single gas jet in a ground-glass globe lit up the doorway49. For a moment or two Muffat thought of questioning Mme Bron; then he grew afraid lest Nana should get wind of his presence and escape by way of the boulevard. So he went on the march again and determined50 to wait till he was turned out at the closing of the gates, an event which had happened on two previous occasions. The thought of returning home to his solitary51 bed simply wrung52 his heart with anguish53. Every time that golden-haired girls and men in dirty linen54 came out and stared at him he returned to his post in front of the reading room, where, looking in between two advertisements posted on a windowpane, he was always greeted by the same sight. It was a little old man, sitting stiff and solitary at the vast table and holding a green newspaper in his green hands under the green light of one of the lamps. But shortly before ten o'clock another gentleman, a tall, good-looking, fair man with well-fitting gloves, was also walking up and down in front of the stage door. Thereupon at each successive turn the pair treated each other to a suspicious sidelong glance. The count walked to the corner of the two galleries, which was adorned55 with a high mirror, and when he saw himself therein, looking grave and elegant, he was both ashamed and nervous.Ten o'clock struck, and suddenly it occurred to Muffat that it would be very easy to find out whether Nana were in her dressing56 room or not. He went up the three steps, crossed the little yellow-painted lobby and slipped into the court by a door which simply shut with a latch57. At that hour of the night the narrow, damp well of a court, with its pestiferous water closets, its fountain, its back view ot the kitchen stove and the collection of plants with which the portress used to litter the place, was drenched58 in dark mist; but the two walls, rising pierced with windows on either hand, were flaming with light, since the property room and the firemen's office were situated59 on the ground floor, with the managerial bureau on the left, and on the right and upstairs the dressing rooms of the company. The mouths of furnaces seemed to be opening on the outer darkness from top to bottom of this well. The count had at once marked the light in the windows of the dressing room on the first floor, and as a man who is comforted and happy, he forgot where he was and stood gazing upward amid the foul60 mud and faint decaying smell peculiar to the premises61 of this antiquated62 Parisian building. Big drops were dripping from a broken waterspout, and a ray of gaslight slipped from Mme Bron's window and cast a yellow glare over a patch of moss-clad pavement, over the base of a wall which had been rotted by water from a sink, over a whole cornerful of nameless filth63 amid which old pails and broken crocks lay in fine confusion round a spindling tree growing mildewed64 in its pot. A window fastening creaked, and the count fled.
Nana was certainly going to come down. He returned to his post in front of the reading room; among its slumbering65 shadows, which seemed only broken by the glimmer66 of a night light, the little old man still sat motionless, his side face sharply outlined against his newspaper. Then Muffat walked again and this time took a more prolonged turn and, crossing the large gallery, followed the Galerie des Varietes as far as that of Feydeau. The last mentioned was cold and deserted67 and buried in melancholy68 shadow. He returned from it, passed by the theater, turned the corner of the Galerie Saint-Marc and ventured as far as the Galerie Montmartre, where a sugar-chopping machine in front of a grocer's interested him awhile. But when he was taking his third turn he was seized with such dread69 lest Nana should escape behind his back that he lost all self-respect. Thereupon he stationed himself beside the fair gentleman in front of the very theater. Both exchanged a glance of fraternal humility70 with which was mingled71 a touch of distrust, for it was possible they might yet turn out to be rivals. Some sceneshifters who came out smoking their pipes between the acts brushed rudely against them, but neither one nor the other ventured to complain. Three big wenches with untidy hair and dirty gowns appeared on the doorstep. They were munching72 apples and spitting out the cores, but the two men bowed their heads and patiently braved their impudent74 looks and rough speeches, though they were hustled and, as it were, soiled by these trollops, who amused themselves by pushing each other down upon them.
At that very moment Nana descended75 the three steps. She grew very pale when she noticed Muffat.
"Oh, it's you!" she stammered76.
The sniggering extra ladies were quite frightened when they recognized her, and they formed in line and stood up, looking as stiff and serious as servants whom their mistress has caught behaving badly. The tall fair gentleman had moved away; he was at once reassured78 and sad at heart.
"Well, give me your arm," Nana continued impatiently.
They walked quietly off. The count had been getting ready to question her and now found nothing to say.
It was she who in rapid tones told a story to the effect that she had been at her aunt's as late as eight o'clock, when, seeing Louiset very much better, she had conceived the idea of going down to the theater for a few minutes.
"On some important business?" he queried79.
'Yes, a new piece," she replied after some slight hesitation80. "They wanted my advice."
He knew that she was not speaking the truth, but the warm touch of her arm as it leaned firmly on his own, left him powerless. He felt neither anger nor rancor81 after his long, long wait; his one thought was to keep her where she was now that he had got hold of her. Tomorrow, and not before, he would try and find out what she had come to her dressing room after. But Nana still appeared to hesitate; she was manifestly a prey82 to the sort of secret anguish that besets83 people when they are trying to regain84 lost ground and to initiate85 a plan of action. Accordingly, as they turned the corner of the Galerie des Varietes, she stopped in front of the show in a fan seller's window.
"I say, that's pretty," she whispered; "I mean that mother-of-pearl mount with the feathers."
Then, indifferently:
"So you're seeing me home?"
"Of course," he said, with some surprise, "since your child's better."
She was sorry she had told him that story. Perhaps Louiset was passing through another crisis! She talked of returning to the Batignolles. But when he offered to accompany her she did not insist on going. For a second or two she was possessed86 with the kind of white-hot fury which a woman experiences when she feels herself entrapped87 and must, nevertheless, behave prettily88. But in the end she grew resigned and determined to gain time. If only she could get rid of the count toward midnight everything would happen as she wished.
"Yes, it's true; you're a bachelor tonight," she murmured. "Your wife doesn't return till tomorrow, eh?"
"Yes," replied Muffat. It embarrassed him somewhat to hear her talking familiarly about the countess.
But she pressed him further, asking at what time the train was due and wanting to know whether he were going to the station to meet her. She had begun to walk more slowly than ever, as though the shops interested her very much.
"Now do look!" she said, pausing anew before a jeweler's window, "what a funny bracelet90!"
She adored the Passage des Panoramas. The tinsel of the ARTICLE DE PARIS, the false jewelry91, the gilded92 zinc93, the cardboard made to look like leather, had been the passion of her early youth. It remained, and when she passed the shop-windows she could not tear herself away from them. It was the same with her today as when she was a ragged, slouching child who fell into reveries in front of the chocolate maker's sweet-stuff shows or stood listening to a musical box in a neighboring shop or fell into supreme94 ecstasies95 over cheap, vulgarly designed knickknacks, such as nutshell workboxes, ragpickers' baskets for holding toothpicks, Vendome columns and Luxor obelisks96 on which thermometers were mounted. But that evening she was too much agitated97 and looked at things without seeing them. When all was said and done, it bored her to think she was not free. An obscure revolt raged within her, and amid it all she felt a wild desire to do something foolish. It was a great thing gained, forsooth, to be mistress of men of position! She had been devouring98 the prince's substance and Steiner's, too, with her childish caprices, and yet she had no notion where her money went. Even at this time of day her flat in the Boulevard Haussmann was not entirely99 furnished. The drawing room alone was finished, and with its red satin upholsteries and excess of ornamentation and furnirure it struck a decidedly false note. Her creditors101, moreover, would now take to tormenting102 her more than ever before whenever she had no money on hand, a fact which caused her constant surprise, seeing that she was wont103 to quote her self as a model of economy. For a month past that thief Steiner had been scarcely able to pay up his thousand francs on the occasions when she threatened to kick him out of doors in case he failed to bring them. As to Muffat, he was an idiot: he had no notion as to what it was usual to give, and she could not, therefore, grow angry with him on the score of miserliness. Oh, how gladly she would have turned all these folks off had she not repeated to herself a score of times daily a whole string of economical maxims104!
One ought to be sensible, Zoe kept saying every morning, and Nana herself was constantly haunted by the queenly vision seen at Chamont. It had now become an almost religious memory with her, and through dint105 of being ceaselessly recalled it grew even more grandiose106. And for these reasons, though trembling with repressed indignation, she now hung submissively on the count's arm as they went from window to window among the fast-diminishing crowd. The pavement was drying outside, and a cool wind blew along the gallery, swept the close hot air up beneath the glass that imprisoned107 it and shook the colored lanterns and the lines of gas jets and the giant fan which was flaring108 away like a set piece in an illumination. At the door of the restaurant a waiter was putting out the gas, while the motionless attendants in the empty, glaring shops looked as though they had dropped off to sleep with their eyes open.
"Oh, what a duck!" continued Nana, retracing109 her steps as far as the last of the shops in order to go into ecstasies over a porcelain110 greyhound standing111 with raised forepaw in front of a nest hidden among roses.
At length they quitted the passage, but she refused the offer of a cab. It was very pleasant out she said; besides, they were in no hurry, and it would be charming to return home on foot. When they were in front of the Cafe Anglais she had a sudden longing112 to eat oysters113. Indeed, she said that owing to Louiset's illness she had tasted nothing since morning. Muffat dared not oppose her. Yet as he did not in those days wish to be seen about with her he asked for a private supper room and hurried to it along the corridors. She followed him with the air of a woman familiar with the house, and they were on the point of entering a private room, the door of which a waiter held open, when from a neighboring saloon, whence issued a perfect tempest of shouts and laughter, a man rapidiy emerged. It was Daguenet.
"By Jove, it's Nana!" he cried.
The count had briskly disappeared into the private room, leaving the door ajar behind him. But Daguenet winked115 behind his round shoulders and added in chaffing tones:
"The deuce, but you're doing nicely! You catch 'em in the Tuileries nowadays!"
Nana smiled and laid a finger on her lips to beg him to be silent. She could see he was very much exalted116, and yet she was glad to have met him, for she still felt tenderly toward him, and that despite the nasty way he had cut her when in the company of fashionable ladies.
"What are you doing now?" she asked amicably117.
"Becoming respectable. Yes indeed, I'm thinking of getting married."
She shrugged119 her shoulders with a pitying air. But he jokingly continued to the effect that to be only just gaining enough on 'change to buy ladies bouquets120 could scarcely be called an income, provided you wanted to look respectable too! His three hundred thousand francs had only lasted him eighteen months! He wanted to be practical, and he was going to marry a girl with a huge dowry and end off as a PREFET, like his father before him! Nana still smiled incredulously. She nodded in the direction of the saloon: "Who are you with in there?"
"Oh, a whole gang," he said, forgetting all about his projects under the influence of returning intoxication121. "Just think! Lea is telling us about her trip in Egypt. Oh, it's screaming! There's a bathing story--"
And he told the story while Nana lingered complaisantly. They had ended by leaning up against the wall in the corridor, facing one another. Gas jets were flaring under the low ceiling, and a vague smell of cookery hung about the folds of the hangings. Now and again, in order to hear each other's voices when the din10 in the saloon became louder than ever, they had to lean well forward. Every few seconds, however, a waiter with an armful of dishes found his passage barred and disturbed them. But they did not cease their talk for that; on the contrary, they stood close up to the walls and, amid the uproar122 of the supper party and the jostlings of the waiters, chatted as quietly as if they were by their own firesides.
"Just look at that," whispered the young man, pointing to the door of the private room through which Muffat had vanished.
Both looked. The door was quivering slightly; a breath of air seemed to be disturbing it, and at last, very, very slowly and without the least sound, it was shut to. They exchanged a silent chuckle123. The count must be looking charmingly happy all alone in there!
"By the by," she asked, "have you read Fauchery's article about me?"
"Yes, 'The Golden Fly,'" replied Daguenet; "I didn't mention it to you as I was afraid of paining you."
"Paining me--why? His article's a very long one."
She was flattered to think that the Figaro should concern itself about her person. But failing the explanations of her hairdresser Francis, who had brought her the paper, she would not have understood that it was she who was in question. Daguenet scrutinized124 her slyly, sneering125 in his chaffing way. Well, well, since she was pleased, everybody else ought to be.
"By your leave!" shouted a waiter, holding a dish of iced cheese in both hands as he separated them.
Nana had stepped toward the little saloon where Muffat was waiting.
"Well, good-by!" continued Daguenet. "Go and find your cuckold again."
But she halted afresh.
"Why d'you call him cuckold?"
"Because he is a cuckold, by Jove!"
She came and leaned against the wall again; she was profoundly interested.
"Ah!" she said simply.
"What, d'you mean to say you didn't know that? Why, my dear girl, his wife's Fauchery's mistress. It probably began in the country. Some time ago, when I was coming here, Fauchery left me, and I suspect he's got an assignation with her at his place tonight. They've made up a story about a journey, I fancy."
Overcome with surprise, Nana remained voiceless.
"I suspected it," she said at last, slapping her leg. "I guessed it by merely looking at her on the highroad that day. To think of its being possible for an honest woman to deceive her husband, and with that blackguard Fauchery too! He'll teach her some pretty things!"
"Oh, it isn't her trial trip," muttered Daguenet wickedly. "Perhaps she knows as much about it as he does."
At this Nana gave vent29 to an indignant exclamation126.
"Indeed she does! What a nice world! It's too foul!"
"By your leave!" shouted a waiter, laden with bottles, as he separated them.
Daguenet drew her forward again and held her hand for a second or two. He adopted his crystalline tone of voice, the voice with notes as sweet as those of a harmonica, which had gained him his success among the ladies of Nana's type.
"Good-by, darling! You know I love you always."
She disengaged her hand from his, and while a thunder of shouts and bravos, which made the door in the saloon tremble again, almost drowned her words she smilingly remarked:
"It's over between us, stupid! But that doesn't matter. Do come up one of these days, and we'll have a chat."
Then she became serious again and in the outraged127 tones of a respectable woman:
"So he's a cuckold, is he?" she cried. "Well, that IS a nuisance, dear boy. They've always sickened me, cuckolds have."
When at length she went into the private room she noticed that Muffat was sitting resignedly on a narrow divan128 with pale face and twitching129 hands. He did not reproach her at all, and she, greatly moved, was divided between feelings of pity and of contempt. The poor man! To think of his being so unworthily cheated by a vile wife! She had a good mind to throw her arms round his neck and comfort him. But it was only fair all the same! He was a fool with women, and this would teach him a lesson! Nevertheless, pity overcame her. She did not get rid of him as she had determined to do after the oysters had been discussed. They scarcely stayed a quarter of an hour in the Cafe Anglais, and together they went into the house in the Boulevard Haussmann. It was then eleven. Before midnight she would have easily have discovered some means of getting rid of him kindly130.
In the anteroom, however, she took the precaution of giving Zoe an order. "You'll look out for him, and you'll tell him not to make a noise if the other man's still with me."
"But where shall I put him, madame?"
"Keep him in the kitchen. It's more safe."
In the room inside Muffat was already taking off his overcoat. A big fire was burning on the hearth131. It was the same room as of old, with its rosewood furniture and its hangings and chair coverings of figured damask with the large blue flowers on a gray background. On two occasions Nana had thought of having it redone, the first in black velvet132, the second in white satin with bows, but directly Steiner consented she demanded the money that these changes would cost simply with a view to pillaging133 him. She had, indeed, only indulged in a tiger skin rug for the hearth and a cut-glass hanging lamp.
"I'm not sleepy; I'm not going to bed," she said the moment they were shut in together.
The count obeyed her submissively, as became a man no longer afraid of being seen. His one care now was to avoid vexing134 her.
"As you will," he murmured.
Nevertheless, he took his boots off, too, before seating himself in front of the fire. One of Nana's pleasures consisted in undressing herself in front of the mirror on her wardrobe door, which reflected her whole height. She would let everything slip off her in turn and then would stand perfectly135 naked and gaze and gaze in complete oblivion of all around her. Passion for her own body, ecstasy136 over her satin skin and the supple137 contours of her shape, would keep her serious, attentive138 and absorbed in the love of herself. The hairdresser frequently found her standing thus and would enter without her once turning to look at him. Muffat used to grow angry then, but he only succeeded in astonishing her. What was coming over the man? She was doing it to please herself, not other people.
That particular evening she wanted to have a better view of herself, and she lit the six candles attached to the frame of the mirror. But while letting her shift slip down she paused. She had been preoccupied139 for some moments past, and a question was on her lips.
"You haven't read the Figaro article, have you? The paper's on the table." Daguenet's laugh had recurred140 to her recollections, and she was harassed141 by a doubt. If that Fauchery had slandered142 her she would be revenged.
"They say that it's about me," she continued, affecting indifference143. "What's your notion, eh, darling?"
And letting go her shift and waiting till Muffat should have done reading, she stood naked. Muffat was reading slowly Fauchery's article entitled "The Golden Fly," describing the life of a harlot descended from four or five generations of drunkards and tainted144 in her blood by a cumulative145 inheritance of misery146 and drink, which in her case has taken the form of a nervous exaggeration of the sexual instinct. She has shot up to womanhood in the slums and on the pavements of Paris, and tall, handsome and as superbly grown as a dunghill plant, she avenges147 the beggars and outcasts of whom she is the ultimate product. With her the rottenness that is allowed to ferment148 among the populace is carried upward and rots the aristocracy. She becomes a blind power of nature, a leaven149 of destruction, and unwittingly she corrupts150 and disorganizes all Paris, churning it between her snow-white thighs151 as milk is monthly churned by housewives. And it was at the end of this article that the comparison with a fly occurred, a fly of sunny hue153 which has flown up out of the dung, a fly which sucks in death on the carrion154 tolerated by the roadside and then buzzing, dancing and glittering like a precious stone enters the windows of palaces and poisons the men within by merely settling on them in her flight.
Muffat lifted his head; his eyes stared fixedly155; he gazed at the fire.
"Well?" asked Nana.
But he did not answer. It seemed as though he wanted to read the article again. A cold, shivering feeling was creeping from his scalp to his shoulders. This article had been written anyhow. The phrases were wildly extravagant156; the unexpected epigrams and quaint157 collocations of words went beyond all bounds. Yet notwithstanding this, he was struck by what he had read, for it had rudely awakened158 within him much that for months past he had not cared to think about.
