"Well, what are they waiting for?" cried Bordenave on a sudden, tapping the floor savagely3 with his heavy cane5. "Barillot, why don't they begin?"
"It's Monsieur Bosc that has disappeared," replied Barillot, who was acting6 as second stage manager.'
Then there arose a tempest, and everybody shouted for Bosc while Bordenave swore.
"Always the same thing, by God! It's all very well ringing for 'em: they're always where they've no business to be. And then they grumble7 when they're kept till after four o'clock."
But Bosc just then came in with supreme8 tranquillity10.
"Eh? What? What do they want me for? Oh, it's my turn! You ought to have said so. All right! Simonne gives the cue: 'Here are the guests,' and I come in. Which way must I come in?"
"Through the door, of course," cried Fauchery in great exasperation11.
"Yes, but where is the door?"
At this Bordenave fell upon Barillot and once more set to work swearing and hammering the boards with his cane.
"By God! I said a chair was to be put there to stand for the door, and every day we have to get it done again. Barillot! Where's Barillot? Another of 'em! Why, they're all going!"
Nevertheless, Barillot came and planted the chair down in person, mutely weathering the storm as he did so. And the rehearsal12 began again. Simonne, in her hat and furs, began moving about like a maidservant busy arranging furniture. She paused to say:
"I'm not warm, you know, so I keep my hands in my muff."
Then changing her voice, she greeted Bosc with a little cry:
"La, it's Monsieur le Comte. You're the first to come, Monsieur le Comte, and Madame will be delighted."
Bosc had muddy trousers and a huge yellow overcoat, round the collar of which a tremendous comforter was wound. On his head he wore an old hat, and he kept his hands in his pockets. He did not act but dragged himself along, remarking in a hollow voice:
"Don't disturb your mistress, Isabelle; I want to take her by surprise."
The rehearsal took its course. Bordenave knitted his brows. He had slipped down low in his armchair and was listening with an air of fatigue14. Fauchery was nervous and kept shifting about in his seat. Every few minutes he itched15 with the desire to interrupt, but he restrained himself. He heard a whispering in the dark and empty house behind him.
"Is she there?" he asked, leaning over toward Bordenave.
The latter nodded affirmatively. Before accepting the part of Geraldine, which he was offering her, Nana had been anxious to see the piece, for she hesitated to play a courtesan's part a second time. She, in fact, aspired16 to an honest woman's part. Accordingly she was hiding in the shadows of a corner box in company with Labordette, who was managing matters for her with Bordenave. Fauchery glanced in her direction and then once more set himself to follow the rehearsal.
Only the front of the stage was lit up. A flaring17 gas burner on a support, which was fed by a pipe from the footlights, burned in front of a reflector and cast its full brightness over the immediate18 foreground. It looked like a big yellow eye glaring through the surrounding semiobscurity, where it flamed in a doubtful, melancholy19 way. Cossard was holding up his manuscript against the slender stem of this arrangement. He wanted to see more clearly, and in the flood of light his hump was sharply outlined. As to Bordenave and Fauchery, they were already drowned in shadow. It was only in the heart of this enormous structure, on a few square yards of stage, that a faint glow suggested the light cast by some lantern nailed up in a railway station. It made the actors look like eccentric phantoms20 and set their shadows dancing after them. The remainder of the stage was full of mist and suggested a house in process of being pulled down, a church nave1 in utter ruin. It was littered with ladders, with set pieces and with scenery, of which the faded painting suggested heaped-up rubbish. Hanging high in air, the scenes had the appearance of great ragged13 clouts21 suspended from the rafters of some vast old-clothes shop, while above these again a ray of bright sunlight fell from a window and clove22 the shadow round the flies with a bar of gold.
Meanwhile actors were chatting at the back of the stage while awaiting their cues. Little by little they had raised their voices.
"Confound it, will you be silent?" howled Bordenave, raging up and down in his chair. "I can't hear a word. Go outside if you want to talk; WE are at work. Barillot, if there's any more talking I clap on fines all round!"
They were silent for a second or two. They were sitting in a little group on a bench and some rustic23 chairs in the corner of a scenic24 garden, which was standing25 ready to be put in position as it would be used in the opening act the same evening. In the middle of this group Fontan and Prulliere were listening to Rose Mignon, to whom the manager of the Folies-Dramatique Theatre had been making magnificent offers. But a voice was heard shouting:
"The duchess! Saint-Firmin! The duchess and Saint-Firmin are wanted!"
Only when the call was repeated did Prulliere remember that he was Saint-Firmin! Rose, who was playing the Duchess Helene, was already waiting to go on with him while old Bosc slowly returned to his seat, dragging one foot after the other over the sonorous26 and deserted27 boards. Clarisse offered him a place on the bench beside her.
"What's he bawling28 like that for?" she said in allusion29 to Bordenave. "Things will be getting rosy30 soon! A piece can't be put on nowadays without its getting on his nerves."
Bosc shrugged32 his shoulders; he was above such storms. Fontan whispered:
"He's afraid of a fiasco. The piece strikes me as idiotic33."
Then he turned to Clarisse and again referred to what Rose had been telling them:
"D'you believe in the offers of the Folies people, eh? Three hundred francs an evening for a hundred nights! Why not a country house into the bargain? If his wife were to be given three hundred francs Mignon would chuck my friend Bordenave and do it jolly sharp too!"