He looked up. Nana had grown absorbed in her ecstatic self-contemplation. She was bending her neck and was looking attentively159 in the mirror at a little brown mark above her right haunch. She was touching160 it with the tip of her finger and by dint of bending backward was making it stand out more clearly than ever. Situated where it was, it doubtless struck her as both quaint and pretty. After that she studied other parts of her body with an amused expression and much of the vicious curiosity of a child. The sight of herself always astonished her, and she would look as surprised and ecstatic as a young girl who has discovered her puberty. Slowly, slowly, she spread out her arms in order to give full value to her figure, which suggested the torso of a plump Venus. She bent161 herself this way and that and examined herself before and behind, stooping to look at the side view of her bosom162 and at the sweeping163 contours of her thighs. And she ended with a strange amusement which consisted of swinging to right and left, her knees apart and her body swaying from the waist with the perpetual jogging, twitching movements peculiar to an oriental dancer in the danse du ventre.
Muffat sat looking at her. She frightened him. The newspaper had dropped from his hand. For a moment he saw her as she was, and he despised himself. Yes, it was just that; she had corrupted164 his life; he already felt himself tainted to his very marrow165 by impurities166 hitherto undreamed of. Everything was now destined167 to rot within him, and in the twinkling of an eye he understood what this evil entailed168. He saw the ruin brought about by this kind of "leaven"--himself poisoned, his family destroyed, a bit of the social fabric169 cracking and crumbling170. And unable to take his eyes from the sight, he sat looking fixedly at her, striving to inspire himself with loathing171 for her nakedness.
Nana no longer moved. With an arm behind her neck, one hand clasped in the other, and her elbows far apart, she was throwing back her head so that he could see a foreshortened reflection of her half-closed eyes, her parted lips, her face clothed with amorous172 laughter. Her masses of yellow hair were unknotted behind, and they covered her back with the fell of a lioness.
Bending back thus, she displayed her solid Amazonian waist and firm bosom, where strong muscles moved under the satin texture173 of the skin. A delicate line, to which the shoulder and the thigh152 added their slight undulations, ran from one of her elbows to her foot, and Muffat's eyes followed this tender profile and marked how the outlines of the fair flesh vanished in golden gleams and how its rounded contours shone like silk in the candlelight. He thought of his old dread of Woman, of the Beast of the Scriptures174, at once lewd175 and wild. Nana was all covered with fine hair; a russet made her body velvety176, while the Beast was apparent in the almost equine development of her flanks, in the fleshy exuberances and deep hollows of her body, which lent her sex the mystery and suggestiveness lurking177 in their shadows. She was, indeed, that Golden Creature, blind as brute178 force, whose very odor ruined the world. Muffat gazed and gazed as a man possessed, till at last, when he had shut his eyes in order to escape it, the Brute reappeared in the darkness of the brain, larger, more terrible, more suggestive in its attitude. Now, he understood, it would remain before his eyes, in his very flesh, forever.
But Nana was gathering179 herself together. A little thrill of tenderness seemed to have traversed her members. Her eyes were moist; she tried, as it were, to make herself small, as though she could feel herself better thus. Then she threw her head and bosom back and, melting, as it were, in one great bodily caress17, she rubbed her cheeks coaxingly180, first against one shoulder, then against the other. Her lustful181 mouth breathed desire over her limbs. She put out her lips, kissed herself long in the neighborhood of her armpit and laughed at the other Nana who also was kissing herself in the mirror.
Then Muffat gave a long sigh. This solitary pleasure exasperated182 him. Suddenly all his resolutions were swept away as though by a mighty184 wind. In a fit of brutal185 passion he caught Nana to his breast and threw her down on the carpet.
"Leave me alone!" she cried. "You're hurting me!"
He was conscious of his undoing186; he recognized in her stupidity, vileness187 and falsehood, and he longed to possess her, poisoned though she was.
"Oh, you're a fool!" she said savagely188 when he let her get up.
Nevertheless, she grew calm. He would go now. She slipped on a nightgown trimmed with lace and came and sat down on the floor in front of the fire. It was her favorite position. When she again questioned him about Fauchery's article Muffat replied vaguely189, for he wanted to avoid a scene. Besides, she declared that she had found a weak spot in Fauchery. And with that she relapsed into a long silence and reflected on how to dismiss the count. She would have liked to do it in an agreeable way, for she was still a good-natured wench, and it bored her to cause others pain, especially in the present instance where the man was a cuckold. The mere77 thought of his being that had ended by rousing her sympathies!
"So you expect your wife tomorrow morning?" she said at last.
Muffat had stretched himself in an armchair. He looked drowsy190, and his limbs were tired. He gave a sign of assent191. Nana sat gazing seriously at him with a dull tumult192 in her brain. Propped193 on one leg, among her slightly rumpled194 laces she was holding one of her bare feet between her hands and was turning it mechanically about and about.
"Have you been married long?" she asked.
"Nineteen years," replied the count
"Ah! And is your wife amiable195? Do you get on comfortably together?"
He was silent. Then with some embarrassment196:
"You know I've begged you never to talk of those matters."
"Dear me, why's that?" she cried, beginning to grow vexed197 directly. "I'm sure I won't eat your wife if I DO talk about her. Dear boy, why, every woman's worth--"
But she stopped for fear of saying too much. She contented198 herself by assuming a superior expression, since she considered herself extremely kind. The poor fellow, he needed delicate handling! Besides, she had been struck by a laughable notion, and she smiled as she looked him carefully over.
"I say," she continued, "I haven't told you the story about you that Fauchery's circulating. There's a viper200, if you like! I don't bear him any ill will, because his article may be all right, but he's a regular viper all the same."
And laughing more gaily201 than ever, she let go her foot and, crawling along the floor, came and propped herself against the count's knees.
"Now just fancy, he swears you were still like a babe when you married your wife. You were still like that, eh? Is it true, eh?"
Her eyes pressed for an answer, and she raised her hands to his shoulders and began shaking him in order to extract the desired confession202.
"Without doubt," he at last made answer gravely.
Thereupon she again sank down at his feet. She was shaking with uproarious laughter, and she stuttered and dealt him little slaps.
"No, it's too funny! There's no one like you; you're a marvel203. But, my poor pet, you must just have been stupid! When a man doesn't know--oh, it is so comical! Good heavens, I should have liked to have seen you! And it came off well, did it? Now tell me something about it! Oh, do, do tell me!"
She overwhelmed him with questions, forgetting nothing and requiring the veriest details. And she laughed such sudden merry peals204 which doubled her up with mirth, and her chemise slipped and got turned down to such an extent, and her skin looked so golden in the light of the big fire, that little by little the count described to her his bridal night. He no longer felt at all awkward. He himself began to be amused at last as he spoke205. Only he kept choosing his phrases, for he still had a certain sense of modesty206. The young woman, now thoroughly207 interested, asked him about the countess. According to his account, she had a marvelous figure but was a regular iceberg208 for all that.
"Oh, get along with you!" he muttered indolently. "You have no cause to be jealous."
Nana had ceased laughing, and she now resumed her former position and, with her back to the fire, brought her knees up under her chin with her clasped hands. Then in a serious tone she declared:
"It doesn't pay, dear boy, to look like a ninny with one's wife the first night."
"Why?" queried the astonished count.
"Because," she replied slowly, assuming a doctorial expression.
And with that she looked as if she were delivering a lecture and shook her head at him. In the end, however, she condescended209 to explain herself more lucidly210.
"Well, look here! I know how it all happens. Yes, dearie, women don't like a man to be foolish. They don't say anything because there's such a thing as modesty, you know, but you may be sure they think about it for a jolly long time to come. And sooner or later, when a man's been an ignoramus, they go and make other arrangements. That's it, my pet."
He did not seem to understand. Whereupon she grew more definite still. She became maternal211 and taught him his lesson out of sheer goodness of heart, as a friend might do. Since she had discovered him to be a cuckold the information had weighed on her spirits; she was madly anxious to discuss his position with him.
"Good heavens! I'm talking of things that don't concern me. I've said what I have because everybody ought to be happy. We're having a chat, eh? Well then, you're to answer me as straight as you can."
But she stopped to change her position, for she was burning herself. "It's jolly hot, eh? My back's roasted. Wait a second. I'll cook my tummy a bit. That's what's good for the aches!"
And when she had turned round with her breast to the fire and her feet tucked under her:
"Let me see," she said; "you don't sleep with your wife any longer?"
"No, I swear to you I don't," said Muffat, dreading212 a scene.
"And you believe she's really a stick?"
He bowed his head in the affirmative.
"And that's why you love me? Answer me! I shan't be angry."
He repeated the same movement.
"Very well then," she concluded. "I suspected as much! Oh, the poor pet. Do you know my aunt Lerat? When she comes get her to tell you the story about the fruiterer who lives opposite her. Just fancy that man--Damn it, how hot this fire is! I must turn round. I'm going to roast my left side now." And as she presented her side to the blaze a droll213 idea struck her, and like a good-tempered thing, she made fun of herself for she was dellghted to see that she was looking so plump and pink in the light of the coal fire.
"I look like a goose, eh? Yes, that's it! I'm a goose on the spit, and I'm turning, turning and cooking in my own juice, eh?"
And she was once more indulging in a merry fit of laughter when a sound of voices and slamming doors became audible. Muffat was surprised, and he questioned her with a look. She grew serious, and an anxious expression came over her face. It must be Zoe's cat, a cursed beast that broke everything. It was half-past twelve o'clock. How long was she going to bother herself in her cuckold's behalf? Now that the other man had come she ought to get him out of the way, and that quickly.
"What were you saying?" asked the count complaisantly, for he was charmed to see her so kind to him.
But in her desire to be rid of him she suddenly changed her mood, became brutal and did not take care what she was saying.
"Oh yes! The fruiterer and his wife. Well, my dear fellow, they never once touched one another! Not the least bit! She was very keen on it, you understand, but he, the ninny, didn't know it. He was so green that he thought her a stick, and so he went elsewhere and took up with streetwalkers, who treated him to all sorts of nastiness, while she, on her part, made up for it beautifully with fellows who were a lot slyer than her greenhorn of a husband. And things always turn out that way through people not understanding one another. I know it, I do!"
Muffat was growing pale. At last he was beginning to understand her allusions214, and he wanted to make her keep silence. But she was in full swing.
"No, hold your tongue, will you? If you weren't brutes215 you would be as nice with your wives as you are with us, and if your wives weren't geese they would take as much pains to keep you as we do to get you. That's the way to behave. Yes, my duck, you can put that in your pipe and smoke it."
"Do not talk of honest women," he said in a hard voice. "You do not know them."
At that Nana rose to her knees.
"I don't know them! Why, they aren't even clean, your honest women aren't! They aren't even clean! I defy you to find me one who would dare show herself as I am doing. Oh, you make me laugh with your honest women. Don't drive me to it; don't oblige me to tell you things I may regret afterward."
The count, by way of answer, mumbled217 something insulting. Nana became quite pale in her turn. For some seconds she looked at him without speaking. Then in her decisive way:
"What would you do if your wife were deceiving you?"
He made a threatening gesture.
"Well, and if I were to?"
"Oh, you," he muttered with a shrug118 of his shoulders.
Nana was certainly not spiteful. Since the beginning of the conversation she had been strongly tempted218 to throw his cuckold's reputation in his teeth, but she had resisted. She would have liked to confess him quietly on the subject, but he had begun to exasperate183 her at last. The matter ought to stop now.
"Well, then, my dearie," she continued, "I don't know what you're getting at with me. For two hours past you've been worrying my life out. Now do just go and find your wife, for she's at it with Fauchery. Yes, it's quite correct; they're in the Rue89 Taitbout, at the corner of the Rue de Provence. You see, I'm giving you the address."
Then triumphantly219, as she saw Muffat stagger to his feet like an ox under the hammer:
"If honest women must meddle220 in our affairs and take our sweethearts from us--Oh, you bet they're a nice lot, those honest women!"
But she was unable to proceed. With a terrible push he had cast her full length on the floor and, lifting his heel, he seemed on the point of crushing in her head in order to silence her. For the twinkling of an eye she felt sickening dread. Blinded with rage, he had begun beating about the room like a maniac221. Then his choking silence and the struggle with which he was shaken melted her to tears. She felt a mortal regret and, rolling herself up in front of the fire so as to roast her right side, she undertook the task of comforting him.
"I take my oath, darling, I thought you knew it all. Otherwise I shouldn't have spoken; you may be sure. But perhaps it isn't true. I don't say anything for certain. I've been told it, and people are talking about it, but what does that prove? Oh, get along! You're very silly to grow riled about it. If I were a man I shouldn't care a rush for the women! All the women are alike, you see, high or low; they're all rowdy and the rest of it."
In a fit of self-abnegation she was severe on womankind, for she wished thus to lessen222 the cruelty of her blow. But he did not listen to her or hear what she said. With fumbling223 movements he had put on his boots and his overcoat. For a moment longer he raved73 round, and then in a final outburst, finding himself near the door, he rushed from the room. Nana was very much annoyed.
"Well, well! A prosperous trip to you!" she continued aloud, though she was now alone. "He's polite, too, that fellow is, when he's spoken to! And I had to defend myself at that! Well, I was the first to get back my temper and I made plenty of excuses, I'm thinking! Besides, he had been getting on my nerves!"
Nevertheless, she was not happy and sat scratching her legs with both hands. Then she took high ground:
"Tut, tut, it isn't my fault if he is a cuckold!"
And toasted on every side and as hot as a roast bird, she went and buried herself under the bedclothes after ringing for Zoe to usher224 in the other man, who was waiting in the kitchen.
Once outside, Muffat began walking at a furious pace. A fresh shower had just fallen, and he kept slipping on the greasy225 pavement. When he looked mechanically up into the sky he saw ragged, soot-colored clouds scudding226 in front of the moon. At this hour of the night passers-by were becoming few and far between in the Boulevard Haussmann. He skirted the enclosures round the opera house in his search for darkness, and as he went along he kept mumbling227 inconsequent phrases. That girl had been lying. She had invented her story out of sheer stupidity and cruelty. He ought to have crushed her head when he had it under his heel. After all was said and done, the business was too shameful228. Never would he see her; never would he touch her again, or if he did he would be miserably229 weak. And with that he breathed hard, as though he were free once more. Oh, that naked, cruel monster, roasting away like any goose and slavering over everything that he had respected for forty years back. The moon had come out, and the empty street was bathed in white light. He felt afraid, and he burst into a great fit of sobbing230, for he had grown suddenly hopeless and maddened as though he had sunk into a fathomless231 void.
"My God!" he stuttered out. "It's finished! There's nothing left now!"
Along the boulevards belated people were hurrying. He tried hard to be calm, and as the story told him by that courtesan kept recurring232 to his burning consciousness, he wanted to reason the matter out. The countess was coming up from Mme de Chezelles's country house tomorrow morning. Yet nothing, in fact, could have prevented her from returning to Paris the night before and passing it with that man. He now began recalling to mind certain details of their stay at Les Fondettes. One evening, for instance, he had surprised Sabine in the shade of some trees, when she was so much agitated as to be unable to answer his questions. The man had been present; why should she not be with him now? The more he thought about it the more possible the whole story became, and he ended by thinking it natural and even inevitable233. While he was in his shirt sleeves in the house of a harlot his wife was undressing in her lover's room. Nothing could be simpler or more logical! Reasoning in this way, he forced himself to keep cool. He felt as if there were a great downward movement in the direction of fleshly madness, a movement which, as it grew, was overcoming the whole world round about him. Warm images pursued him in imagination. A naked Nana suddenly evoked234 a naked Sabine. At this vision, which seemed to bring them together in shameless relationship and under the influence of the same lusts235, he literally236 stumbled, and in the road a cab nearly ran over him. Some women who had come out of a cafe jostled him amid loud laughter. Then a fit of weeping once more overcame him, despite all his efforts to the contrary, and, not wishing to shed tears in the presence of others, he plunged237 into a dark and empty street. It was the Rue Rossini, and along its silent length he wept like a child.
"It's over with us," he said in hollow tones. "There's nothing left us now, nothing left us now!"
He wept so violently that he had to lean up against a door as he buried his face in his wet hands. A noise of footsteps drove him away. He felt a shame and a fear which made him fly before people's faces with the restless step of a bird of darkness. When passers-by met him on the pavement he did his best to look and walk in a leisurely238 way, for he fancied they were reading his secret in the very swing of his shoulders. He had followed the Rue de la Grange Bateliere as far as the Rue du Faubourg Montmartre, where the brilliant lamplight surprised him, and he retraced239 his steps. For nearly an hour he traversed the district thus, choosing always the darkest corners. Doubtless there was some goal whither his steps were patiently, instinctively240, leading him through a labyrinth241 of endless turnings. At length he lifted his eyes up it a street corner. He had reached his destination, the point where the Rue Taitbout and the Rue de la Provence met. He had taken an hour amid his painful mental sufferings to arrive at a place he could have reached in five minutes. One morning a month ago he remembered going up to Fauchery's rooms to thank him for a notice of a ball at the Tuileries, in which the journalist had mentioned him. The flat was between the ground floor and the first story and had a row of small square windows which were half hidden by the colossal242 signboard belonging to a shop. The last window on the left was bisected by a brilliant band of lamplight coming from between the half-closed curtains. And he remained absorbed and expectant, with his gaze fixed on this shining streak243.
The moon had disappeared in an inky sky, whence an icy drizzle244 was falling. Two o'clock struck at the Trinite. The Rue de Provence and the Rue Taitbout lay in shadow, bestarred at intervals245 by bright splashes of light from the gas lamps, which in the distance were merged114 in yellow mist. Muffat did not move from where he was standing. That was the room. He remembered it now: it had hangings of red "andrinople," and a Louis XIII bed stood at one end of it. The lamp must be standing on the chimney piece to the right. Without doubt they had gone to bed, for no shadows passed across the window, and the bright streak gleamed as motionless as the light of a night lamp. With his eyes still uplifted he began forming a plan; he would ring the bell, go upstairs despite the porter's remonstrances246, break the doors in with a push of his shoulder and fall upon them in the very bed without giving them time to unlace their arms. For one moment the thought that he had no weapon upon him gave him pause, but directly afterward he decided100 to throttle247 them. He returned to the consideration of his project, and he perfected it while waiting for some sign, some indication, which should bring certainty with it.
Had a woman's shadow only shown itself at that moment he would have rung. But the thought that perhaps he was deceiving himself froze him. How could he be certain? Doubts began to return. His wife could not be with that man. It was monstrous248 and impossible. Nevertheless, he stayed where he was and was gradually overcome by a species of torpor249 which merged into sheer feebleness while he waited long, and the fixity of his gaze induced hallucinations.
A shower was falling. Two policemen were approaching, and he was forced to leave the doorway where he had taken shelter. When these were lost to view in the Rue de Provence he returned to his post, wet and shivering. The luminous streak still traversed the window, and this time he was going away for good when a shadow crossed it. It moved so quickly that he thought he had deceived himself. But first one and then another black thing followed quickly after it, and there was a regular commotion250 in the room. Riveted251 anew to the pavement, he experienced an intolerable burning sensation in his inside as he waited to find out the meaning of it all. Outlines of arms and legs flitted after one another, and an enormous hand traveled about with the silhouette252 of a water jug253. He distinguished254 nothing clearly, but he thought he recognized a woman's headdress. And he disputed the point with himself; it might well have been Sabine's hair, only the neck did not seem sufficiently255 slim. At that hour of the night he had lost the power of recognition and of action. In this terrible agony of uncertainty256 his inside caused him such acute suffering that he pressed against the door in order to calm himself, shivering like a man in rags, as he did so. Then seeing that despite everything he could not turn his eyes away from the window, his anger changed into a fit of moralizing. He fancied himself a deputy; he was haranguing257 an assembly, loudly denouncing debauchery, prophesying259 national ruin. And he reconstructed Fauchery's article on the poisoned fly, and he came before the house and declared that morals such as these, which could only be paralleled in the days of the later Roman Empire, rendered society an impossibility; that did him good. But the shadows had meanwhile disappeared. Doubtless they had gone to bed again, and, still watching, he continued waiting where he was.
Three o'clock struck, then four, but he could not take his departure. When showers fell he buried himself in a corner of the doorway, his legs splashed with wet. Nobody passed by now, and occasionally his eyes would close, as though scorched261 by the streak of light, which he kept watching obstinately262, fixedly, with idiotic263 persistence264. On two subsequent occasions the shadows flitted about, repeating the same gestures and agitating265 the silhouette of the same gigantic jug, and twice quiet was re-established, and the night lamp again glowed discreetly266 out. These shadows only increased his uncertainty. Then, too, a sudden idea soothed267 his brain while it postponed268 the decisive moment. After all, he had only to wait for the woman when she left the house. He could quite easily recognize Sabine. Nothing could be simpler, and there would be no scandal, and he would be sure of things one way or the other. It was only necessary to stay where he was. Among all the confused feelings which had been agitating him he now merely felt a dull need of certain knowledge. But sheer weariness and vacancy269 began lulling270 him to sleep under his doorway, and by way of distraction271 he tried to reckon up how long he would have to wait. Sabine was to be at the station toward nine o'clock; that meant about four hours and a half more. He was very patient; he would even have been content not to move again, and he found a certain charm in fancying that his night vigil would last through eternity272.
Suddenly the streak of light was gone. This extremely simple event was to him an unforeseen catastrophe273, at once troublesome and disagreeable. Evidently they had just put the lamp out and were going to sleep. lt was reasonable enough at that hour, but he was irritated thereat, for now the darkened window ceased to interest him. He watched it for a quarter of an hour longer and then grew tired and, leaving the doorway, took a turn upon the pavement. Until five o'clock he walked to and fro, looking upward from time to time. The window seemed a dead thing, and now and then he asked himself if he had not dreamed that shadows had been dancing up there behind the panes274. An intolerable sense of fatigue275 weighed him down, a dull, heavy feeling, under the influence of which he forgot what he was waiting for at that particular street corner. He kept stumbling on the pavement and starting into wakefulness with the icy shudder276 of a man who does not know where he is. Nothing seemed to justify277 the painful anxiety he was inflicting278 on himself. Since those people were asleep--well then, let them sleep! What good could it do mixing in their affairs? It was very dark; no one would ever know anything about this night's doings. And with that every sentiment within him, down to curiosity itself, took flight before the longing to have done with it all and to find relief somewhere. The cold was increasing, and the street was becoming insufferable. Twice he walked away and slowly returned, dragging one foot behind the other, only to walk farther away next time. It was all over; nothing was left him now, and so he went down the whole length of the boulevard and did not return.
His was a melancholy progress through the streets. He walked slowly, never changing his pace and simply keeping along the walls of the houses.
His boot heels re-echoed, and he saw nothing but his shadow moving at his side. As he neared each successive gaslight it grew taller and immediately afterward diminished. But this lulled279 him and occupied him mechanically. He never knew afterward where he had been; it seemed as if he had dragged himself round and round in a circle for hours. One reminiscence only was very distinctly retained by him. Without his being able to explain how it came about he found himself with his face pressed close against the gate at the end of the Passage des Panoramas and his two hands grasping the bars. He did not shake them but, his whole heart swelling280 with emotion, he simply tried to look into the passage. But he could make nothing out clearly, for shadows flooded the whole length of the deserted gallery, and the wind, blowing hard down the Rue Saint-Marc, puffed281 in his face with the damp breath of a cellar. For a time he tried doggedly282 to see into the place, and then, awakening from his dream, he was filled with astonishment283 and asked himself what he could possibly be seeking for at that hour and in that position, for he had pressed against the railings so fiercely that they had left their mark on his face. Then he went on tramp once more. He was hopeless, and his heart was full of infinite sorrow, for he felt, amid all those shadows, that he was evermore betrayed and alone.
Day broke at last. It was the murky284 dawn that follows winter nights and looks so melancholy from muddy Paris pavements. Muffat had returned into the wide streets, which were then in course of construction on either side of the new opera house. Soaked by the rain and cut up by cart wheels, the chalky soil had become a lake of liquid mire285. But he never looked to see where he was stepping and walked on and on, slipping and regaining286 his footing as he went. The awakening of Paris, with its gangs of sweepers and early workmen trooping to their destinations, added to his troubles as day brightened. People stared at him in surprise as he went by with scared look and soaked hat and muddy clothes. For a long while he sought refuge against palings and among scaffoldings, his desolate287 brain haunted by the single remaining thought that he was very miserable288.
Then he thought of God. The sudden idea of divine help, of superhuman consolation289, surprised him, as though it were something unforeseen and extraordinary. The image of M. Venot was evoked thereby290, and he saw his little plump face and ruined teeth. Assuredly M. Venot, whom for months he had been avoiding and thereby rendering291 miserable, would be delighted were he to go and knock at his door and fall weeping into his arms. In the old days God had been always so merciful toward him. At the least sorrow, the slightest obstacle on the path of life, he had been wont to enter a church, where, kneeling down, he would humble292 his littleness in the presence of Omnipotence293. And he had been used to go forth294 thence, fortified295 by prayer, fully199 prepared to give up the good things of this world, possessed by the single yearning296 for eternal salvation297. But at present he only practiced by fits and starts, when the terror of hell came upon him. All kinds of weak inclinations298 had overcome him, and the thought of Nana disturbed his devotions. And now the thought of God astonished him. Why had he not thought of God before, in the hour of that terrible agony when his feeble humanity was breaking up in ruin?
Meanwhile with slow and painful steps he sought for a church. But he had lost his bearings; the early hour had changed the face of the streets. Soon, however, as he turned the corner of the Rue de la Chaussee-d'Antin, he noticed a tower looming299 vaguely in the fog at the end of the Trinite Church. The white statues overlooking the bare garden seemed like so many chilly300 Venuses among the yellow foliage301 of a park. Under the porch he stood and panted a little, for the ascent302 of the wide steps had tired him. Then he went in. The church was very cold, for its heating apparatus303 had been fireless since the previous evening, and its lofty, vaulted304 aisles305 were full of a fine damp vapor306 which had come filtering through the windows. The aisles were deep in shadow; not a soul was in the church, and the only sound audible amid the unlovely darkness was that made by the old shoes of some verger or other who was dragging himself about in sulky semiwakefulness. Muffat, however, after knocking forlornly against an untidy collection of chairs, sank on his knees with bursting heart and propped himself against the rails in front of a little chapel307 close by a font. He clasped his hands and began searching within himself for suitable prayers, while his whole being yearned308 toward a transport. But only his lips kept stammering309 empty words; his heart and brain were far away, and with them he returned to the outer world and began his long, unresting march through the streets, as though lashed260 forward by implacable necessity. And he kept repeating, "O my God, come to my assistance! O my God, abandon not Thy creature, who delivers himself up to Thy justice! O my God, I adore Thee: Thou wilt310 not leave me to perish under the buffetings of mine enemies!" Nothing answered: the shadows and the cold weighed upon him, and the noise of the old shoes continued in the distance and prevented him praying. Nothing, indeed, save that tiresome311 noise was audible in the deserted church, where the matutinal sweeping was unknown before the early masses had somewhat warmed the air of the place. After that he rose to his feet with the help of a chair, his knees cracking under him as he did so. God was not yet there. And why should he weep in M. Venot's arms? The man could do nothing.
And then mechanically he returned to Nana's house. Outside he slipped, and he felt the tears welling to his eyes again, but he was not angry with his lot--he was only feeble and ill. Yes, he was too tired; the rain had wet him too much; he was nipped with cold, but the idea of going back to his great dark house in the Rue Miromesnil froze his heart. The house door at Nana's was not open as yet, and he had to wait till the porter made his appearance. He smiled as he went upstairs, for he already felt penetrated312 by the soft warmth of that cozy313 retreat, where he would be able to stretch his limbs and go to sleep.
When Zoe opened the door to him she gave a start of most uneasy astonishment. Madame had been taken ill with an atrocious sick headache, and she hadn't closed her eyes all night. Still, she could quite go and see whether Madame had gone to sleep for good. And with that she slipped into the bedroom while he sank back into one of the armchairs in the drawing room. But almost at that very moment Nana appeared. She had jumped out of bed and had scarce had time to slip on a petticoat. Her feet were bare, her hair in wild disorder8, her nightgown all crumpled314.
"What! You here again?" she cried with a red flush on her cheeks.
Up she rushed, stung by sudden indignation, in order herself to thrust him out of doors. But when she saw him in such sorry plight--nay315, so utterly316 done for--she felt infinite pity.
"Well, you are a pretty sight, my dear fellow!" she continued more gently. "But what's the matter? You've spotted317 them, eh? And it's given you the hump?"
He did not answer; he looked like a broken-down animal. Nevertheless, she came to the conclusion that he still lacked proofs, and to hearten him up the said:
"You see now? I was on the wrong tack318. Your wife's an honest woman, on my word of honor! And now, my little friend, you must go home to bed. You want it badly."
He did not stir.
"Now then, be off! I can't keep you here. But perhaps you won't presume to stay at such a time as this?"
"Yes, let's go to bed," he stammered.
She repressed a violent gesture, for her patience was deserting her. Was the man going crazy?
"Come, be off!" she repeated.
"No."
But she flared319 up in exasperation320, in utter rebellion.
"It's sickening! Don't you understand I'm jolly tired of your company? Go and find your wife, who's making a cuckold of you. Yes, she's making a cuckold of you. I say so--yes, I do now. There, you've got the sack! Will you leave me or will you not?"
Muffat's eyes filled with tears. He clasped his hands together.
"Oh, let's go to bed!"
At this Nana suddenly lost all control over herself and was choked by nervous sobs321. She was being taken advaatage of when all was said and done! What had these stories to do with her? She certainly had used all manner of delicate methods in order to teach him his lesson gently. And now he was for making her pay the damages! No, hank you! She was kindhearted, but not to that extent.
"The devil, but I've had enough of this!" she swore, bringing her fist down on the furniture. "Yes, yes, I wanted to be faithful--it was all I could do to be that! Yet if I spoke the word I could be rich tomorrow, my dear fellow!"
He looked up in surprise. Never once had he thought of the monetary322 question. If she only expressed a desire he would realize it at once; his whole fortune was at her service.
"No, it's too late now," she replied furiously. "I like men who give without being asked. No, if you were to offer me a million for a single interview I should say no! It's over between us; I've got other fish to fry there! So be off or I shan't answer for the consequences. I shall do something dreadful!"
She advanced threateningly toward him, and while she was raving323, as became a good courtesan who, though driven to desperation, was yet firmly convinced of her rights and her superiority over tiresome, honest folks, the door opened suddenly and Steiner presented himself. That proved the finishing touch. She shrieked324 aloud:
"Well, I never. Here's the other one!"
Bewildered by her piercing outcry, Steiner stopped short. Muffat's unexpected presence annoyed him, for he feared an explanation and had been doing his best to avoid it these three months past. With blinking eyes he stood first on one leg, then on the other, looking embarrassed the while and avoiding the count's gaze. He was out of breath, and as became a man who had rushed across Paris with good news, only to find himself involved in unforeseen trouble, his face was flushed and distorted.
"Que veux-tu, toi?" asked Nana roughly, using the second person singular in open mockery of the count.
"What--what do I--" he stammered. "I've got it for you--you know what."
"Eh?"
He hesitated. The day before yesterday she had given him to understand that if he could not find her a thousand francs to pay a bill with she would not receive him any more. For two days he had been loafing about the town in quest of the money and had at last made the sum up that very morning.
"The thousand francs!" he ended by declaring as he drew an envelope from his pocket.
Nana had not remembered.
"The thousand francs!" she cried. "D'you think I'm begging alms?
Now look here, that's what I value your thousand francs at!"
And snatching the envelope, she threw it full in his face. As became a prudent325 Hebrew, he picked it up slowly and painfully and then looked at the young woman with a dull expression of face. Muffat and he exchanged a despairing glance, while she put her arms akimbo in order to shout more loudly than before.
"Come now, will you soon have done insulting me? I'm glad you've come, too, dear boy, because now you see the clearance'll be quite complete. Now then, gee216 up! Out you go!"
Then as they did not hurry in the least, for they were paralyzed:
"D'you mean to say I'm acting326 like a fool, eh? It's likely enough! But you've bored me too much! And, hang it all, I've had enough of swelldom! If I die of what I'm doing--well, it's my fancy!"
They sought to calm her; they begged her to listen to reason.
"Now then, once, twice, thrice! Won't you go? Very well! Look there! I've got company."
And with a brisk movement she flung wide the bedroom door. Whereupon in the middle of the tumbled bed the two men caught sight of Fontan. He had not expected to be shown off in this situation; nevertheless, he took things very easily, for he was used to sudden surprises on the stage. Indeed, after the first shock he even hit upon a grimace327 calculated to tide him honorably over his difficulty; he "turned rabbit," as he phrased it, and stuck out his lips and wrinkled up his nose, so as completely to transform the lower half of his face. His base, satyrlike head seemed to exude328 incontinence. It was this man Fontan then whom Nana had been to fetch at the Varieties every day for a week past, for she was smitten329 with that fierce sort of passion which the grimacing330 ugliness of a low comedian331 is wont to inspire in the genus courtesan.
"There!" she said, pointing him out with tragic332 gesture.
Muffat, who hitherto had pocketed everything, rebelled at this affront333.
"Bitch!" he stammered.
But Nana, who was once more in the bedroom, came back in order to have the last word.
"How am I a bitch? What about your wife?"
And she was off and, slamming the door with a bang, she noisily pushed to the bolt. Left alone, the two men gazed at one another in silence. Zoe had just come into the room, but she did not drive them out. Nay, she spoke to them in the most sensible manner. As became a woman with a head on her shoulders, she decided that Madame's conduct was rather too much of a good thing. But she defended her, nonetheless: this union with the play actor couldn't last; the madness must be allowed to pass off! The two men retired334 without uttering a sound. On the pavement outside they shook hands silently, as though swayed by a mutual335 sense of fraternity. Then they turned their backs on one another and went crawling off in opposite directions.
When at last Muffat entered his town house in the Rue Miromesnil his wife was just arriving. The two met on the great staircase, whose walls exhaled336 an icy chill. They lifted up their eyes and beheld337 one another. The count still wore his muddy clothes, and his pale, bewildered face betrayed the prodigal338 returning from his debauch258. The countess looked as though she were utterly fagged out by a night in the train. She was dropping with sleep, but her hair had been brushed anyhow, and her eyes were deeply sunken.
三个月后,十二月的一天夜晚,缪法伯爵漫步在全景胡同里。那天晚上,气温宜人,刚刚下了一阵暴雨,行人都到胡同里来避雨。那儿人满为患,店铺之间,行人拥挤不堪,形成一条长蛇阵,人们只能艰难地缓缓而行。白色的球形灯罩、红色的灯笼、蓝色的透明画、一排排脚灯、用灯管做成的巨大手表和扇子的模型发出一道道耀眼夺目的光芒,把玻璃橱窗照得通明。橱窗里的商品五颜六色,珠宝店的黄金制品,糖果店的水晶玻璃器皿,时装店的鲜艳丝绸,在反射镜的强光照射下,映在明洁的镜子里。在五光十色、杂乱无章的招牌中,远处有一个招牌清晰可见,上面的图案是一只紫红色的手套,酷似一只砍下来的手,血淋淋的,被拴在一只黄色的袖口上。
缪法伯爵慢悠悠地走到大街上,他向马路上望了一眼,然后又沿着店铺,慢慢走回来。湿热的空气在狭窄的胡同里凝结成明亮的水气。石板地被从雨伞上滴下来的水淋得湿漉漉的,只听见上面响着行人的脚步声,街上听不见一个人讲话。每当他与行人擦肩而过,行人都要对他打量一番,他的脸总是板着,被煤气灯照得灰白。于是,为了避开行人的好奇目光,缪法伯爵伫立在一家文具店门前,出神地欣赏玻璃橱窗里的玻璃球镇纸,球里浮现着山水和花草。
其实他什么也没有看见,他在想娜娜。她为什么再次说谎呢?早上,她给他写了一封信,叫他晚上别来打扰她,借口说小路易病了,她要到姑妈家过夜,以便照料他。可是伯爵起了疑心,他跑到娜娜那里,从门房那里知道娜娜到剧院去了。他对这件事感到诧异,因为她在新上演的戏中没有扮演角色。她为什么要说谎呢?今晚她在游艺剧院里干什么呢?