Clarisse was a believer in the three hundred francs. That man Fontan was always picking holes in his friends' successes! Just then Simonne interrupted her. She was shivering with cold. Indeed, they were all buttoned up to the ears and had comforters on, and they looked up at the ray of sunlight which shone brightly above them but did not penetrate34 the cold gloom of the theater. In the streets outside there was a frost under a November sky.
"And there's no fire in the greenroom!" said Simonne. "It's disgusting; he IS just becoming a skinflint! I want to be off; I don't want to get seedy."
"Silence, I say!" Bordenave once more thundered.
Then for a minute or so a confused murmur35 alone was audible as the actors went on repeating their parts. There was scarcely any appropriate action, and they spoke36 in even tones so as not to tire themselves. Nevertheless, when they did emphasize a particular shade of meaning they cast a glance at the house, which lay before them like a yawning gulf37. It was suffused38 with vague, ambient shadow, which resembled the fine dust floating pent in some high, windowless loft39. The deserted house, whose sole illumination was the twilight40 radiance of the stage, seemed to slumber41 in melancholy and mysterious effacement42. Near the ceiling dense43 night smothered44 the frescoes45, while from the several tiers of stage boxes on either hand huge widths of gray canvas stretched down to protect the neighboring hangings. In fact, there was no end to these coverings; bands of canvas had been thrown over the velvet46-covered ledges47 in front of the various galleries which they shrouded48 thickly. Their pale hue49 stained the surrounding shadows, and of the general decorations of the house only the dark recesses50 of the boxes were distinguishable. These served to outline the framework of the several stories, where the seats were so many stains of red velvet turned black. The chandelier had been let down as far as it would go, and it so filled the region of the stalls with its pendants as to suggest a flitting and to set one thinking that the public had started on a journey from which they would never return.
Just about then Rose, as the little duchess who has been misled into the society of a courtesan, came to the footlights, lifted up her hands and pouted51 adorably at the dark and empty theater, which was as sad as a house of mourning.
"Good heavens, what queer people!" she said, emphasizing the phrase and confident that it would have its effect.
Far back in the corner box in which she was hiding Nana sat enveloped52 in a great shawl. She was listening to the play and devouring53 Rose with her eyes. Turning toward Labordette, she asked him in a low tone:
"You are sure he'll come?"
"Quite sure. Without doubt he'll come with Mignon, so as to have an excuse for coming. As soon as he makes his appearance you'll go up into Mathilde's dressing54 room, and I'll bring him to you there."
They were talking of Count Muffat. Labordette had arranged this interview with him on neutral ground. He had had a serious talk with Bordenave, whose affairs had been gravely damaged by two successive failures. Accordingly Bordenave had hastened to lend him his theater and to offer Nana a part, for he was anxious to win the count's favor and hoped to be able to borrow from him.
"And this part of Geraldine, what d'you thing of it?" continued Labordette.
But Nana sat motionless and vouchsafed55 no reply. After the first act, in which the author showed how the Duc de Beaurivage played his wife false with the blonde Geraldine, a comic-opera celebrity56, the second act witnessed the Duchess Helene's arrival at the house of the actress on the occasion of a masked ball being given by the latter. The duchess has come to find out by what magical process ladies of that sort conquer and retain their husbands' affections. A cousin, the handsome Oscar de Saint-Firmin, introduces her and hopes to be able to debauch57 her. And her first lesson causes her great surprise, for she hears Geraldine swearing like a hodman at the duke, who suffers with most ecstatic submissiveness. The episode causes her to cry out, "Dear me, if that's the way one ought to talk to the men!" Geraldine had scarce any other scene in the act save this one. As to the duchess, she is very soon punished for her curiosity, for an old buck58, the Baron59 de Tardiveau, takes her for a courtesan and becomes very gallant60, while on her other side Beaurivage sits on a lounging chair and makes his peace with Geraldine by dint61 of kisses and caresses62. As this last lady's part had not yet been assigned to anyone, Father Cossard had got up to read it, and he was now figuring away in Bosc's arms and emphasizing it despite himself. At this point, while the rehearsal was dragging monotonously63 on, Fauchery suddenly jumped from his chair. He had restrained himself up to that moment, but now his nerves got the better of him.
"That's not it!" he cried.
The actors paused awkwardly enough while Fontan sneered64 and asked in his most contemptuous voice:
"Eh? What's not it? Who's not doing it right?"
"Nobody is! You're quite wrong, quite wrong!" continued Fauchery, and, gesticulating wildly, he came striding over the stage and began himself to act the scene.
"Now look here, you Fontan, do please comprehend the way Tardiveau gets packed off. You must lean forward like this in order to catch hold of the duchess. And then you, Rose, must change your position like that but not too soon--only when you hear the kiss."
He broke off and in the heat of explanation shouted to Cossard:
"Geraldine, give the kiss! Loudly, so that it may be heard!"
Father Cossard turned toward Bosc and smacked65 his lips vigorously.
"Good! That's the kiss," said Fauchery triumphantly67. "Once more; let's have it once more. Now you see, Rose, I've had time to move, and then I give a little cry--so: 'Oh, she's given him a kiss.' But before I do that, Tardiveau must go up the stage. D'you hear, Fontan? You go up. Come, let's try it again, all together."