伯爵被一个行人挤了一下,但他并没有在意。他离开了镇纸橱窗,站到一个小摆设橱窗前面,全神贯注着里面陈列的笔记本和雪茄烟盒,这些东西的一个角上都印着一只蓝燕子的图案。毫无疑问,娜娜变了。她从乡下回来后的最初几天里,她几乎把他搞疯了,她吻遍他的脸,吻他的胡子,像母猫一样的温柔。她还向他发誓,说他是她最爱的小狗,她唯一钟爱的男人。他再也不担心乔治来了,因为乔治被他妈妈留在丰岱特庄园了。现在只剩下胖子斯泰内,伯爵想取他而代之,但他又不敢对他公开说出来。他知道,斯泰内在经济上重新陷入极度困境之中,在交易所里几乎破了产,现在便拼命抓住朗德盐场的股东们,竭力从他们身上榨取最后一笔钱。他每次在娜娜家碰见斯泰内时,娜娜总是用合乎情理的口气对他说,斯泰内为她花了那么多钱,她还不想把他像条狗一样赶出去。另外,三个月来,他生活在昏昏欲醉的性生活中,除了占有娜娜,他不再有别的什么明显需要。因为他的肉欲迟迟才觉醒,他像贪吃的儿童一样,心目中根本不存在虚荣和嫉妒。现在唯一的明显感觉令他震惊:娜娜不那么热情了,她不再吻他的胡子了。这使他忐忑不安。他思量着,他是一个不大了解女人的人,他究竟有什么地方不能满她的意。不过,他认为自己已经满足了她的所有欲望。他又想到早上那封信,想到她编造谎言把事情搞得复杂了,其实,她的目的很简单,只不过到剧院去过一夜。人群中又拥挤起来,他被挤到胡同对面,站在一家餐馆的门厅前面,苦苦思索着,眼睛瞅着一个橱窗里煺了毛的云雀和一条横放着的大鲑鱼。
最后他仿佛不再注意橱窗里的那些东西了。他振作起来,抬头一看,发觉快到九点钟了。娜娜马上就出来,他将要求她把真实想法说出来。接着他又踱起步来,他一边走,一边回忆起以往晚上到这里来接娜娜的情景。这里的每个店铺他都熟悉,在充满煤气味的空气中,他能辨别出每个店铺的气味,如俄罗斯皮革的浓重的气味,从巧克力店的地下室里飘上来的香草味,从化妆品店的敞开的大门里散发出来的麝香味。柜台里脸色苍白的女店员似乎都认识他,时常静静地盯着他看,所以他不敢在她们面前停留。有一阵子,他似乎在研究商店上面的一排小圆窗户,好像在杂乱无章的招牌中,第一次看见那一排小圆窗户。随后,他又一次走到大街上,在那儿站了一会儿。雨已变成了毛毛细雨,落在他的手上,他感到凉冰冰的,这时他才镇静下来。现在,他想到了他的妻子,她住在马孔附近的一座古堡里,她的女友德·谢泽勒夫人也住在古堡里,从秋天起,她病得很厉害;马路上的马车,像在泥泞般的河道中间行驶,这样的鬼天气,在乡下就糟糕了。这时,他突然不安起来,他再次回到闷热的胡同里,他在人群中大步流星地走着,因为他忽然想到,如果娜娜戒备他,她可能会从蒙马特长廊那边溜走。
从那时候起,伯爵就跑到剧院门口窥伺着。他不愿在胡同口等候,生怕有人认出他来。这里是游艺剧院的走廊和圣马克走廊的交汇处,光线暗淡,店铺里黑洞洞的,有一家无顾客光顾的鞋店,几家家具上积满灰尘的家具店,还有一间烟雾腾腾的令人昏昏欲睡的阅览室,晚上,罩在灯罩里的灯发出绿色的光亮;那里是演员、醉酒的置景工人和衣衫褴褛的群众演员的进口处,只有衣著齐整、耐心十足的先生们在那里游荡。在剧院前面,只有一盏灯罩粗糙的煤气灯照亮着大门。有一阵子,缪法想去问一下布龙太太,接着又担心起来,怕娜娜听到风声,从马路那边溜走。他又踱着步子,决心一直等到关栅栏门时,人家把他赶走为止,这样的事他已经历过两次了。一想到回去孤寂一人上床睡觉,不禁心中凄凄然。每当有不戴帽子的姑娘和衣衫肮脏的男人走出来,上下打量着他时,他便回到阅览室前面,伫立在那儿,从贴在玻璃窗上的两张广告中间向里面张望,映入他眼帘的还是同样景象:一个小老头子独自一人僵直地坐在一张硕大无朋的桌子边,在绿色的灯光下,用绿色的双手捧着一张绿色的报纸阅读着。但是,在十点还缺几分钟的时候,来了另一位先生,他高高的个儿,相貌标致,一头金发,戴着一副不大不小的手套,他也在剧院门口徘徊着。他们两人每次相遇时,都用怀疑的神色斜着眼看对方一下。伯爵一直走到两条走廊的交汇处,那儿有一面高大的镜子;他对着镜子,发觉自己表情严肃,举止得体,顿时产生羞愧、恐惧之感。
十点钟敲响了。缪法忽然想到,要知道娜娜在不在她的化妆室里,是件很容易的事。他越过三级台阶,穿越粉刷成黄色的小前厅,而后从一道只上了插销的门那儿潜入院子里。这时候,狭窄的院子很潮湿,乍看上去像一口井的井底,周围是臭气熏人的厕所,水龙头,厨房的炉灶,还有女门房胡乱堆放在那里的草木。这一切统统笼罩在黑色烟雾之中;然而,开在两堵墙上的各扇窗户里面却灯火辉煌。楼下是存放道具的仓库和消防处,左边是办公室;右边和楼上是演员化妆室。那一扇扇窗户酷似井壁上的朝向黑暗中的一张张张开的炉口。伯爵马上看见了二楼上娜娜的化妆室里亮着灯火;于是,他如释重负,喜出望外,两眼仰望天空,这座巴黎的百年老屋后面的污泥,飘散着臭味的空气,他都忘记了。大滴大滴的水珠从水管的裂缝中滴下来。一道煤气灯的灯光从布龙太太的窗子里射进来,把一段长了苔藓的路面、一段被厨房的排水沟的污水侵蚀了的墙根及整个堆满了垃圾的角落映成了黄色,垃圾中有旧水桶和破坛碎罐,一口破锅内竟然长出了一棵瘦小的卫矛。
伯爵听见开插销的声音,连忙退了出来。
娜娜肯定就要下楼了。他又回到阅览室前面;在一盏夜明灯的昏暗灯光下,老头子一动也没有动,他的侧影的一部分映在报纸上。接着,他又踱步了。现在,他往远处走走,他越过大走廊,沿着游艺剧院的走廊一直走到费多走廊,这条走廊上很冷,阒无一人,隐没在凄凄黑暗之中;然后他往回走,经过剧院门口,绕过圣马克走廊,壮着胆量一直走到蒙马特走廊那里,那儿有一家杂货店,里面的切糖机把他吸引住了。但是,他转到第三个来回时,他突然担心娜娜从他的背后溜走,这使他抛弃了一切人类尊严。他便和那位金发先生木立在剧院门口,两个人交换了一下友好、忍辱的目光,目光里还流露出一点不信任的神色,因为他们都怀疑对方可能是自己的情敌。幕间休息时,一些置景工出来抽烟斗,把他俩撞了一下,谁也不敢吱声,三个披头散发、身着脏裙子的高个子姑娘来到门口,啃着苹果,把果核随地乱吐;他们耷拉着脑袋,忍受着她们放肆无礼的目光和粗俗不堪的话语的侮辱,他们被这些臭娘儿们溅污、弄脏了衣服,她们故意挤到他们身上,推推搡搡,还觉得这样做挺有趣呢。
正在这时,娜娜下了三级台阶。她瞥见缪法时,顿时脸色变得煞白。
“啊!原来是你。”她期期艾艾地说道。
正在冷笑的几个女群众演员认出是娜娜,顿时害怕起来,便站成一行,表情呆板而严肃,像一群正在做坏事的女仆被女主人撞见似的。那个高个子金发先生站到一旁,这时他才放了心,但心里仍怀几分忧虑。
“好吧,挽住我的胳膊吧。”娜娜不耐烦地说道。
他们慢悠悠地走了。伯爵本来想好一些问题要问娜娜的,这时候却一句话也说不出来。倒是娜娜滔滔不绝地编造了一段话:八点钟时,她还在她姑妈家里,后来她看小路易的病好多了,于是,她就想到剧院里来看看。
“你到剧院有什么重要事情?”他问道。
“有重要事情,剧院要演一出新戏,”她迟疑了一会儿,回答道,“大家想听听我的意见。”
他心里明白她在撒谎。但是她的胳膊紧紧地挽住他的胳膊,一种温暖的感觉使他浑身酥软了。他长时间等候她,心里积了一股怒火和怨气,这时都消失了,现在他已把她抓在手里,他心里唯一的想法是把她留在自己身边。第二天,他将尽力去了解一下她为什么到化妆室来。娜娜一直在迟疑不决,明显看出她的内心很痛苦,她在进行剧烈的思想斗争,她竭力使自己平静下来,并打定主意,她在游艺剧院走廊的拐弯处停下来,站在一家扇子店的橱窗前。
“瞧!这把扇子镶着珍珠贝,又饰有羽毛,真漂亮。”
接着,她又用冷漠的口气说道:
“那么,你陪我回家喽?”
“当然罗,”他惊奇地说道,“因为你孩子的病好多了。”
她现在后悔不该撒谎。也许小路易的病又发作了;她说她要回巴蒂尼奥勒看看。但是,因为他自愿同她一道去,她就不再坚持去了。有一阵子,她的脸都气白了,因为她觉得自己被他缠住了,还要表现出一副温顺的样子。忍到最后,决心争取时间尽快摆脱他,只要在午夜之前摆脱伯爵,一切就会按照她的意愿安排。
“真的,今晚你要当单身汉了,”她低声说道,“你的老婆明天早上才回来,是吗?”
“对。”缪法回答,他听见娜娜随便谈到伯爵夫人,心里有点不自在。
但是娜娜又追问下去,问火车几点钟到达,她还想知道他是否到车站去接她。她又放慢了脚步,好像被这里的店铺吸引住了。
“你瞧!”她又停在一家珠宝店前面,说道:“这手镯真好玩!”
她很喜欢全景胡同。这种感情是从她少年时代起就有的,她喜欢巴黎的假货,假珠宝,镀金的锌制品,用硬纸板做成的假皮革。现在,每当她经过一个店铺前面时,她总舍不得离开店铺的橱窗。就像过去一样,那时她是一个小女孩,拖着旧拖鞋,站在巧克力店的糖果柜台前,出神地看着,或听隔壁一家店里弹风琴的声音,特别吸引她的是那些价格便宜的小玩艺儿,如核桃壳针线盒,放牙签的小篓子,圆柱形或方碑形寒暑表。但是,那天晚上,她心绪不宁,看什么都心不在焉。她不能自由行动,这使她苦不堪言;在她内心的隐约反感中,燃起一阵怒火,她真想干出一件傻事来。与举止大度的男人相好就不愁没钱花!她以孩子般的任性已经把王子和斯泰内的钱财花得精光,她却不知道钱花到何处去了。她在奥斯曼大街上的那套住宅里的家具还不全;只有客厅的家具全都罩上了红缎子,由于装饰得太过分,家具摆得太满,厅内显得很不协调。然而现在她没有钱的时候,债主向她逼债比过去任何时候都紧;这一直使她觉得奇怪,因为她一向自诩为节约的典范。一个月以来,她常常威胁斯泰内这个牟取暴利的投机家,说如果他拿不出一千法郎给她,她就要把他赶出门,斯泰内总算花了九牛二虎之力,才搞来一千法郎。至于缪法,他是个傻瓜,他根本不知道该拿什么东西出来,因此她也不能责怪他小气。啊!如果她不是每天把循规蹈矩的格言念上许多遍的话,她就会把这些人统统赶走!佐爱每天早上都说,做人要通情达理,她自己头脑中也经常出现一个具有宗教色彩的回忆,也就是夏蒙那样富丽堂皇的景象,由于她的不断回忆,这种景象变得壮观了。所以,她尽管气得发抖,却仍然抑制住怒火,挽着伯爵的胳膊,在越来越少的行人中间,一个橱窗挨着一个橱窗看过去。外边的路面已经干了,沿着走廊吹来的一股凉风,驱散了玻璃天棚下的热气,把五颜六色的灯笼,一排排煤气灯和像烟火一样光辉夺目的巨型扇子吹得摇摇晃晃。在餐馆门口,一个侍者正在关灯,而在已无顾客、灯光如昼的店铺里,女售货员仍然一动不动,似乎睁着眼睛睡着了。
“啊!这真可爱!”娜娜走到最后一家店铺,又回头走了几步,对着一只素瓷猎兔狗赞叹道,猎兔狗抬着一条腿,准备扑向前面的隐没在玫瑰丛中的野兔窝。
他们终于离开了胡同,娜娜不想坐马车。她说天气很好,而且也没有什么急事,这样步行回家倒挺惬意的。随后,他们到达英格兰咖啡馆前,她想吃点东西,她说她想吃牡蛎,说因为小路易生病,她从早上到现在没有吃一点东西,缪法不敢违抗她的意愿。到目前为止,他还没有在公开场所与她在一起,于是他要了一个单间,匆匆忙忙沿着走廊向里面走去。娜娜跟在他后面,看样子对这家咖啡馆很熟悉。单间的侍者拉着门,他们正要进去时,隔壁客厅里响起一阵震耳欲聋的笑声和叫喊声,一个男人突然走出来,他是达盖内。
“瞧!原来是娜娜!”他嚷道。
伯爵一溜烟地进了单间,门半开着。当他的圆圆的背部进去时,达盖内眨眨眼睛,用开玩笑的口吻说道:
“真见鬼!你的日子过得不错嘛,现在你到杜伊勒里宫去找男人了!”
娜娜嫣然一笑,把一个手指放在嘴唇上,示意他住嘴。她觉得他话太多,不过,在那里碰见他,她还是挺高兴的。尽管他行径卑劣,与一些正派女人在一起时,装着不认识她,但在她的心目中,对他仍然怀有一点柔情。
“你现在怎样?”她亲切地问道。
“我想结束我的单身汉生活。说实话,我很想结婚。”
她用同情的神态耸耸肩膀。但是他用开玩笑的口气继续说,他在交易所赚的钱,只够给女人买点鲜花,这样保持一个正派单身汉的名声,这简直不是一种生活。他的三十万法郎只维持了十八个月。他想还是要实际一点,像他父亲一样,娶一个带来一大笔嫁妆的妻子,最后当省长结束一生。娜娜总是笑咪咪的,一点不相信他的话,她用头指指他的房间,问道:
“你和谁在那里面?”
“哦!和一大帮人在那里,”他说道,一阵醉意上来,他把他的计划忘得一干二净,“你想象得到吧,莱娅正在讲她在埃及的旅行见闻呢,真有趣,她还讲了一个洗澡的故事……”
于是,他把这个故事转述了一遍。娜娜呆在那儿,听得很高兴。最后他们倚在长廊上,面对面地交谈了。煤气灯在低矮的天花板下燃着,墙饰的皱褶里滞留着隐隐约约的菜肴气味。餐室里的嘈杂声不时变大,他们不得不把脸凑近一些,以便彼此听得清楚一些。每隔二十秒钟,就有一个侍者端着盘子走过,看见走廊堵住了,就请他们让一下。但是,他们并未因此而中断谈话,只是朝安静的墙边贴紧一点,他们不顾吃夜宵者的吵吵嚷嚷和侍者的挤挤撞撞,像在家里一样谈话。
“你瞧!”达盖内喃喃说道,一边用手指一下缪法进去的那间小房间的门。
两个人看了那扇门一眼。门在微微颤抖着,似乎被一股风吹动着。最后,门慢慢地关上了,没有发出一点声音。两个人不出声地相互笑了笑。伯爵一个人呆在里面,那副样子大概是挺好看的。
“好了,”她问道,“你读过福什利写的关于我的那篇文章没有?”
“读过了,题目叫《金色苍蝇》,”达盖内回答说,“我没有跟你谈这篇文章,怕你难过。”
“难过,为什么?他的文章很长。”
她很得意,写她的那篇文章,竟然登在《费加罗报》上。她的理发师弗朗西斯给她带来了一份《费加罗报》,若不是他给她作解释,她还不知道那篇文章写的就是她呢。达盖内一边偷偷地瞅着她,一边用揶揄的神态嘲笑她。总之,她本人对这篇文章很满意,所以别人也该满意了。
“对不起!”一个侍者手里端着一盘冰淇淋,一边说着,一边把他们分开。
娜娜朝那间小房间走了一步,缪法在那儿等她。
“好了,再见了,”达盖内说道,“去找你的那个王八吧。”
娜娜又停下脚步。
“你为什么叫他王八呢?”
“他是个王八,这还用问!”
她又回来倚靠在墙上,对这个叫法颇感兴趣。
“啊!”她只简单地应了一声。
“怎么,这个你还不知道!他的老婆同福什利睡觉,我亲爱的……大概在乡下时就开始了……刚才我一到这里,福什利就走了,我估计今天晚上他们一准在他家里约会。他们说她外出旅行,我想是撒谎。”
娜娜听后,激动得说不出话来。
“我早料到了!”她终于开口了,一边拍着大腿,“有一次,我在路上遇见她,一看她那副样子,我就猜到了。竟然有这样的事情,一个正经女人欺骗丈夫,同福什利这样的色鬼睡觉!
这回他肯定要把自己的经验教给她。”
“啊!”达盖内不怀好意地低声说道,“这对她来说,已经不是第一次尝试了,说不定她知道的不比他少。”
娜娜听了,气愤得叫起来。
“真是这样……这是什么样的世界啊!真是太肮脏了!”