The actors continued the scene again, but Fontan played his part with such an ill grace that they made no sort of progress. Twice Fauchery had to repeat his explanation, each time acting it out with more warmth than before. The actors listened to him with melancholy faces, gazed momentarily at one another, as though he had asked them to walk on their heads, and then awkwardly essayed the passage, only to pull up short directly afterward68, looking as stiff as puppets whose strings69 have just been snapped.
"No, it beats me; I can't understand it," said Fontan at length, speaking in the insolent70 manner peculiar71 to him.
Bordenave had never once opened his lips. He had slipped quite down in his armchair, so that only the top of his hat was now visible in the doubtful flicker72 of the gaslight on the stand. His cane had fallen from his grasp and lay slantwise across his waistcoat. Indeed, he seemed to be asleep. But suddenly he sat bolt upright.
"It's idiotic, my boy," he announced quietly to Fauchery.
"What d'you mean, idiotic?" cried the author, growing very pale. "It's you that are the idiot, my dear boy!"
Bordenave began to get angry at once. He repeated the word "idiotic" and, seeking a more forcible expression, hit upon "imbecile" and "damned foolish." The public would hiss73, and the act would never be finished! And when Fauchery, without, indeed, being very deeply wounded by these big phrases, which always recurred74 when a new piece was being put on, grew savage4 and called the other a brute75, Bordenave went beyond all bounds, brandished76 his cane in the air, snorted like a bull and shouted:
"Good God! Why the hell can't you shut up? We've lost a quarter of an hour over this folly77. Yes, folly! There's no sense in it. And it's so simple, after all's said and done! You, Fontan, mustn't move. You, Rose, must make your little movement, just that, no more; d'ye see? And then you come down. Now then, let's get it done this journey. Give the kiss, Cossard."
Then ensued confusion. The scene went no better than before. Bordenave, in his turn, showed them how to act it about as gracefully79 as an elephant might have done, while Fauchery sneered and shrugged pityingly. After that Fontan put his word in, and even Bosc made so bold as to give advice. Rose, thoroughly80 tired out, had ended by sitting down on the chair which indicated the door. No one knew where they had got to, and by way of finish to it all Simonne made a premature81 entry, under the impression that her cue had been given her, and arrived amid the confusion. This so enraged82 Bordenave that he whirled his stick round in a terrific manner and caught her a sounding thwack to the rearward. At rehearsal he used frequently to drub his former mistress. Simonne ran away, and this furious outcry followed her:
"Take that, and, by God, if I'm annoyed again I shut the whole shop up at once!"
Fauchery pushed his hat down over his forehead and pretended to be going to leave the theater. But he stopped at the top of the stage and came down again when he saw Bordenave perspiringly resuming his seat. Then he, too, took up his old position in the other armchair. For some seconds they sat motionless side by side while oppressive silence reigned83 in the shadowy house. The actors waited for nearly two minutes. They were all heavy with exhaustion84 and felt as though hey had performed an overwhelming task.
"Well, let's go on," said Bordenave at last. He spoke in his usual voice and was perfectly85 calm.
"Yes, let's go on," Fauchery repeated. "We'll arrange the scene tomorrow."
And with that they dragged on again and rehearsed their parts with as much listlessness and as fine an indifference86 as ever. During the dispute between manager and author Fontan and the rest had been taking things very comfortably on the rustic bench and seats at the back of the stage, where they had been chuckling87, grumbling88 and saying fiercely cutting things. But when Simonne came back, still smarting from her blow and choking with sobs89, they grew melodramatic and declared that had they been in her place they would have strangled the swine. She began wiping her eyes and nodding approval. It was all over between them, she said. She was leaving him, especially as Steiner had offered to give her a grand start in life only the day before. Clarisse was much astonished at this, for the banker was quite ruined, but Prulliere began laughing and reminded them of the neat manner in which that confounded Israelite had puffed90 himself alongside of Rose in order to get his Landes saltworks afloat on 'change. Just at that time he was airing a new project, namely, a tunnel under the Bosporus. Simonne listened with the greatest interest to this fresh piece of information.
As to Clarisse, she had been raging for a week past. Just fancy, that beast La Faloise, whom she had succeeded in chucking into Gaga's venerable embrace, was coming into the fortune of a very rich uncle! It was just her luck; she had always been destined91 to make things cozy92 for other people. Then, too, that pig Bordenave had once more given her a mere93 scrap94 of a part, a paltry95 fifty lines, just as if she could not have played Geraldine! She was yearning96 for that role and hoping that Nana would refuse it.
"Well, and what about me?" said Prulliere with much bitterness. "I haven't got more than two hundred lines. I wanted to give the part up. It's too bad to make me play that fellow Saint-Firmin; why, it's a regular failure! And then what a style it's written in, my dears! It'll fall dead flat, you may be sure."
But just then Simonne, who had been chatting with Father Barillot, came back breathless and announced:
"By the by, talking of Nana, she's in the house."
"Where, where?" asked Clarisse briskly, getting up to look for her.
The news spread at once, and everyone craned forward. The rehearsal was, as it were, momentarily interrupted. But Bordenave emerged from his quiescent97 condition, shouting:
"What's up, eh? Finish the act, I say. And be quiet out there; it's unbearable99!"