“对不起!”一个手里拿着瓶子的侍者嚷道,一边叫他们让路。
达盖内把她拉到自己身边,把她的手拉住一会儿。接着,他用清脆的嗓音对他讲话,那嗓音犹如口琴吹奏的声音,他把女人搞到手全靠这样的嗓音:
“再见了,亲爱的……你知道,我永远爱你。”
她把手抽回来,脸上挂着微笑,从餐室里发出来的雷鸣般的叫喊声和欢呼声把她的讲话声淹没了,简直连房间都震动起来。
“你真傻,我们的关系已经结束了……但是这没关系,最近几天你来吧,咱们聊一聊。”
随后,她又变得严肃起来,用良家女那种愤怒的口气说道:
“啊!他是王八……那么,亲爱的,这就讨厌了,我呀,我一直讨厌王八。”
她终于走进单间,看见缪法坐在一张狭窄的沙发上,一副听天由命的样子,脸色苍白,两手颤抖。他丝毫没有责备她。娜娜心里很激动,她觉得他既可怜又可恶,这个可怜的男人,竟受到一个下流老婆如此卑鄙的欺骗!她真想扑上去搂住他的脖子安慰他。但是,这对他来说,仍然是公平的,因为他在女人面前总是傻乎乎的;这件事也该给他一个教训吧。然而,在她心目中,对他的怜悯还是主要的。吃过牡蛎后,她并未像她原来计划的那样放他走,而是把他留下来。他们在英格兰咖啡馆逗留了一刻钟,而后两人一起回到了奥斯曼大街。这时已是十一点钟了,在午夜前,她可以想出一个婉转的方法把他打发走。
为了谨慎起见,她在候见厅里吩咐佐爱道:
“你要注意一点,如果他来时发现另一个男人和我在一起,叫他别作声。”
“可是我让他呆在哪儿呢,太太?”
“让他呆在厨房里,那里比较安全。”
缪法进卧室后就脱掉了礼服。壁炉里燃着旺火。这间卧室还是原来的样子,家具全是红木的,壁毯和椅套都是灰底大蓝花的织绵。娜娜曾经两次想把房间重新布置一下,第一次想把它们都换成黑丝绒,第二次想换成带粉红色结子的白缎子。每当斯泰内答应后,她就按照所需费用向他要钱,但是钱一到手,她就把钱花光。她只有一次心血来潮时,买了一张虎皮铺在壁炉前,又买了一盏水晶吊灯挂在天花板上。
“我还不困,我不想睡觉。”他们把门关上后,娜娜说道。
伯爵像个乖顺的男人依了她,他再也不怕被人看见了。他现在唯一的想法是不要惹她生气。
“睡不睡随你的便。”他悄声说道。
然而,他在火炉前坐下来之前,替她脱掉了她的高帮皮鞋。娜娜有一种乐趣,就是对着衣橱上的镜子脱衣服,然后站在镜子前自我欣赏一番。她连衬衫也脱掉,然后,全身一丝不挂,久久地看着自己,忘记了一切。她很迷恋自己的肉体,对她软缎般的肌肤和线条柔软的腰身自我陶醉,这使她庄重严肃,全神贯注,沉浸在一种自爱之中。她经常这样被理发师撞见,但是她连头也不掉。缪法见到这种情况就生气,而她对他生气感到奇怪,缪法怎么啦?她这个样子不是让别人看的,而是让自己看的。
那天晚上,她为了尽情自我欣赏一番,把枝形烛台上的六枝蜡烛都点燃了。但是,她刚要脱下衬衫时,却停了下来,若有所思一会儿,有一个问题已经到了嘴边。
“你没有读《费加罗报》上的那篇文章吗?……报纸在桌子上。”
她回忆起达盖内的冷笑,一个疑团缠绕着她。如果这个福什利诽谤她,她要对他进行报复。
“有人认为文章里写的是我,”她说道,装成若无其事的样子,“嗯?亲爱的,你是怎么想的?”
她松开手,让衬衫落下来,等待缪法读完文章。她现在赤身裸体地站在那里。缪法读得很慢。福什利的那篇文章题目是《金色苍蝇》,写的是一个年轻姑娘,出生在一个四五代都是酒鬼的家庭,贫困和酗酒经过世代长期遗传,败坏了她的血液,在她身上演变成女性的神经失调。她出生在郊区,在巴黎街头长大,她个儿高大,花容月貌,肌肤细嫩,犹如一棵生长在粪土上的植物。她出自乞丐和被抛弃的人的阶层,她要为他们报仇。她把在平民百姓中发酵的腐烂物带到上层社会,腐蚀着贵族阶层。她变成了自然界中的一种力量,一种起破坏作用的酵素,这种作用虽然不是出自她自己的愿望,却使巴黎在她的两条白皙的大腿中间堕落、解体。她使巴黎翻转,犹如家庭主妇每个月搅拌牛奶一样。到了文章的结尾,作者才把她比作苍蝇,一只从垃圾堆里飞出来的金色的苍蝇,一只叮在被扔在路旁的尸体上的苍蝇,它嗡嗡叫着,飞舞着,像宝石一样闪闪发光,它从窗户飞进一座座宫殿,只要落在男人身上,就能把男人毒死。
缪法抬起头来,目不转睛地瞅着炉火。
“怎么样?”娜娜问道。
然而他没有回答。他似乎想再读一遍那篇文章。一种寒冷的感觉从他的头部一直传到肩膀,这篇文章写得很草率,句子之间的意思不连贯,措辞极度夸张,所用比喻稀奇古怪。不过,文章还是使他震惊,他读了这篇文章,几个月来他一点不想思考的事情,突然又出现在他的脑海中。
这时候,他抬起眼睛。娜娜陶醉在自我欣赏之中。她转动着脖子,对着镜子端详着右腰上部的一颗棕色小痣;然后她用指头摸了它一下,她把身子往后再仰一些,那颗痣便突出来,她大概觉得这颗痣长在这个部位既古怪又漂亮。然后,她又研究自己身体的其它部位,她觉得很有趣,那种孩提时代的邪恶的好奇心又在她身上复活了。她看见自己的身体,总是产生一种惊异之感;她像一个姑娘发现自己发育那样既惊奇而又着迷。她慢慢地伸开两只臂膀,展现她那丰腴的爱神的上身,她弯下腰,打量自己的背面和前面,目光停在乳房的侧影上,注视着由粗到细的大腿,最后竟古怪地扭动起来,双膝分开,左右摇摆,腰肢上部扭动着,像埃及舞女跳肚皮舞那样不停地颤动着。
缪法全神贯注地看着她。她令他恐惧。报纸从他的手中落下来,这时他恍然大悟了,于是他蔑视自己了,确实是这样,在三个月时间里,娜娜腐蚀了他的生活,他感到自己被脏东西腐蚀到了骨髓,而这些东西他简直不曾怀疑过。现在,他身上的一切都快要腐烂。他顿时意识到这种邪恶所产生的危害,他看到了这种酵素所引起的解体作用,它毒害了他,他的家庭被破坏了,社会的一个角落发出哗啦一声响,接着崩塌下来。他无法把视线从娜娜身上移开,他一直盯着她看,竭力想让自己对她的裸体痛恨起来。
娜娜现在不再扭动了。她用一只胳膊撑住后颈,一只手钩住另一只手,仰着头,两肘分开。缪法瞅了一眼她那半闭的眼睛、她那半张的嘴巴和堆满柔情微笑的面孔,脑后的金色发髻散开了,像母狮的鬃毛披在背上。她挺着胸脯,胁部绷得紧紧的,显示了她那女战士般的结实腰肢和硬挺挺的乳房,在软缎般的皮肤下面,这两处肌肉健美而发达。一条柔美的线条从一个胳膊肘一直延伸到脚上,只有肩膀和臀部稍有波峰。缪法注视着这个如此动人的侧面像,注视着她的金黄色的肉体淹没在金色光线中,注视着烛光下像丝绸一样闪闪发光的丰满的乳房。他想到自己过去对女人怀有的恐惧,想到了《圣经》中所描写的怪兽,这只怪兽淫荡而又臊臭。娜娜浑身毛茸茸的,橙黄色的汗毛使她的整个躯体变成了丝绒。而在她那良种母马般的臀部和大腿上,在她富有肉感、有深深褶缝的隆起的肌肉上,蒙罩着一种令人动心的女性的阴影,兽性就隐藏在那里。她是一头金色的怪兽,她没有意识到自己的力量,仅仅身上的气味就足以使世界腐烂。缪法一直瞅着她,像着了迷、被魔鬼附身似的,他合上眼皮,不想再看时,那个怪兽又出现在黑暗的深处,而且变得更大,更可怕,姿态更加迷人。现在,这只怪兽将永远出现在他的眼前,永远留在他的肉体中。
娜娜蜷缩起身子。因为动情,四肢似乎战栗了一下。两眼湿润了,她把身子蜷得很小,这样似乎可以更好地闻闻自己。接着,她把钩紧的双手松开,手顺着自己的身体往下移动,一直移动到乳房上,随后拼命地捏紧乳房。她挺起胸脯,抚摸全身,这时她浑身酥软了,她温存地轻轻地摩擦着面颊,她用面颊时而轻轻摩擦右肩,时而轻轻摩擦左肩。她的淫荡的嘴巴向自己身上吹着欲火。她伸长嘴唇,在腋窝旁吻了好久,对着镜子中的娜娜笑着,另一个娜娜也在镜子里吻着自己。
这时候,缪法懒洋洋地长长叹了一口气。他对娜娜的自我行乐非常恼怒。突然间,他内心的种种想法消失了,像被一阵狂风刮得无影无踪似的。他猛冲上去,一把搂住娜娜,把她摔倒在地毯上。
“放开我,”她大声叫道,“你把我弄得好疼啊!”
他觉得自己失败了,尽管知道娜娜是个愚蠢、淫荡、说谎的女人,但是他仍然想占有她,即使她满身沾有毒素。
“啊!你真蠢!”他放她站起来时,她怒气冲冲地说道。
然而,她平静下来了。现在,缪法该走了。她穿上一件镶花边的睡衣,在火炉前的地板上坐下来,这是她喜欢坐的地方。当她再一次问起福什利的那篇文章时,缪法很想避免一场风波,所以只含糊其词地回答她。她声称她也抓住了福什利的一个把柄。随后,她沉默了良久,她在考虑用什么方法把伯爵打发走。她想用友善的方法,因为她是一个善良女子,她觉得给别人制造痛苦,也给自己带来烦恼;何况他还是个戴绿帽子的人,想到这里,她的心软下来了。
“那么,”她终于开口了,“明天早上你等你的老婆回来?”
缪法深深地躺在扶手椅上,神色疲惫,四肢无力。他只点头作答。娜娜一边严肃地瞅着他,一边心里暗暗地思量着。她盘起一条大腿坐着,大腿把睡衣的花边压得微微起皱,她用两只手抓着一只光脚,无意识地转来转去。
“你结婚很久了吧?”她问道。
“十九年了。”伯爵回答道。
“啊!……你的老婆,她很可爱吧?你们很和睦吧?”
他沉默一会后,神态尴尬地说道:
“你是知道的,我已恳求过你永远不要谈这些事情。”
“哟!这是为什么?”她气乎乎地嚷道,“你的老婆嘛,只是随便说说而已,我绝不会吃掉她的……亲爱的,女人嘛,都是半斤八两……”
她说着停了下来,生怕言多必失。她只是摆出一副傲慢的样子,因为她觉得自己心地非常善良。这个可怜的男人,对他应当迁就些。她心里产生了一个愉快的念头,她笑嘻嘻地打量着他。她又说道:
“喂,我还没有告诉你福什利散布的有关你的谣言……他真是一条毒蛇!我不恨他,因为他的文章写得还是可以的;不过,他仍然是条毒蛇。”
她笑得更欢了,放下脚,拖着身子,走到伯爵身旁,把胸脯贴在他的膝盖上。
“你想想吧,他咬定你娶老婆后,还是个童男……嗯?你还是童男吗?……嗯?是真的?”
她用目光盯住他,等他回答。她把两只手伸到他的肩上,摇晃他,想从他嘴里掏出实话来。
“也许是吧。”他终于用严肃的口气说道。
娜娜听了,又一屁股坐在自己的脚上。她哈哈大笑起来,嘴里嘟嘟囔囔,拍了他几个巴掌。
“这不可能,这真滑稽可笑,只有你是这样子,你真是个怪人……可是,亲爱的小狗,你那时一定是个笨蛋!一个男人不知道这种事,真是大笑话!哎哟,我如果看到你那时的情景该多好呀!……当时情况好吧?说点给我听听,哦!我请你说一说。”
她又向他提了一大堆问题,什么都问,而且要求他讲出细枝末节。她突然哈哈大笑起来,她笑得真欢,笑得前仰后合,笑得上衣滑下,又被她撩起,皮肤被熊熊火光映成金黄色。结果伯爵便把他的新婚之夜的情况一点一点讲出来。他丝毫不觉得尴尬,最后自己也产生了兴致,便用得体的词语“他是怎样失去童贞的”来解释。他还有点害羞,所以说话时都是字斟句酌的。娜娜听得起劲了,又追问他伯爵夫人的情况。她有闭月羞花之貌,不过,用他的话来说,她是一个冷若冰霜的人。
“哦,得啦,”他怯懦地嘟哝道,“你不必吃醋了。”
娜娜不笑了。她又回到原来的位置,背朝着火炉,两手抱着双膝,下巴搁在膝盖上。接着,她一本正经地说道:“亲爱的,新婚之夜,在老婆面前傻头傻脑的,这样可不适当。”
“为什么?”伯爵惊讶地问道。
“这是因为……”她显出一本正经的样子,慢吞吞地说道。
她不停地点点头或摇摇头表示自己的看法。不过,她最后作了明确的解释。
“你知道,我呀,我知道这是怎么回事……嗯,我的小宝贝,女人可不喜欢男人傻头傻脑的。她们嘴上什么也不说,因为她们害羞,你知道……可以肯定,她们想得很多,迟早有一天,在人们不知不觉的时候,她们会到其他地方去想办法的……这就是我要说的,我的宝贝。”
他仿佛没有听懂她的话。于是,她把话又说得更明白一些。她像慈母一样,以朋友的身份,善意地给他上了这一课。自从她知道他戴绿帽子以来,这件事一直使她不安,她渴望与他谈一谈。
“我的上帝!我谈的事情其实与我本人无关……我说这些话的目的,是因为希望人人都幸福……我们是在聊天,是吗?
那么,你应当坦率地回答我的问题。”
说到这里,她停下来,想换个位置,因为她身上烤热了。
“嗯?太热了。我的背上烤焦了……等一下,我把肚子烤一烤……这样烤火可以治病!”
她转过身来,胸口对着炉火,两只脚压在大腿下面。
“喂,你不再和你老婆睡觉了吗?”
“对,这个我可以向你保证。”他怕娜娜找他麻烦,连忙说道。
“你以为她真的是一块木头吗?”
他点点头,作为肯定的回答。
“那么,是这个原因你才喜欢我的吗?……回答呀!我不会生气的。”
他又点点头。
“很好!”娜娜最后说道,“我已料到了。啊!你这个可怜的宝贝!……你认识我的姑妈勒拉太太吗?等她来了,你请她讲讲她家对面的那个水果商的故事吧……你想想这个水果商……他妈的!这火真热。我得转一下身子,我现在要烤烤左边。”
她把左侧朝向炉火时,在火光的照射下,她看见自己身上胖胖的,皮肤发红,非常高兴,觉得挺有趣的,便自己跟自己开起玩笑来。
“嗯?我像一只鹅……哦!是的,像一只烤叉上的鹅……
我转动着,我转动着。的确我是用原汁在烤我自己。”
她又哈哈笑起来,这时听见说话声和开门的响声。缪法吃了一惊,用询问的目光打量她一下。她又严肃起来,神色惴惴不安。她推托说那一定是佐爱的那只猫,这头该死的畜生什么都被它打碎。已经到了午夜十二点半了。这时候,她哪里还有心思来满足缪法这个王八的欲望?现在又来了一个男人,她必须赶快把缪法打发走。
“你刚才说什么?”伯爵殷勤地问道,他见她那副和蔼的样子,高兴极了。
由于娜娜急于把他打发走,她突然改变了态度,变得粗暴起来,说话也就不那么注意了。
“啊!对的,说到水果商和他的老婆……是啊!亲爱的,他们从来互相都不碰一下,根本不干这种事!……其实,她在这方面的欲望很强烈,你知道吗。而他呢,呆头呆脑的,一点也不知道,他还以为她的老婆是根木头,便到别处去寻花问柳,同一些婊子在一起鬼混,她们让他享受了种种下流的快乐,而他的老婆也去寻求同样的下流快乐,对象是比他的笨蛋丈夫机灵的小伙子……夫妻间互相不融洽,就会落到这样的结局。这方面我是很了解的。”
缪法脸色变得煞白。终于明白了她那一番转弯抹角的话的含义,他想叫她闭口不说。但是她的话匣子打开就收不住了。
“不,别打扰我说话!……如果你们不是没有教养的人,就会在你们老婆身边和在我们身边一样可爱;如果你们的老婆不是一些蠢货,就会费尽心机把你们拴住,就像我们费尽心机把你们勾引到手一样……这一切都是教养问题……我说的就是这些,我的小宝贝,好好记住我的话吧。”
“别谈那些正经女人了吧,”他语气生硬地说道,“你不了解她们。”
这时,娜娜一下子跳起来。
“我不了解她们!……你那些正经女人甚至连干净都谈不上!不,她们根本不干净!你未必找得出一个女人,敢像我这样子,身子脱得光光的让人看……说实话,你的那些所谓正经女人,只能叫我好笑!你不要把我逼得太厉害,不要逼得我说出我事后要后悔的话来。”
伯爵只低声骂了一声,没有回答她的话。娜娜脸色也一下子变白了。她一声不吭,瞧了他一会儿。然后,用清脆的声音说道:
“如果你的老婆让你当王八,你打算怎么办呢?”
他做出一个威胁的动作。
“那么,如果是我欺骗了你呢?”