Nana was still following the piece from the corner box. Twice Labordette showed an inclination100 to chat, but she grew impatient and nudged him to make him keep silent. The second act was drawing to a close, when two shadows loomed101 at the back of the theater. They were creeping softly down, avoiding all noise, and Nana recognized Mignon and Count Muffat. They came forward and silently shook hands with Bordenave.
"Ah, there they are," she murmured with a sigh of relief.
Rose Mignon delivered the last sentences of the act. Thereupon Bordenave said that it was necessary to go through the second again before beginning the third. With that he left off attending to the rehearsal and greeted the count with looks of exaggerated politeness, while Fauchery pretended to be entirely102 engrossed103 with his actors, who now grouped themselves round him. Mignon stood whistling carelessly, with his hands behind his back and his eyes fixed104 complacently105 on his wife, who seemed rather nervous.
"Well, shall we go upstairs?" Labordette asked Nana. "I'll install you in the dressing room and come down again and fetch him."
Nana forthwith left the corner box. She had to grope her way along the passage outside the stalls, but Bordenave guessed where she was as she passed along in the dark and caught her up at the end of the corridor passing behind the scenes, a narrow tunnel where the gas burned day and night. Here, in order to bluff106 her into a bargain, he plunged107 into a discussion of the courtesan's part.
"What a part it is, eh? What a wicked little part! It's made for you. Come and rehearse tomorrow."
Nana was frigid108. She wanted to know what the third act was like.
"Oh, it's superb, the third act is! The duchess plays the courtesan in her own house and this disgusts Beaurivage and makes him amend109 his way. Then there's an awfully110 funny QUID PRO2 QUO, when Tardiveau arrives and is under the impression that he's at an opera dancer's house."
"And what does Geraldine do in it all?" interrupted Nana.
"Geraldine?" repeated Bordenave in some embarrassment111. "She has a scene--not a very long one, but a great success. It's made for you, I assure you! Will you sign?"
She looked steadily112 at him and at length made answer:
"We'll see about that all in good time."
And she rejoined Labordette, who was waiting for her on the stairs. Everybody in the theater had recognized her, and there was now much whispering, especially between Prulliere, who was scandalized at her return, and Clarisse who was very desirous of the part. As to Fontan, he looked coldly on, pretending unconcern, for he did not think it becoming to round on a woman he had loved. Deep down in his heart, though, his old love had turned to hate, and he nursed the fiercest rancor113 against her in return for the constant devotion, the personal beauty, the life in common, of which his perverse114 and monstrous115 tastes had made him tire.
In the meantime, when Labordette reappeared and went up to the count, Rose Mignon, whose suspicions Nana's presence had excited, understood it all forthwith. Muffat was bothering her to death, but she was beside herself at the thought of being left like this. She broke the silence which she usually maintained on such subjects in her husband's society and said bluntly:
"You see what's going on? My word, if she tries the Steiner trick on again I'll tear her eyes out!"
Tranquilly116 and haughtily117 Mignon shrugged his shoulders, as became a man from whom nothing could be hidden.
"Do be quiet," he muttered. "Do me the favor of being quiet, won't you?"
He knew what to rely on now. He had drained his Muffat dry, and he knew that at a sign from Nana he was ready to lie down and be a carpet under her feet. There is no fighting against passions such as that. Accordingly, as he knew what men were, he thought of nothing but how to turn the situation to the best possible account.
It would be necessary to wait on the course of events. And he waited on them.
"Rose, it's your turn!" shouted Bordenave. "The second act's being begun again."
"Off with you then," continued Mignon, "and let me arrange matters."
Then he began bantering118, despite all his troubles, and was pleased to congratulate Fauchery on his piece. A very strong piece! Only why was his great lady so chaste119? It wasn't natural! With that he sneered and asked who had sat for the portrait of the Duke of Beaurivage, Geraldine's wornout roue. Fauchery smiled; he was far from annoyed. But Bordenave glanced in Muffat's direction and looked vexed120, and Mignon was struck at this and became serious again.
"Let's begin, for God's sake!" yelled the manager. "Now then, Barillot! Eh? What? Isn't Bosc there? Is he bloody121 well making game of me now?"
Bosc, however, made his appearance quietly enough, and the rehearsal began again just as Labordette was taking the count away with him. The latter was tremulous at the thought of seeing Nana once more. After the rupture122 had taken place between them there had been a great void in his life. He was idle and fancied himself about to suffer through the sudden change his habits had undergone, and accordingly he had let them take him to see Rose. Besides, his brain had been in such a whirl that he had striven to forget everything and had strenuously123 kept from seeking out Nana while avoiding an explanation with the countess. He thought, indeed, that he owed his dignity such a measure of forgetfulness. But mysterious forces were at work within, and Nana began slowly to reconquer him. First came thoughts of her, then fleshly cravings and finally a new set of exclusive, tender, well-nigh paternal124 feelings.
The abominable125 events attendant on their last interview were gradually effacing126 themselves. He no longer saw Fontan; he no longer heard the stinging taunt127 about his wife's adultery with which Nana cast him out of doors. These things were as words whose memory vanished. Yet deep down in his heart there was a poignant128 smart which wrung129 him with such increasing pain that it nigh choked him. Childish ideas would occur to him; he imagined that she would never have betrayed him if he had really loved her, and he blamed himself for this. His anguish130 was becoming unbearable; he was really very wretched. His was the pain of an old wound rather than the blind, present desire which puts up with everything for the sake of immediate possession. He felt a jealous passion for the woman and was haunted by longings131 for her and her alone, her hair, her mouth, her body. When he remembered the sound of her voice a shiver ran through him; he longed for her as a miser132 might have done, with refinements133 of desire beggaring description. He was, in fact, so dolorously134 possessed135 by his passion that when Labordette had begun to broach136 the subject of an assignation he had thrown himself into his arms in obedience137 to irresistible138 impulse. Directly afterward he had, of course, been ashamed of an act of self-abandonment which could not but seem very ridicubus in a man of his position; but Labordette was one who knew when to see and when not to see things, and he gave a further proof of his tact139 when he left the count at the foot of the stairs and without effort let slip only these simple words:
"The right-hand passage on the second floor. The door's not shut."
Muffat was alone in that silent corner of the house. As he passed before the players' waiting room, he had peeped through the open doors and noticed the utter dilapidation140 of the vast chamber141, which looked shamefully142 stained and worn in broad daylight. But what surprised him most as he emerged from the darkness and confusion of the stage was the pure, clear light and deep quiet at present pervading143 the lofty staircase, which one evening when he had seen it before had been bathed in gas fumes144 and loud with the footsteps of women scampering145 over the different floors. He felt that the dressing rooms were empty, the corridors deserted; not a soul was there; not a sound broke the stillness, while through the square windows on the level of the stairs the pale November sunlight filtered and cast yellow patches of light, full of dancing dust, amid the dead, peaceful air which seemed to descend146 from the regions above.
He was glad of this calm and the silence, and he went slowly up, trying to regain147 breath as he went, for his heart was thumping148, and he was afraid lest he might behave childishly and give way to sighs and tears. Accordingly on the first-floor landing he leaned up against a wall--for he was sure of not being observed--and pressed his handkerchief to his mouth and gazed at the warped149 steps, the iron balustrade bright with the friction150 of many hands, the scraped paint on the walls--all the squalor, in fact, which that house of tolerance151 so crudely displayed at the pale afternoon hour when courtesans are asleep. When he reached the second floor he had to step over a big yellow cat which was lying curled up on a step. With half-closed eyes this cat was keeping solitary152 watch over the house, where the close and now frozen odors which the women nightly left behind them had rendered him somnolent153.
In the right-hand corridor the door of the dressing room had, indeed, not been closed entirely. Nana was waiting. That little Mathilde, a drab of a young girl, kept her dressing room in a filthy154 state. Chipped jugs155 stood about anyhow; the dressing table was greasy156, and there was a chair covered with red stains, which looked as if someone had bled over the straw. The paper pasted on walls and ceiling was splashed from top to bottom with spots of soapy water and this smelled so disagreeably of lavender scent98 turned sour that Nana opened the window and for some moments stayed leaning on the sill, breathing the fresh air and craning forward to catch sight of Mme Bron underneath158. She could hear her broom wildly at work on the mildewed159 pantiles of the narrow court which was buried in shadow. A canary, whose cage hung on a shutter160, was trilling away piercingly. The sound of carriages in the boulevard and neighboring streets was no longer audible, and the quiet and the wide expanse of sleeping sunlight suggested the country. Looking farther afield, her eye fell on the small buildings and glass roofs of the galleries in the passage and, beyond these, on the tall houses in the Rue161 Vivienne, the backs of which rose silent and apparently162 deserted over against her. There was a succession of terrace roofs close by, and on one of these a photographer had perched a big cagelike construction of blue glass. It was all very gay, and Nana was becoming absorbed in contemplation, when it struck her someone had knocked at the door.
She turned round and shouted:
"Come in!"
At sight of the count she shut the window, for it was not warm, and there was no need for the eavesdropping163 Mme Bron to listen. The pair gazed at one another gravely. Then as the count still kept standing stiffly in front of her, looking ready to choke with emotion, she burst out laughing and said:
"Well! So you're here again, you silly big beast!"
The tumult164 going on within him was so great that he seemed a man frozen to ice. He addressed Nana as "madame" and esteemed165 himself happy to see her again. Thereupon she became more familiar than ever in order to bounce matters through.
"Don't do it in the dignified166 way! You wanted to see me, didn't you? But you didn't intend us to stand looking at one another like a couple of chinaware dogs. We've both been in the wrong--Oh, I certainly forgive you!"
And herewith they agreed not to talk of that affair again, Muffat nodding his assent167 as Nana spoke. He was calmer now but as yet could find nothing to say, though a thousand things rose tumultuously to his lips. Surprised at his apparent coldness, she began acting a part with much vigor66.
"Come," she continued with a faint smile, "you're a sensible man! Now that we've made our peace let's shake hands and be good friends in future."
"What? Good friends?" he murmured in sudden anxiety.
"Yes; it's idiotic, perhaps, but I should like you to think well of me. We've had our little explanation out, and if we meet again we shan't, at any rate look like a pair of boobies."
He tried to interrupt her with a movement of the hand.
"Let me finish! There's not a man, you understand, able to accuse me of doing him a blackguardly turn; well, and it struck me as horrid168 to begin in your case. We all have our sense of honor, dear boy."