“哦!你呀。”他耸耸肩膀,悄声说道。
确实,娜娜本来并没有恶意。开始谈话时,她就尽量克制住自己,不当面说他是王八。她本来只希望他把真实情况说出来。但是,到了后来,他把她惹怒了,她就只好把话直说了。
“那么,我的小宝贝,”她又说道,“我不知道你到我这里来是干什么的……你把我缠了两个钟头……还是回去找你的老婆吧,她正在和福什利干那种事呢。是的,一点也不错,他们在泰布街,就在普鲁旺斯街的拐角上,你看,我连地址都告诉你了。”
接着,她看见缪法像头部被猛击一槌的牛,摇摇晃晃地站起来,她得意洋洋地说道:
“如果正经女人插进来,抢走我们的情人!……说真话,那些正经女人,她们就够规矩的了!”
但是,还没等她把话说完,伯爵猛然一下把她直挺挺地摔倒在地上;接着抬起脚跟,想踩烂她的脑袋叫她闭嘴。好一会儿,她吓得魂不附体。他气得头晕目眩,像个疯子,在房间里胡乱走动。她见他气得一句话也说不出来,浑身发抖,不禁流下了眼泪。她后悔得要命。随后,她在火炉前蜷缩着身子,一边让火烤身子右边,一边安慰他。
“亲爱的,我向你发誓,我以为你是知道的,要不然,我是决不会说的……另外,这也许不是事实。我嘛,我并未去核实。这是人家告诉我的,外边有人在谈论;但是,这能算证据吗?啊!算了吧,你犯不着自寻烦恼了。我要是男人,我才瞧不起女人呢!你也知道,女人嘛!从上层到下层,全是一路货色:都是穷奢极欲的婊子。”
她大骂女人,竟然忘记自己也是女人,想以此减轻他所受的精神打击的痛苦。但是他根本不想听她的话,也没有听清她的话。他气得直跺脚,随后穿上高帮皮鞋和礼服。他又在房间里来回走了一会儿,然后,仿佛气到最后才找到了门,走了出去。娜娜非常恼火。
“好吧!一路顺风!”房间里虽然只剩她一个人,她仍然大声说道,“这个家伙还算是有礼貌,我同他讲话时,他一句话也不说!……我还一个劲儿去安慰他呢!是我先改变了态度,我还一再表示道歉,我觉得我是够客气了!……所以,是他在这里惹得我恼火。”
不过她的心里还是不高兴,她用两只手在腿上搔痒。但是,她拿定了主意……
“呸!去他的!他戴了绿帽子,这可不是我的过错!”
她把浑身都烤到了,觉得暖和和的,便一下子钻进被窝里,一边按铃,叫佐爱让等在厨房里的那个男人进来。
到了外面,缪法怒气冲冲地走着。刚刚下了一场暴雨,他走在泥泞的路上,一走一滑。他不由自主地抬起头来,凝望天空,只见团团乌云在急速掠过月亮,此时此刻,奥斯曼大街上的行人寥寥无几。他沿着歌剧院的工地,专选黑暗的地方走,嘴里嘟嘟哝哝说了一些前言不搭后语的话。这个婊子愚蠢而又狠毒,编造出这些谎言来骗他。刚才他的脚跟对准她的脑袋时,应该把它踩得粉碎。总之,他蒙受了奇耻大辱,他永远不来看她了,永远不来碰她一下子;否则,他就是孬种。这时他如释重负,大口大口地呼吸着。啊!这个赤身裸体的妖精,愚蠢得像只在烤着的鹅,竟然诽谤他四十年来所崇敬的一切!这时,遮住月亮的乌云散开了,大片银色的月光洒在阒无一人的街道上。他顿时感到恐惧,不禁呜咽起来。他很失望、惊慌,仿佛坠入无边无际的空虚之中。
“我的上帝!”他结巴道,“完了,一切都完了。”
他走过一条条林荫大道,晚归的行人大步流星地走着。他竭力让自己平静下来。那个婊子胡诌的事又开始浮现在他的热乎乎的头脑中,他真想逐一分析一下事情真实性的程度。要到明天早上伯爵夫人才从德·谢泽勒夫人的古堡里回来。事实上,她完全可能在昨天晚上就回到巴黎,在那个男人家过夜。他现在回顾起在丰岱特庄园居住时的某些细节。比如说那一天晚上,他在树下突然撞见萨比娜,她慌乱得连话都说不出来。那个男人当时也在那里。那么,难道现在她就不能在他家里吗?他越想越觉得娜娜说的事是很可能的。最后,他觉得这事是自然的,而且是必然会发生的。当他自己在一个婊子家里脱掉外衣时,他的老婆在一个情人的卧室里脱衣解带,这是最简单的、最合乎逻辑的事。他这样一边推理,一边竭力让自己冷静下来。他感觉到陷入疯狂的肉欲之中,这种感觉在他身上不断扩大,并蔓延到他周围,征服了他周围的人。这一幕幕情景接二连三地出现在他发热的头脑中。他脑海里浮现出赤身裸体的娜娜,突然间他又联想到赤身裸体的萨比娜。在这幻想之中,他把这两个女人相提并论,他们同样寡廉鲜耻,同样受淫欲的驱使,想着想着,他不禁打了一个踉跄,差点被行车道上驶来的一辆出租马车撞倒。从一家咖啡馆里出来的一些女人,嘻嘻哈哈用胳膊肘对他推推搡搡。这时,他忍不住内心的悲痛,流下了眼泪。他不愿在人面前呜呜咽咽,便钻进黑魆魆的阒无一人的罗西尼街中,沿着寂静的房子,一边走一边哭得像个孩子。
“完了,”他用低沉的声音说道,“一切都完了,一切都完了。”
他哭得非常伤心,不得不倚到一扇门上,他用手捂住面孔,泪水浸湿了他的手。这时他听见一阵脚步声,慌忙离开那里。他感到羞耻、恐惧,像夜游者一样,迈着慌张步伐,见人就溜,倘若人行道上有人遇见他,他就竭力装出一副轻松愉快的样子,担心别人看见他的肩膀抽动,猜出他干的丑事。他沿着格朗日棸屠锾乩镅墙肿撸恢弊叩礁2级麠蒙马特街。这条街上灯光如昼,他吓了一跳,连忙回过头来往回走。就这样,他在这一带走街穿巷,专挑光线最暗淡的地方走,他走了差不多一个钟头。看样子他是朝着一个目的地走去,因为他经过的路拐弯很多,非常难走,他走得从容不迫,每到拐弯处,他的脚步都自动转弯。他终于走到一条街的拐弯处,他抬起头来一看,发觉自己到了目的地。这里是泰布街和普鲁旺斯街的交接处。他本来只要用五分钟就可以到达,但由于他头昏脑胀,却走了一个小时。他记得上个月的一天早上,他曾来过福什利家,感谢他写了一篇文章,报道在杜伊勒里宫举行的一次舞会情况,文章中提到了他的名字。福什利住在底层与二楼之间的夹层里,几扇方形小窗户,被一家店铺的大招牌遮挡了一半,左边最后一扇窗户的窗帘没有拉严,一道强烈的灯光从中间射出来,把窗户分成两部分。他木立在那里,双目注视着这道光亮,全神贯注地等待着。
月亮消失了,天空墨黑,下起冰冷的蒙蒙细雨,圣三教堂的钟敲了两点。普鲁旺斯街和泰布街隐没在星星点点的煤气灯的强烈灯光中,到了远处,这灯光淹没在远处的黄色的雾气中。缪法一动不动。那是一间卧室,他记得它的墙壁上挂着土耳其红棉布帷幔,房间的后面有一张路易十三款式的床。灯大概是在右边,搁在壁炉上。他们可能睡觉了,因为没有一个人影在走动,那道亮光纹丝不动,就像夜明灯的光亮。他的目光一直盯着上面,心里筹谋着:他去按门铃,不管门房如何叫喊,冲到楼上,用肩膀撞开门,扑到他们身上,在他俩搂在一起还没有来得及松开膀子时,就在床上把他们当场抓住。但他想到自己没有武器,又犹豫了一会儿。随后,他决定把他们掐死。他把计划重新考虑了一遍,他想得很周到,决定再等一等,等到有什么迹象,证据确凿时再动手。如果有一个女人的影子出现,他就去按门铃。但是,当他想到自己可能弄错时,他的心又凉了。他如果冲进去,会说出什么理由呢?他又怀疑起来了,他原来的想法是荒诞的,这是不可能的,他的老婆不可能在这个男人家里。然而,他还是呆在那里,因为等久了,眼睛盯住不动,视线模糊起来,身体渐渐麻木了,变得软绵绵的。
刚才又下了一阵骤雨。两个警察走过来,他不得不离开他避雨的门口。等到两个警察消失在普鲁旺斯街后,他又走回来,身上淋得湿漉漉的,浑身直打哆嗦。那条亮光一直出现在窗户上。这次他正要走时,窗口有一个人影走过。那个人影一闪而过,他以为自己看错了。但是,接二连三的影子晃来晃去,看来刚才有人在房间里活动。他又一次伫立在人行道上,他感到胃里火辣辣的,难以忍受,但他仍然等待着,想把事情弄清楚。只见胳膊和大腿的影子在窗口上飞逝而过;一只巨大的手捧着一只水壶在那里动来动去。他什么东西也没有看清楚;但他仿佛辨认出一个女人的发髻。但他对这一点还不能肯定;从头发上看像是萨比娜,只是后颈似乎太胖了。此时此刻,他不知道该怎么办,也不能采取任何行动。他拿不定主意,陷入极度焦虑不安之中,胃里又疼得不堪忍受,他便把身子紧紧贴在门上,以便减轻一点痛苦,他浑身上下像穷鬼似的颤抖着。尽管这样,他的目光仍然不离开窗户,他的满腔怒火熄灭了,转化为道德家的幻想:他幻想自己是议员,面对全体议员发表演说,大声申斥荒淫无耻的生活,宣告社会已经大难临头;他把福什利的那篇关于毒蝇的文章重新构思了一遍,并以现身说法,宣称如果让后期罗马帝国的这些伤风败俗的社会风气继续下去,社会就不可能存在了。他这样一想,情绪就好了一些。可是人影已经不见了。他们肯定又上床睡觉了。他一直注视着窗子,依然等待下去。
时钟敲了三点,后来又敲了四点,他还不离开那里。大雨滂沱时,他就躲到门檐下面,腿上溅满污泥浊水。这时,路上没有一个行人,他傻头傻脑地把目光盯在那道灯光上,不时眯缝起眼睛,好像被灯光照痛了似的。又有两次,他看见人影在晃动,人影做着同样的动作,端着一把硕大无朋的水壶,但他两次又很快平静下来,窗口依然发出夜明灯般的微弱光亮。他想这些影子也许会更加频繁出现的。这时,他的头脑里突然产生了一个想法,他又平静下来,于是,推迟了行动的时间:他只要在门口等那个女人出来就行了。萨比娜他总是会辨认清楚的。这个办法最简单,不会闹出什么笑话来,而且证据确凿可靠。他只要一直呆在那儿就行了。他刚才思绪万千,心神不定,现在隐约感到只要弄清事实真相就好办了。但是,无聊地呆在这扇门边着实使他昏昏欲睡,为了分散一下注意力,他试着计算他要等待多长时间。萨比娜大概在将近九点钟时到达火车站。这就意味着他还要等待将近四个半钟头。他想到自己要长时间等下去,觉得倒也蛮有趣的,于是,他就充满耐心,一动不动地等下去。
倏然间,那条亮光消失了。这件很简单的事在他看来是出乎意料的大灾难,是一件令人讨厌和不安的事情。显而易见,他们刚才关了灯,马上就睡觉了。在这样的时刻,这是合乎情理的事。但是他很恼火,因为那扇窗户现在黑洞洞的,他对它再也不感兴趣了。他对着窗户又看了一刻钟,接着,他觉得厌腻了,便离开了那扇门,到人行道上走走。直到五点钟时,他还在那里徘徊着,还不时抬起头来瞧瞧那扇窗户。那扇窗户里死一般地寂静,他心想自己是不是在做梦,因为那扇窗户的玻璃上不时有人影在晃动。他疲惫不堪,头脑处于迟钝状态,竟然忘记自己在街角上等什么,他的脚不时绊在街上的石头上,这时猛然一惊,清醒过来,身上打一个寒噤,像一个人不知道自己在哪里似的。自寻烦恼,真不值得。既然这些人睡觉了,就让他们睡吧。管他们的闲事有什么好处呢?天很黑,谁也不知道这些事情。这样一想,他的种种想法,连同他的好奇心,都一下子消失了,心想这事就算了,找个地方轻松一下吧。天越来越冷了,再呆在街上他忍受不住了;两次他走开了,又拖着脚步走回来,然后又走得更远一些。没有什么,这事就算完了,他一直走到大街上,再也没有回头。
他怏怏不乐地走过一条又一条街道。他沿着墙壁,迈着同样的步伐,慢悠悠地走着。鞋跟踏在地上咚咚作响,只看见自己的影子在打转,在每一盏煤气灯的照耀下,先是影子渐渐变大,然后渐渐变小,就像躺在摇篮里被摇晃着,他的注意力完全集中在这种机械的动作里。后来,他根本不知道自己走过什么地方;他仿佛觉得在跑马场里,拖着脚步兜圆圈子转了几个小时。只有一件事他还记得很清楚,他把脸贴在全景胡同的栅栏门上,双手抓住铁栏杆,怎么会走到这里,他自己也无法解释。他并未摇动铁栏杆,只是竭力向胡同里张望,他的情绪很激动。他什么也没有看清楚,因为黑影淹没了这条阒无一人的过道。从圣—马克街刮来的风,带着地窖般的湿气,迎面扑到他的脸上。他执意呆在那里。然后,他像从梦中惊醒过来,他很诧异,心里思忖着,在这样的时刻,自己跑到这里来寻找什么?竟然怀着这样的激情,紧紧贴在铁栅栏上,铁栅栏都嵌进他脸里去了。想到这里,他又继续走路,他很失望,内心极度哀伤,像被什么人出卖了似的,从此就要一个人孤零零地呆在这黑暗之中了。
天终于亮了。这是冬夜的灰暗的黎明,这样的天色映在巴黎泥泞的马路上,显得格外凄凉。缪法回到了正在修建的几条宽阔的街道上,这几条街道位于新歌剧院的建筑工地旁边。铺灰泥的街道被大雨一浇,又被马车一碾,简直成了烂泥塘,他根本不看脚踩在哪里,一股劲儿往前走,脚下踩滑了,就站稳一下。天越来越亮,巴黎醒来了,一队队清洁工和一群群上早班的工人给他带来了新的惶恐。人们惊奇地打量着他,他的帽子湿透了,浑身泥浆,他神色慌张。于是,他躲到脚手架下,靠在栅栏边,在那里待了好一会儿。这时他头脑里什么念头也没有了,唯一的想法是觉得自己怪可怜的。
这时,他想到了上帝。这种突然求助上天的想法,祈求上天安慰的念头使他感到惊讶,好像这是一件意想不到、希奇古怪的事情;这个想法使他联想到韦诺先生的那副面容,他仿佛看见了他那张肥胖的小脸和满嘴的坏牙。几个月来,他对韦诺先生敬而远之,使韦诺先生很伤心,如果现在他去敲他的门,扑到他怀里痛哭一场,韦诺先生一定很高兴。过去,天主一贯对他大施仁慈。他只要在生活中有一点点烦恼,碰到一点点障碍,他便走进教堂,跪在地上,让渺小的自己跪拜在万能的天主的面前;祈祷后,他走出教堂,总是变得坚强起来,他准备抛弃他的人世间的一切财富,以求实现他的灵魂永生得救的唯一愿望。然而现在呢,只有在下地狱的恐怖降临到他头上时,他才去祈祷求助;各种淫乐侵袭了他的灵魂,与娜娜的关系也影响了他尽教徒的本分。现在他一想到上帝,便感到震惊。在这场可怖的精神危机之中,在他的脆弱的人性濒于动摇和崩溃的危机之中,他为什么没有立刻想到天主呢?
想到这里,他迈着艰难的步伐,去寻找教堂。他回忆不起来哪儿有教堂,因为清晨街道都不像原来的样子了。随后,当他在当丹河堤街拐角处转弯时,隐约瞥见圣三教堂的尽头那隐没在晨雾之中的钟楼。一尊尊白色雕像俯视着公园,公园中的树木都落了叶,这些雕像仿佛是公园的黄叶丛中那些怕冷的维纳斯雕像。他上了宽大的石阶,他跑累了,在门廊下喘口气。随后,他走进教堂。教堂里很冷,昨天晚上暖气关了,高高的拱顶上布满了从玻璃窗上渗进来的水蒸汽。黑暗笼罩着两边的侧道,那里还没有一个人,只听见在朦胧的黑暗深处,发出一阵脚步声,那是某个刚刚醒来的教堂执事怏怏不乐地拖着旧鞋走动的声音。缪法呢,晕头转向,一下撞在横七竖八的椅子上,他心情沉重,真想哭出来。他一下子跪在圣水缸旁边的一个小神龛的栏杆前面。他双手合十,脑中思索着祈祷词,渴望着在热情的驱使下,把整个身心都奉献出来。不过,只有他的嘴唇在念念有词,他的心却不在教堂里,飞到了外边,沿着一条条街道走着,一会儿也不休息,好像被一种无法改变的需要鞭挞着。他连声祈祷着:“啊,我主,来拯救我吧!啊,我主,不要抛弃您的造物吧!他是来听候您的审判的。啊,我主,我崇拜您,难道您让我死在您的敌人的手下吗?”他没有得到任何回答,只有黑暗和寒冷压在他的肩上。远处,继续传来旧鞋拖在地上的声响,这声音妨碍他祈祷。在阒无一人的教堂里,早晨清扫还未开始,空气还未稍微暖和一点,因为第一批做弥撒的人还未来到,他总是只听见这样令人恼怒的声音。于是,他抓着一把椅子,站起身来,膝盖咯吱响了一声。上帝还没有来到教堂里。他为什么要扑在韦诺先生的怀里痛哭呢?这个人不能带他解脱危机。
然后,他不由自主地回到了娜娜家里。他在门外滑了一跤,他感到泪水涌入了眼眶,他并不埋怨自己的命运不好,只觉得自己身体虚弱和不适。最后他疲乏不堪,因为被雨淋得太厉害了,冷得不堪忍受。一想到要回到米罗梅斯尼尔街的光线暗淡的公馆里,心都凉了。娜娜家的大门还未开,他只好等待门房来开门。上楼时,他笑眯眯的,感到身上流着这个小窝的一股暖流,他在这里马上可以伸伸懒腰,痛痛快快睡上一觉了。
佐爱来给他开门时,做了一个惊讶和不安的手势。太太偏头痛发作得很厉害,一夜没有合眼。不过她仍然可以去看看太太是否睡着了。当他坐到客厅的沙发上时,佐爱溜进了娜娜的卧室。可是,娜娜马上就出来了。她跳下床,匆忙穿上裙子,光着脚,头发蓬乱,那件睡衣经过一夜胡乱作爱后,皱巴巴的,有的地方破了。
“怎么!又是你!”她嚷道,脸都涨红了。
盛怒之下,她跑过来想亲自把他赶出门,但看见他那一副可怜、沮丧的样子,对他又产生了最后一丝怜悯之情。
“哎哟!你真干净,我可怜的小狗!”她用比较温柔的口气说道,“发生什么事啦……嗯?你去捉奸,结果反把自己搞得这样狼狈。”
他一声不吭,样子像只丧家犬。不过,她明白他还没有搞到证据;为了让他平静下来,她说道:
“你看,是我弄错了。你老婆是个正经女人,我敢担保!……现在,我的小乖乖,你该回家了,回去睡觉吧。你需要睡眠。”
他一动也不动。
“走吧,走吧。我不能留你在这里……在这样的时刻,你大概也不想留在这里吧?”