"But that's not my meaning!" he shouted violently. "Sit down--listen to me!" And as though he were afraid of seeing her take her departure, he pushed her down on the solitary chair in the room. Then he paced about in growing agitation169. The little dressing room was airless and full of sunlight, and no sound from the outside world disturbed its pleasant, peaceful, dampish atmosphere. In the pauses of conversation the shrillings of the canary were alone audible and suggested the distant piping of a flute171.
"Listen," he said, planting himself in front of her, "I've come to possess myself of you again. Yes, I want to begin again. You know that well; then why do you talk to me as you do? Answer me; tell me you consent."
Her head was bent172, and she was scratching the blood-red straw of the seat underneath her. Seeing him so anxious, she did not hurry to answer. But at last she lifted up her face. It had assumed a grave expression, and into the beautiful eyes she had succeeded in infusing a look of sadness.
"Oh, it's impossible, little man. Never, never, will I live with you again."
"Why?" he stuttered, and his face seemed contracted in unspeakable suffering.
"Why? Hang it all, because--It's impossible; that's about it. I don't want to."
He looked ardently173 at her for some seconds longer. Then his legs curved under him and he fell on the floor. In a bored voice she added this simple advice:
"Ah, don't be a baby!"
But he was one already. Dropping at her feet, he had put his arms round her waist and was hugging her closely, pressing his face hard against her knees. When he felt her thus--when he once more divined the presence of her velvety174 limbs beneath the thin fabric175 of her dress--he was suddenly convulsed and trembled, as it were, with fever, while madly, savagely, he pressed his face against her knees as though he had been anxious to force through her flesh. The old chair creaked, and beneath the low ceiling, where the air was pungent176 with stale perfumes, smothered sobs of desire were audible.
"Well, ad after?" Nana began saying, letting him do as he would. "All this doesn't help you a bit, seeing that the thing's impossible. Good God, what a child you are!"
His energy subsided177, but he still stayed on the floor, nor did he relax his hold of her as he said in a broken voice:
"Do at least listen to what I came to offer you. I've already seen a town house close to the Parc Monceau--I would gladly realize your smallest wish. In order to have you all to myself, I would give my whole fortune. Yes, that would be my only condition, that I should have you all to myself! Do you understand? And if you were to consent to be mine only, oh, then I should want you to be the loveliest, the richest, woman on earth. I should give you carriages and diamonds and dresses!"
At each successive offer Nana shook her head proudly. Then seeing that he still continued them, that he even spoke of settling money on her--for he was at loss what to lay at her feet--she apparently lost patience.
"Come, come, have you done bargaining with me? I'm a good sort, and I don't mind giving in to you for a minute or two, as your feelings are making you so ill, but I've had enough of it now, haven't I? So let me get up. You're tiring me."
She extricated178 herself from his clasp, and once on her feet:
"No, no, no!" she said. "I don't want to!"
With that he gathered himself up painfully and feebly dropped into a chair, in which he leaned back with his face in his hands. Nana began pacing up and down in her turn. For a second or two she looked at the stained wallpaper, the greasy toilet table, the whole dirty little room as it basked179 in the pale sunlight. Then she paused in front of the count and spoke with quiet directness.
"It's strange how rich men fancy they can have everything for their money. Well, and if I don't want to consent--what then? I don't care a pin for your presents! You might give me Paris, and yet I should say no! Always no! Look here, it's scarcely clean in this room, yet I should think it very nice if I wanted to live in it with you. But one's fit to kick the bucket in your palaces if one isn't in love. Ah, as to money, my poor pet, I can lay my hands on that if I want to, but I tell you, I trample180 on it; I spit on it!"
And with that she assumed a disgusted expression. Then she became sentimental181 and added in a melancholy tone:
"I know of something worth more than money. Oh, if only someone were to give me what I long for!"
He slowly lifted his head, and there was a gleam of hope in his eyes.
"Oh, you can't give it me," she continued; "it doesn't depend on you, and that's the reason I'm talking to you about it. Yes, we're having a chat, so I may as well mention to you that I should like to play the part of the respectable woman in that show of theirs."
"What respectable woman?" he muttered in astonishment182.
"Why, their Duchess Helene! If they think I'm going to play Geraldine, a part with nothing in it, a scene and nothing besides--if they think that! Besides, that isn't the reason. The fact is I've had enough of courtesans. Why, there's no end to 'em! They'll be fancying I've got 'em on the brain; to be sure they will! Besides, when all's said and done, it's annoying, for I can quite see they seem to think me uneducated. Well, my boy, they're jolly well in the dark about it, I can tell you! When I want to be a perfect lady, why then I am a swell183, and no mistake! Just look at this."
And she withdrew as far as the window and then came swelling184 back with the mincing185 gait and circumspect186 air of a portly hen that fears to dirty her claws. As to Muffat, he followed her movements with eyes still wet with tears. He was stupefied by this sudden transition from anguish to comedy. She walked about for a moment or two in order the more thoroughly to show off her paces, and as she walked she smiled subtlely, closed her eyes demurely187 and managed her skirts with great dexterity188. Then she posted herself in front of him again.
"I guess I've hit it, eh?"
"Oh, thoroughly," he stammered189 with a broken voice and a troubled expression.
"I tell you I've got hold of the honest woman! I've tried at my own place. Nobody's got my little knack190 of looking like a duchess who don't care a damn for the men. Did you notice it when I passed in front of you? Why, the thing's in my blood! Besides, I want to play the part of an honest woman. I dream about it day and night--I'm miserable191 about it. I must have the part, d'you hear?"
And with that she grew serious, speaking in a hard voice and looking deeply moved, for she was really tortured by her stupid, tiresome192 wish. Muffat, still smarting from her late refusals, sat on without appearing to grasp her meaning. There was a silence during which the very flies abstained193 from buzzing through the quiet, empty place.
"Now, look here," she resumed bluntly, "you're to get them to give me the part."
He was dumfounded, and with a despairing gesture:
"Oh, it's impossible! You yourself were saying just now that it didn't depend on me."
She interrupted him with a shrug31 of the shoulders.
"You'll just go down, and you'll tell Bordenave you want the part. Now don't be such a silly! Bordenave wants money--well, you'll lend him some, since you can afford to make ducks and drakes of it."
And as he still struggled to refuse her, she grew angry.
"Very well, I understand; you're afraid of making Rose angry. I didn't mention the woman when you were crying down on the floor--I should have had too much to say about it all. Yes, to be sure, when one has sworn to love a woman forever one doesn't usually take up with the first creature that comes by directly after. Oh, that's where the shoe pinches, I remember! Well, dear boy, there's nothing very savory194 in the Mignon's leavings! Oughtn't you to have broken it off with that dirty lot before coming and squirming on my knees?"
He protested vaguely195 and at last was able to get out a phrase.
"Oh, I don't care a jot196 for Rose; I'll give her up at once."
Nana seemed satisfied on this point. She continued:
"Well then, what's bothering you? Bordenave's master here. You'll tell me there's Fauchery after Bordenave--"
She had sunk her voice, for she was coming to the delicate part of the matter. Muffat sat silent, his eyes fixed on the ground. He had remained voluntarily ignorant of Fauchery's assiduous attentions to the countess, and time had lulled197 his suspicions and set him hoping that he had been deceiving himself during that fearful night passed in a doorway198 of the Rue Taitbout. But he still felt a dull, angry repugnance199 to the man.
"Well, what then? Fauchery isn't the devil!" Nana repeated, feeling her way cautiously and trying to find out how matters stood between husband and lover. "One can get over his soft side. I promise you, he's a good sort at bottom! So it's a bargain, eh? You'll tell him that it's for my sake?"
The idea of taking such a step disgusted the count.
"No, no! Never!" he cried.
She paused, and this sentence was on the verge200 of utterance201:
"Fauchery can refuse you nothing."
But she felt that by way of argument it was rather too much of a good thing. So she only smiled a queer smile which spoke as plainly as words. Muffat had raised his eyes to her and now once more lowered them, looking pale and full of embarrassment.
"Ah, you're not good natured," she muttered at last.
"I cannot," he said with a voice and a look of the utmost anguish. "I'll do whatever you like, but not that, dear love! Oh, I beg you not to insist on that!"
Thereupon she wasted no more time in discussion but took his head between her small hands, pushed it back a little, bent down and glued her mouth to his in a long, long kiss. He shivered violently; he trembled beneath her touch; his eyes were closed, and he was beside himself. She lifted him to his feet.
"Go," said she simply.
He walked off, making toward the door. But as he passed out she took him in her arms again, became meek202 and coaxing203, lifted her face to his and rubbed her cheek against his waistcoat, much as a cat might have done.
"Where's the fine house?" she whispered in laughing embarrassment, like a little girl who returns to the pleasant things she has previously204 refused.
"In the Avenue de Villiers."
"And there are carriages there?"
"Yes."
"Lace? Diamonds?"
"Yes."
"Oh, how good you are, my old pet! You know it was all jealousy205 just now! And this time I solemnly promise you it won't be like the first, for now you understand what's due to a woman. You give all, don't you? Well then, I don't want anybody but you! Why, look here, there's some more for you! There and there AND there!"
When she had pushed him from the room after firing his blood with a rain of kisses on hands and on face, she panted awhile. Good heavens, what an unpleasant smell there was in that slut Mathilde's dressing room! It was warm, if you will, with the tranquil9 warmth peculiar to rooms in the south when the winter sun shines into them, but really, it smelled far too strong of stale lavender water, not to mention other less cleanly things! She opened the window and, again leaning on the window sill, began watching the glass roof of the passage below in order to kill time.
Muffat went staggering downstairs. His head was swimming. What should he say? How should he broach the matter which, moreover, did not concern him? He heard sounds of quarreling as he reached the stage. The second act was being finished, and Prulliere was beside himself with wrath206, owing to an attempt on Fauchery's part to cut short one of his speeches.
"Cut it all out then," he was shouting. "I should prefer that! Just fancy, I haven't two hundred lines, and they're still cutting me down. No, by Jove, I've had enough of it; I give the part up."
He took a little crumpled207 manuscript book out of his pocket and fingered its leaves feverishly208, as though he were just about to throw it on Cossard's lap. His pale face was convulsed by outraged209 vanity; his lips were drawn210 and thin, his eyes flamed; he was quite unable to conceal211 the struggle that was going on inside him. To think that he, Prulliere, the idol212 of the public, should play a part of only two hundred lines!