“不,我想留下来,我们一起睡觉吧。”他嘟囔道。
她消除了硬赶他走的想法。不过,她已失去了耐心。难道缪法变成了白痴?
“喂,你走吧。”她又说了一遍。
“我不走。”
于是,娜娜又气又反感,勃然大怒。
“你真讨厌……你明白了吧,你让我厌透了,回去找你老婆吧,是她叫你戴绿帽子的……是的,是她叫你戴绿帽子的;现在,我对你这么说……喂,我的话你听明白了吗?你还不放开我吗?”
缪法的眼里噙着泪水,合拢双手央求道:
“我们一起睡吧。”
娜娜一下子不知所措,神经质般地抽抽噎噎,哭得透不过气来。归根结蒂,是人家奸污了她!这些事与她有何相干?确实,她尽可能用委婉的方式来启发他。而现在人家却想叫她承担责任!不,这可不行!她心地好,但不能好到这种程度。
“他妈的!我受够了!”她骂道,一边用手敲着桌子,“嘿!我竭力忍住,我想忠实于你……可是,亲爱的,只要我开口说一句话,明天我就会变成富翁。”
他吃惊地抬起头来。他从来没有想到钱的问题。如果她表示有这样愿望,他马上就把它付诸实现。他的全部财产都是属于她的。
“不行,现在给钱太迟了,”她怒气冲冲地说道,“我喜欢那些不用我开口就给钱的男人……不行,你知道,你现在一次给我一百万,我也不要。我就说到这里,我还有别的事呢……你走吧,否则,我对后果不负任何责任。我可要闹出事来的。”
她脸上露出威胁的神态,向他走去。这个善良的烟花女被逼得大动肝火,她仍然深信她对那些缠住她的正经男人享有权利,并深信自己比他们更正经。这时,门倏然开了,斯泰内来了。这真是火上加油。她惊叫了一声:
“瞧!又来了一个!”
听到她的叫声,斯泰内愣了一下,他停止了脚步。缪法在场出乎他的意料,他真反感,因为他害怕缪法作解释,所以三个月来,他一直回避这件事。他眨着眼睛,神色尴尬地摇摆着身子,看也不看伯爵一眼。他气喘吁吁,满脸通红,脸色变了样,好像一个人跑遍了巴黎,来报一则喜讯,却碰上一件倒霉的事。
“你要干什么,你?”娜娜生硬地问道,她用亲昵的人称来称呼斯泰内,以此来奚落伯爵。
“我……我……”斯泰内结结巴巴地说,“我有东西要交给你,你知道是什么东西。”
“什么东西?”
他犹豫了一下。前天晚上,她曾对他说,如果他不给她搞到一千法郎来给她还债,她就不再接待他了。两天来,他到处奔波,终于在今天上午才凑足了这笔钱。
“你需要的一千法郎。”他终于开口了,一边从口袋里抽出一只信封。
这件事娜娜已经忘记了。
“一千法郎!”她嚷道,“我是乞求施舍的吗?……瞧!你看我是看中你这一千法郎!”
说完,她拿起信封,朝他的脸上扔去。斯泰内是个谨慎的犹太人,他吃力地把信封捡起来,用呆滞的目光看着娜娜。缪法同他交换了一下失望的眼色,而娜娜两手叉腰,嚷得更响了:
“喂!你们侮辱我算完了吧!……你呀,亲爱的斯泰内,你也来了,我很高兴,你明白了吧,这样我就可以彻底打扫了……走吧,好了,滚吧。”
他们一点也不着急,一动也不动。她又说道:
“嗯!你们会说我在干一件蠢事吧?这很可能!但是你们把我烦死了!……呸!我干漂亮事已经干够了!如果我因干蠢事而死,我也死得其乐!”
他们想叫她平静下来,他们恳求她。
“一,二,你们还赖着不走?……好吧,你们瞧,我还有人呢。”
她用力一推,把卧室的门开得很大。于是两个男人瞥见丰唐躺在乱糟糟的床中间。丰唐没有料到会这样让他亮相。他翘着两条腿,睡衣敞开,像只公山羊躺在起皱的花边中间,露出一身黑皮。他并没有惊慌失措,因为他在舞台上什么惊险的场面都经历过。他开始吃了一惊,接着做了一个鬼脸来摆脱困境,他伸着嘴唇,翘着鼻子,脸部肌肉动个不停,用他的话来说,这叫扮兔子。他那副下流的色鬼嘴脸,充分暴露出他的淫荡的恶习。一个星期以来,娜娜每天到游艺剧院找丰唐,因为她也像某些娼妓一样,疯狂地爱上丑角演员的鬼脸了。
“瞧吧!”她用演戏的动作指着丰唐说道。
缪法什么气都忍受过了,但是对这样的侮辱却忍受不了。
“婊子!”他嘟哝道。
娜娜已经进了卧室,又走回来,最后说道:
“你说什么,婊子!那么,你的老婆呢?”
接着,她走回卧室,使劲关上门,然后哐当一声插上门栓。门外剩下两个男人,一声不吭,面面相觑。佐爱进来了,原来她并没有赶他们走,而是理解他们,和他们谈话。她是一个聪明人,她认为太太的蠢事做得有点过分。不过,她还是为她辩护,说她与那个丑角演员的关系长不了,应该让她这股狂热劲儿过了再说。两个男人走了。他们一句话也没说就走了。到了人行道上,他们很激动,彼此倒产生了友情,默默地握握手,然后转过脸,迈着沉重的步伐,分道扬镳了。
缪法回到米罗梅斯尼尔街的公馆时,他的老婆也刚刚到家。两个人在宽阔楼梯上相遇了,看见楼梯旁的阴森森的墙壁,两人不禁打了一个寒战。他们抬起头来,彼此看见了。伯爵的衣服上还留下泥巴的痕迹,他脸色苍白,神态慌张,像在外面干了丑事。伯爵夫人像坐了一夜火车,疲惫不堪,站着打盹,头发蓬乱,眼皮发黑。
点击收听单词发音
1 afterward | |
adv.后来;以后 | |
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2 panoramas | |
全景画( panorama的名词复数 ); 全景照片; 一连串景象或事 | |
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3 thronged | |
v.成群,挤满( throng的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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4 laboriously | |
adv.艰苦地;费力地;辛勤地;(文体等)佶屈聱牙地 | |
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5 illuminated | |
adj.被照明的;受启迪的 | |
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6 emanated | |
v.从…处传出,传出( emanate的过去式和过去分词 );产生,表现,显示 | |
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7 ornaments | |
n.装饰( ornament的名词复数 );点缀;装饰品;首饰v.装饰,点缀,美化( ornament的第三人称单数 ) | |
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8 disorder | |
n.紊乱,混乱;骚动,骚乱;疾病,失调 | |
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9 loomed | |
v.隐约出现,阴森地逼近( loom的过去式和过去分词 );隐约出现,阴森地逼近 | |
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10 din | |
n.喧闹声,嘈杂声 | |
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11 severed | |
v.切断,断绝( sever的过去式和过去分词 );断,裂 | |
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12 cuff | |
n.袖口;手铐;护腕;vt.用手铐铐;上袖口 | |
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13 luminous | |
adj.发光的,发亮的;光明的;明白易懂的;有启发的 | |
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14 manifestations | |
n.表示,显示(manifestation的复数形式) | |
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15 contemplated | |
adj. 预期的 动词contemplate的过去分词形式 | |
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16 hustled | |
催促(hustle的过去式与过去分词形式) | |
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17 caress | |
vt./n.爱抚,抚摸 | |
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18 caresses | |
爱抚,抚摸( caress的名词复数 ) | |
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19 vowed | |
起誓,发誓(vow的过去式与过去分词形式) | |
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20 ousting | |
驱逐( oust的现在分词 ); 革职; 罢黜; 剥夺 | |
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21 verge | |
n.边,边缘;v.接近,濒临 | |
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22 shareholders | |
n.股东( shareholder的名词复数 ) | |
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23 subscription | |
n.预订,预订费,亲笔签名,调配法,下标(处方) | |
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24 tardy | |
adj.缓慢的,迟缓的 | |
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25 awakening | |
n.觉醒,醒悟 adj.觉醒中的;唤醒的 | |
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26 enjoyment | |
n.乐趣;享有;享用 | |
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27 jealousy | |
n.妒忌,嫉妒,猜忌 | |
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28 offense | |
n.犯规,违法行为;冒犯,得罪 | |
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29 vent | |
n.通风口,排放口;开衩;vt.表达,发泄 | |
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30 fixed | |
adj.固定的,不变的,准备好的;(计算机)固定的 | |
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31 larks | |
n.百灵科鸟(尤指云雀)( lark的名词复数 );一大早就起床;鸡鸣即起;(因太费力而不想干时说)算了v.百灵科鸟(尤指云雀)( lark的第三人称单数 );一大早就起床;鸡鸣即起;(因太费力而不想干时说)算了 | |
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32 salmon | |
n.鲑,大马哈鱼,橙红色的 | |
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33 laden | |
adj.装满了的;充满了的;负了重担的;苦恼的 | |
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34 scents | |
n.香水( scent的名词复数 );气味;(动物的)臭迹;(尤指狗的)嗅觉 | |
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35 savor | |
vt.品尝,欣赏;n.味道,风味;情趣,趣味 | |
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36 vanilla | |
n.香子兰,香草 | |
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37 emanating | |
v.从…处传出,传出( emanate的现在分词 );产生,表现,显示 | |
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38 musk | |
n.麝香, 能发出麝香的各种各样的植物,香猫 | |
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39 placidly | |
adv.平稳地,平静地 | |
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40 medley | |
n.混合 | |
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41 ailing | |
v.生病 | |
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42 vile | |
adj.卑鄙的,可耻的,邪恶的;坏透的 | |
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43 lookout | |
n.注意,前途,瞭望台 | |
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44 slumberous | |
a.昏昏欲睡的 | |
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45 wreckage | |
n.(失事飞机等的)残骸,破坏,毁坏 | |
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46 peculiar | |
adj.古怪的,异常的;特殊的,特有的 | |
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47 ragged | |
adj.衣衫褴褛的,粗糙的,刺耳的 | |
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48 congregate | |
v.(使)集合,聚集 | |
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49 doorway | |
n.门口,(喻)入门;门路,途径 | |
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50 determined | |
adj.坚定的;有决心的 | |
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51 solitary | |
adj.孤独的,独立的,荒凉的;n.隐士 | |
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52 wrung | |
绞( wring的过去式和过去分词 ); 握紧(尤指别人的手); 把(湿衣服)拧干; 绞掉(水) | |
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53 anguish | |
n.(尤指心灵上的)极度痛苦,烦恼 | |
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54 linen | |
n.亚麻布,亚麻线,亚麻制品;adj.亚麻布制的,亚麻的 | |
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55 adorned | |
[计]被修饰的 | |
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56 dressing | |
n.(食物)调料;包扎伤口的用品,敷料 | |
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57 latch | |
n.门闩,窗闩;弹簧锁 | |
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58 drenched | |
adj.湿透的;充满的v.使湿透( drench的过去式和过去分词 );在某人(某物)上大量使用(某液体) | |
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59 situated | |
adj.坐落在...的,处于某种境地的 | |
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60 foul | |
adj.污秽的;邪恶的;v.弄脏;妨害;犯规;n.犯规 | |
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61 premises | |
n.建筑物,房屋 | |
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62 antiquated | |
adj.陈旧的,过时的 | |
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63 filth | |
n.肮脏,污物,污秽;淫猥 | |
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64 mildewed | |
adj.发了霉的,陈腐的,长了霉花的v.(使)发霉,(使)长霉( mildew的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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65 slumbering | |
微睡,睡眠(slumber的现在分词形式) | |
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66 glimmer | |
v.发出闪烁的微光;n.微光,微弱的闪光 | |
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67 deserted | |
adj.荒芜的,荒废的,无人的,被遗弃的 | |
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68 melancholy | |
n.忧郁,愁思;adj.令人感伤(沮丧)的,忧郁的 | |
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69 dread | |
vt.担忧,忧虑;惧怕,不敢;n.担忧,畏惧 | |
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70 humility | |
n.谦逊,谦恭 | |
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71 mingled | |
混合,混入( mingle的过去式和过去分词 ); 混进,与…交往[联系] | |
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72 munching | |
v.用力咀嚼(某物),大嚼( munch的现在分词 ) | |
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73 raved | |
v.胡言乱语( rave的过去式和过去分词 );愤怒地说;咆哮;痴心地说 | |
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74 impudent | |
adj.鲁莽的,卑鄙的,厚颜无耻的 | |
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75 descended | |
a.为...后裔的,出身于...的 | |
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76 stammered | |
v.结巴地说出( stammer的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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77 mere | |
adj.纯粹的;仅仅,只不过 | |
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78 reassured | |
adj.使消除疑虑的;使放心的v.再保证,恢复信心( reassure的过去式和过去分词) | |
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79 queried | |
v.质疑,对…表示疑问( query的过去式和过去分词 );询问 | |
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80 hesitation | |
n.犹豫,踌躇 | |
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81 rancor | |
n.深仇,积怨 | |
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82 prey | |
n.被掠食者,牺牲者,掠食;v.捕食,掠夺,折磨 | |
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83 besets | |
v.困扰( beset的第三人称单数 );不断围攻;镶;嵌 | |
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84 regain | |
vt.重新获得,收复,恢复 | |
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85 initiate | |
vt.开始,创始,发动;启蒙,使入门;引入 | |
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86 possessed | |
adj.疯狂的;拥有的,占有的 | |
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87 entrapped | |
v.使陷入圈套,使入陷阱( entrap的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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88 prettily | |
adv.优美地;可爱地 | |
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89 rue | |
n.懊悔,芸香,后悔;v.后悔,悲伤,懊悔 | |
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90 bracelet | |
n.手镯,臂镯 | |
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91 jewelry | |
n.(jewllery)(总称)珠宝 | |
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92 gilded | |
a.镀金的,富有的 | |
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93 zinc | |
n.锌;vt.在...上镀锌 | |
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94 supreme | |
adj.极度的,最重要的;至高的,最高的 | |
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95 ecstasies | |
狂喜( ecstasy的名词复数 ); 出神; 入迷; 迷幻药 | |
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96 obelisks | |
n.方尖石塔,短剑号,疑问记号( obelisk的名词复数 ) | |
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97 agitated | |
adj.被鼓动的,不安的 | |
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98 devouring | |
吞没( devour的现在分词 ); 耗尽; 津津有味地看; 狼吞虎咽地吃光 | |
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99 entirely | |
ad.全部地,完整地;完全地,彻底地 | |
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100 decided | |
adj.决定了的,坚决的;明显的,明确的 | |
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101 creditors | |
n.债权人,债主( creditor的名词复数 ) | |
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102 tormenting | |
使痛苦的,使苦恼的 | |
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103 wont | |
adj.习惯于;v.习惯;n.习惯 | |
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104 maxims | |
n.格言,座右铭( maxim的名词复数 ) | |
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105 dint | |
n.由于,靠;凹坑 | |
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106 grandiose | |
adj.宏伟的,宏大的,堂皇的,铺张的 | |
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107 imprisoned | |
下狱,监禁( imprison的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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108 flaring | |
a.火焰摇曳的,过份艳丽的 | |
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109 retracing | |
v.折回( retrace的现在分词 );回忆;回顾;追溯 | |
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110 porcelain | |
n.瓷;adj.瓷的,瓷制的 | |
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111 standing | |
n.持续,地位;adj.永久的,不动的,直立的,不流动的 | |
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112 longing | |
n.(for)渴望 | |
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113 oysters | |
牡蛎( oyster的名词复数 ) | |
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114 merged | |
(使)混合( merge的过去式和过去分词 ); 相融; 融入; 渐渐消失在某物中 | |
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115 winked | |
v.使眼色( wink的过去式和过去分词 );递眼色(表示友好或高兴等);(指光)闪烁;闪亮 | |
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116 exalted | |
adj.(地位等)高的,崇高的;尊贵的,高尚的 | |
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117 amicably | |
adv.友善地 | |
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118 shrug | |
v.耸肩(表示怀疑、冷漠、不知等) | |
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119 shrugged | |
vt.耸肩(shrug的过去式与过去分词形式) | |
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120 bouquets | |
n.花束( bouquet的名词复数 );(酒的)芳香 | |
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121 intoxication | |
n.wild excitement;drunkenness;poisoning | |
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122 uproar | |
n.骚动,喧嚣,鼎沸 | |
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123 chuckle | |
vi./n.轻声笑,咯咯笑 | |
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124 scrutinized | |
v.仔细检查,详审( scrutinize的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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125 sneering | |
嘲笑的,轻蔑的 | |
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126 exclamation | |
n.感叹号,惊呼,惊叹词 | |
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127 outraged | |
a.震惊的,义愤填膺的 | |
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128 divan | |
n.长沙发;(波斯或其他东方诗人的)诗集 | |
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129 twitching | |
n.颤搐 | |
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130 kindly | |
adj.和蔼的,温和的,爽快的;adv.温和地,亲切地 | |
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131 hearth | |
n.壁炉炉床,壁炉地面 | |
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132 velvet | |
n.丝绒,天鹅绒;adj.丝绒制的,柔软的 | |
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133 pillaging | |
v.抢劫,掠夺( pillage的现在分词 ) | |
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134 vexing | |
adj.使人烦恼的,使人恼火的v.使烦恼( vex的现在分词 );使苦恼;使生气;详细讨论 | |
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135 perfectly | |
adv.完美地,无可非议地,彻底地 | |
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136 ecstasy | |
n.狂喜,心醉神怡,入迷 | |
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137 supple | |
adj.柔软的,易弯的,逢迎的,顺从的,灵活的;vt.使柔软,使柔顺,使顺从;vi.变柔软,变柔顺 | |
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138 attentive | |
adj.注意的,专心的;关心(别人)的,殷勤的 | |
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139 preoccupied | |
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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140 recurred | |
再发生,复发( recur的过去式和过去分词 ); 治愈 | |
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141 harassed | |
adj. 疲倦的,厌烦的 动词harass的过去式和过去分词 | |
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142 slandered | |
造谣中伤( slander的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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143 indifference | |
n.不感兴趣,不关心,冷淡,不在乎 | |
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144 tainted | |
adj.腐坏的;污染的;沾污的;感染的v.使变质( taint的过去式和过去分词 );使污染;败坏;被污染,腐坏,败坏 | |
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145 cumulative | |
adj.累积的,渐增的 | |
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146 misery | |
n.痛苦,苦恼,苦难;悲惨的境遇,贫苦 | |
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147 avenges | |
v.为…复仇,报…之仇( avenge的第三人称单数 );为…报复 | |
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148 ferment | |
vt.使发酵;n./vt.(使)激动,(使)动乱 | |
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149 leaven | |
v.使发酵;n.酵母;影响 | |
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150 corrupts | |
(使)败坏( corrupt的第三人称单数 ); (使)腐化; 引起(计算机文件等的)错误; 破坏 | |
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151 thighs | |
n.股,大腿( thigh的名词复数 );食用的鸡(等的)腿 | |
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152 thigh | |
n.大腿;股骨 | |
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153 hue | |
n.色度;色调;样子 | |
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154 carrion | |
n.腐肉 | |
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155 fixedly | |
adv.固定地;不屈地,坚定不移地 | |
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156 extravagant | |
adj.奢侈的;过分的;(言行等)放肆的 | |
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157 quaint | |
adj.古雅的,离奇有趣的,奇怪的 | |
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158 awakened | |
v.(使)醒( awaken的过去式和过去分词 );(使)觉醒;弄醒;(使)意识到 | |
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159 attentively | |
adv.聚精会神地;周到地;谛;凝神 | |
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160 touching | |
adj.动人的,使人感伤的 | |
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161 bent | |
n.爱好,癖好;adj.弯的;决心的,一心的 | |
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162 bosom | |
n.胸,胸部;胸怀;内心;adj.亲密的 | |
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163 sweeping | |
adj.范围广大的,一扫无遗的 | |
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164 corrupted | |
(使)败坏( corrupt的过去式和过去分词 ); (使)腐化; 引起(计算机文件等的)错误; 破坏 | |
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165 marrow | |
n.骨髓;精华;活力 | |
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166 impurities | |
不纯( impurity的名词复数 ); 不洁; 淫秽; 杂质 | |
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167 destined | |
adj.命中注定的;(for)以…为目的地的 | |
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168 entailed | |
使…成为必要( entail的过去式和过去分词 ); 需要; 限定继承; 使必需 | |
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169 fabric | |
n.织物,织品,布;构造,结构,组织 | |
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170 crumbling | |
adj.摇摇欲坠的 | |
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171 loathing | |
n.厌恶,憎恨v.憎恨,厌恶( loathe的现在分词);极不喜欢 | |
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172 amorous | |
adj.多情的;有关爱情的 | |
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173 texture | |
n.(织物)质地;(材料)构造;结构;肌理 | |
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174 scriptures | |
经文,圣典( scripture的名词复数 ); 经典 | |
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175 lewd | |
adj.淫荡的 | |
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176 velvety | |
adj. 像天鹅绒的, 轻软光滑的, 柔软的 | |
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177 lurking | |
潜在 | |
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178 brute | |
n.野兽,兽性 | |
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179 gathering | |
n.集会,聚会,聚集 | |
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180 coaxingly | |
adv. 以巧言诱哄,以甘言哄骗 | |
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181 lustful | |
a.贪婪的;渴望的 | |
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182 exasperated | |
adj.恼怒的 | |
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183 exasperate | |
v.激怒,使(疾病)加剧,使恶化 | |
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184 mighty | |
adj.强有力的;巨大的 | |
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185 brutal | |
adj.残忍的,野蛮的,不讲理的 | |
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186 undoing | |
n.毁灭的原因,祸根;破坏,毁灭 | |
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187 vileness | |
n.讨厌,卑劣 | |
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188 savagely | |
adv. 野蛮地,残酷地 | |
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189 vaguely | |
adv.含糊地,暖昧地 | |
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190 drowsy | |
adj.昏昏欲睡的,令人发困的 | |
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191 assent | |
v.批准,认可;n.批准,认可 | |
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192 tumult | |
n.喧哗;激动,混乱;吵闹 | |
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193 propped | |
支撑,支持,维持( prop的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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194 rumpled | |
v.弄皱,使凌乱( rumple的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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195 amiable | |
adj.和蔼可亲的,友善的,亲切的 | |
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196 embarrassment | |
n.尴尬;使人为难的人(事物);障碍;窘迫 | |
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197 vexed | |
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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198 contented | |
adj.满意的,安心的,知足的 | |
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199 fully | |
adv.完全地,全部地,彻底地;充分地 | |
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200 viper | |
n.毒蛇;危险的人 | |
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201 gaily | |
adv.欢乐地,高兴地 | |
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202 confession | |
n.自白,供认,承认 | |
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203 marvel | |
vi.(at)惊叹vt.感到惊异;n.令人惊异的事 | |
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204 peals | |
n.(声音大而持续或重复的)洪亮的响声( peal的名词复数 );隆隆声;洪亮的钟声;钟乐v.(使)(钟等)鸣响,(雷等)发出隆隆声( peal的第三人称单数 ) | |
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205 spoke | |
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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206 modesty | |
n.谦逊,虚心,端庄,稳重,羞怯,朴素 | |
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207 thoroughly | |
adv.完全地,彻底地,十足地 | |
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208 iceberg | |
n.冰山,流冰,冷冰冰的人 | |
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209 condescended | |
屈尊,俯就( condescend的过去式和过去分词 ); 故意表示和蔼可亲 | |
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210 lucidly | |
adv.清透地,透明地 | |
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211 maternal | |
adj.母亲的,母亲般的,母系的,母方的 | |
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212 dreading | |
v.害怕,恐惧,担心( dread的现在分词 ) | |
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213 droll | |
adj.古怪的,好笑的 | |
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214 allusions | |
暗指,间接提到( allusion的名词复数 ) | |
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215 brutes | |
兽( brute的名词复数 ); 畜生; 残酷无情的人; 兽性 | |
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216 gee | |
n.马;int.向右!前进!,惊讶时所发声音;v.向右转 | |
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217 mumbled | |
含糊地说某事,叽咕,咕哝( mumble的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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218 tempted | |
v.怂恿(某人)干不正当的事;冒…的险(tempt的过去分词) | |
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219 triumphantly | |
ad.得意洋洋地;得胜地;成功地 | |
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220 meddle | |
v.干预,干涉,插手 | |
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221 maniac | |
n.精神癫狂的人;疯子 | |
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222 lessen | |
vt.减少,减轻;缩小 | |
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223 fumbling | |
n. 摸索,漏接 v. 摸索,摸弄,笨拙的处理 | |
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224 usher | |
n.带位员,招待员;vt.引导,护送;vi.做招待,担任引座员 | |
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225 greasy | |
adj. 多脂的,油脂的 | |
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226 scudding | |
n.刮面v.(尤指船、舰或云彩)笔直、高速而平稳地移动( scud的现在分词 ) | |
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227 mumbling | |
含糊地说某事,叽咕,咕哝( mumble的现在分词 ) | |
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228 shameful | |
adj.可耻的,不道德的 | |
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229 miserably | |
adv.痛苦地;悲惨地;糟糕地;极度地 | |
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230 sobbing | |
<主方>Ⅰ adj.湿透的 | |
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231 fathomless | |
a.深不可测的 | |
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232 recurring | |
adj.往复的,再次发生的 | |
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233 inevitable | |
adj.不可避免的,必然发生的 | |
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234 evoked | |
[医]诱发的 | |
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235 lusts | |
贪求(lust的第三人称单数形式) | |
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236 literally | |
adv.照字面意义,逐字地;确实 | |
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237 plunged | |
v.颠簸( plunge的过去式和过去分词 );暴跌;骤降;突降 | |
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238 leisurely | |
adj.悠闲的;从容的,慢慢的 | |
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239 retraced | |
v.折回( retrace的过去式和过去分词 );回忆;回顾;追溯 | |
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240 instinctively | |
adv.本能地 | |
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241 labyrinth | |
n.迷宫;难解的事物;迷路 | |
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242 colossal | |
adj.异常的,庞大的 | |
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243 streak | |
n.条理,斑纹,倾向,少许,痕迹;v.加条纹,变成条纹,奔驰,快速移动 | |
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244 drizzle | |
v.下毛毛雨;n.毛毛雨,蒙蒙细雨 | |
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245 intervals | |
n.[军事]间隔( interval的名词复数 );间隔时间;[数学]区间;(戏剧、电影或音乐会的)幕间休息 | |
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246 remonstrances | |
n.抱怨,抗议( remonstrance的名词复数 ) | |
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247 throttle | |
n.节流阀,节气阀,喉咙;v.扼喉咙,使窒息,压 | |
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248 monstrous | |
adj.巨大的;恐怖的;可耻的,丢脸的 | |
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249 torpor | |
n.迟钝;麻木;(动物的)冬眠 | |
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250 commotion | |
n.骚动,动乱 | |
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251 riveted | |
铆接( rivet的过去式和过去分词 ); 把…固定住; 吸引; 引起某人的注意 | |
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252 silhouette | |
n.黑色半身侧面影,影子,轮廓;v.描绘成侧面影,照出影子来,仅仅显出轮廓 | |
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253 jug | |
n.(有柄,小口,可盛水等的)大壶,罐,盂 | |
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254 distinguished | |
adj.卓越的,杰出的,著名的 | |
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255 sufficiently | |
adv.足够地,充分地 | |
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256 uncertainty | |
n.易变,靠不住,不确知,不确定的事物 | |
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257 haranguing | |
v.高谈阔论( harangue的现在分词 ) | |
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258 debauch | |
v.使堕落,放纵 | |
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259 prophesying | |
v.预告,预言( prophesy的现在分词 ) | |
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260 lashed | |
adj.具睫毛的v.鞭打( lash的过去式和过去分词 );煽动;紧系;怒斥 | |
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261 scorched | |
烧焦,烤焦( scorch的过去式和过去分词 ); 使(植物)枯萎,把…晒枯; 高速行驶; 枯焦 | |
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262 obstinately | |
ad.固执地,顽固地 | |
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263 idiotic | |
adj.白痴的 | |
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264 persistence | |
n.坚持,持续,存留 | |
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265 agitating | |
搅动( agitate的现在分词 ); 激怒; 使焦虑不安; (尤指为法律、社会状况的改变而)激烈争论 | |
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266 discreetly | |
ad.(言行)审慎地,慎重地 | |
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267 soothed | |
v.安慰( soothe的过去式和过去分词 );抚慰;使舒服;减轻痛苦 | |
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268 postponed | |
vt.& vi.延期,缓办,(使)延迟vt.把…放在次要地位;[语]把…放在后面(或句尾)vi.(疟疾等)延缓发作(或复发) | |
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269 vacancy | |
n.(旅馆的)空位,空房,(职务的)空缺 | |
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270 lulling | |
vt.使镇静,使安静(lull的现在分词形式) | |
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271 distraction | |
n.精神涣散,精神不集中,消遣,娱乐 | |
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272 eternity | |
n.不朽,来世;永恒,无穷 | |
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273 catastrophe | |
n.大灾难,大祸 | |
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274 panes | |
窗玻璃( pane的名词复数 ) | |
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275 fatigue | |
n.疲劳,劳累 | |
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276 shudder | |
v.战粟,震动,剧烈地摇晃;n.战粟,抖动 | |
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277 justify | |
vt.证明…正当(或有理),为…辩护 | |
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278 inflicting | |
把…强加给,使承受,遭受( inflict的现在分词 ) | |
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279 lulled | |
vt.使镇静,使安静(lull的过去式与过去分词形式) | |
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280 swelling | |
n.肿胀 | |
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281 puffed | |
adj.疏松的v.使喷出( puff的过去式和过去分词 );喷着汽(或烟)移动;吹嘘;吹捧 | |
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282 doggedly | |
adv.顽强地,固执地 | |
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283 astonishment | |
n.惊奇,惊异 | |
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284 murky | |
adj.黑暗的,朦胧的;adv.阴暗地,混浊地;n.阴暗;昏暗 | |
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285 mire | |
n.泥沼,泥泞;v.使...陷于泥泞,使...陷入困境 | |
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286 regaining | |
复得( regain的现在分词 ); 赢回; 重回; 复至某地 | |
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287 desolate | |
adj.荒凉的,荒芜的;孤独的,凄凉的;v.使荒芜,使孤寂 | |
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288 miserable | |
adj.悲惨的,痛苦的;可怜的,糟糕的 | |
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289 consolation | |
n.安慰,慰问 | |
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290 thereby | |
adv.因此,从而 | |
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291 rendering | |
n.表现,描写 | |
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292 humble | |
adj.谦卑的,恭顺的;地位低下的;v.降低,贬低 | |
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293 omnipotence | |
n.全能,万能,无限威力 | |
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294 forth | |
adv.向前;向外,往外 | |
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295 fortified | |
adj. 加强的 | |
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296 yearning | |
a.渴望的;向往的;怀念的 | |
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297 salvation | |
n.(尤指基督)救世,超度,拯救,解困 | |
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298 inclinations | |
倾向( inclination的名词复数 ); 倾斜; 爱好; 斜坡 | |
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299 looming | |
n.上现蜃景(光通过低层大气发生异常折射形成的一种海市蜃楼)v.隐约出现,阴森地逼近( loom的现在分词 );隐约出现,阴森地逼近 | |
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300 chilly | |
adj.凉快的,寒冷的 | |
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301 foliage | |
n.叶子,树叶,簇叶 | |
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302 ascent | |
n.(声望或地位)提高;上升,升高;登高 | |
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303 apparatus | |
n.装置,器械;器具,设备 | |
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304 vaulted | |
adj.拱状的 | |
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305 aisles | |
n. (席位间的)通道, 侧廊 | |
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306 vapor | |
n.蒸汽,雾气 | |
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307 chapel | |
n.小教堂,殡仪馆 | |
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308 yearned | |
渴望,切盼,向往( yearn的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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309 stammering | |
v.结巴地说出( stammer的现在分词 ) | |
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310 wilt | |
v.(使)植物凋谢或枯萎;(指人)疲倦,衰弱 | |
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311 tiresome | |
adj.令人疲劳的,令人厌倦的 | |
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312 penetrated | |
adj. 击穿的,鞭辟入里的 动词penetrate的过去式和过去分词形式 | |
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313 cozy | |
adj.亲如手足的,密切的,暖和舒服的 | |
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314 crumpled | |
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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315 nay | |
adv.不;n.反对票,投反对票者 | |
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316 utterly | |
adv.完全地,绝对地 | |
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317 spotted | |
adj.有斑点的,斑纹的,弄污了的 | |
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318 tack | |
n.大头钉;假缝,粗缝 | |
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319 Flared | |
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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320 exasperation | |
n.愤慨 | |
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321 sobs | |
啜泣(声),呜咽(声)( sob的名词复数 ) | |
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322 monetary | |
adj.货币的,钱的;通货的;金融的;财政的 | |
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323 raving | |
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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324 shrieked | |
v.尖叫( shriek的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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325 prudent | |
adj.谨慎的,有远见的,精打细算的 | |
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326 acting | |
n.演戏,行为,假装;adj.代理的,临时的,演出用的 | |
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327 grimace | |
v.做鬼脸,面部歪扭 | |
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328 exude | |
v.(使)流出,(使)渗出 | |
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329 smitten | |
猛打,重击,打击( smite的过去分词 ) | |
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330 grimacing | |
v.扮鬼相,做鬼脸( grimace的现在分词 ) | |
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331 comedian | |
n.喜剧演员;滑稽演员 | |
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332 tragic | |
adj.悲剧的,悲剧性的,悲惨的 | |
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333 affront | |
n./v.侮辱,触怒 | |
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334 retired | |
adj.隐退的,退休的,退役的 | |
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335 mutual | |
adj.相互的,彼此的;共同的,共有的 | |
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336 exhaled | |
v.呼出,发散出( exhale的过去式和过去分词 );吐出(肺中的空气、烟等),呼气 | |
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337 beheld | |
v.看,注视( behold的过去式和过去分词 );瞧;看呀;(叙述中用于引出某人意外的出现)哎哟 | |
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338 prodigal | |
adj.浪费的,挥霍的,放荡的 | |
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