"Why not make me bring in letters on a tray?" he continued bitterly.
"Come, come, Prulliere, behave decently," said Bordenave, who was anxious to treat him tenderly because of his influence over the boxes. "Don't begin making a fuss. We'll find some points. Eh, Fauchery, you'll add some points? In the third act it would even be possible to lengthen213 a scene out."
"Well then, I want the last speech of all," the comedian214 declared. "I certainly deserve to have it."
Fauchery's silence seemed to give consent, and Prulliere, still greatly agitated215 and discontented despite everything, put his part back into his pocket. Bosc and Fontan had appeared profoundly indifferent during the course of this explanation. Let each man fight for his own hand, they reflected; the present dispute had nothing to do with them; they had no interest therein! All the actors clustered round Fauchery and began questioning him and fishing for praise, while Mignon listened to the last of Prulliere's complaints without, however, losing sight of Count Muffat, whose return he had been on the watch for.
Entering in the half-light, the count had paused at the back of the stage, for he hesitated to interrupt the quarrel. But Bordenave caught sight of him and ran forward.
"Aren't they a pretty lot?" he muttered. "You can have no idea what I've got to undergo with that lot, Monsieur le Comte. Each man's vainer than his neighbor, and they're wretched players all the same, a scabby lot, always mixed up in some dirty business or other! Oh, they'd be delighted if I were to come to smash. But I beg pardon--I'm getting beside myself."
He ceased speaking, and silence reigned while Muffat sought how to broach his announcement gently. But he failed and, in order to get out of his difficulty the more quickly, ended by an abrupt216 announcement:
"Nana wants the duchess's part."
Bordenave gave a start and shouted:
"Come now, it's sheer madness!"
Then looking at the count and finding him so pale and so shaken, he was calm at once.
"Devil take it!" he said simply.
And with that there ensued a fresh silence. At bottom he didn't care a pin about it. That great thing Nana playing the duchess might possibly prove amusing! Besides, now that this had happened he had Muffat well in his grasp. Accordingly he was not long in coming to a decision, and so he turned round and called out:
"Fauchery!"
The count had been on the point of stopping him. But Fauchery did not hear him, for he had been pinned against the curtain by Fontan and was being compelled to listen patiently to the comedian's reading of the part of Tardiveau. Fontan imagined Tardiveau to be a native of Marseilles with a dialect, and he imitated the dialect. He was repeating whole speeches. Was that right? Was this the thing? Apparently he was only submitting ideas to Fauchery of which he was himself uncertain, but as the author seemed cold and raised various objections, he grew angry at once.
Oh, very well, the moment the spirit of the part escaped him it would be better for all concerned that he shouldn't act it at all!
"Fauchery!" shouted Bordenave once more.
Thereupon the young man ran off, delighted to escape from the actor, who was wounded not a little by his prompt retreat.
"Don't let's stay here," continued Bordenave. "Come this way, gentlemen."
In order to escape from curious listeners he led them into the property room behind the scenes, while Mignon watched their disappearance217 in some surprise. They went down a few steps and entered a square room, whose two windows opened upon the courtyard. A faint light stole through the dirty panes218 and hung wanly219 under the low ceiling. In pigeonholes220 and shelves, which filled the whole place up, lay a collection of the most varied221 kind of bric-a-brac. Indeed, it suggested an old-clothes shop in the Rue de Lappe in process of selling off, so indescribable was the hotchpotch of plates, gilt222 pasteboard cups, old red umbrellas, Italian jars, clocks in all styles, platters and inkpots, firearms and squirts, which lay chipped and broken and in unrecognizable heaps under a layer of dust an inch deep. An unendurable odor of old iron, rags and damp cardboard emanated223 from the various piles, where the debris224 of forgotten dramas had been collecting for half a century.
"Come in," Bordenave repeated. "We shall be alone, at any rate."
The count was extremely embarrassed, and he contrived225 to let the manager risk his proposal for him. Fauchery was astonished.
"Eh? What?" he asked.
"Just this," said Bordenave finally. "An idea has occurred to us. Now whatever you do, don't jump! It's most serious. What do you think of Nana for the duchess's part?"
The author was bewildered; then he burst out with:
"Ah no, no! You're joking, aren't you? People would laugh far too much."
"Well, and it's a point gained already if they do laugh! Just reflect, my dear boy. The idea pleases Monsieur le Comte very much."
In order to keep himself in countenance226 Muffat had just picked out of the dust on a neighboring shelf an object which he did not seem to recognize. It was an eggcup, and its stem had been mended with plaster. He kept hold of it unconsciously and came forward, muttering:
"Yes, yes, it would be capital."
Fauchery turned toward him with a brisk, impatient gesture. The count had nothing to do with his piece, and he said decisively:
"Never! Let Nana play the courtesan as much as she likes, but a lady--No, by Jove!"
"You are mistaken, I assure you," rejoined the count, growing bolder. "This very minute she has been playing the part of a pure woman for my benefit."
"Where?" queried227 Fauchery with growing surprise.
"Upstairs in a dressing room. Yes, she has, indeed, and with such distinction! She's got a way of glancing at you as she goes by you--something like this, you know!"
And eggcup in hand, he endeavored to imitate Nana, quite forgetting his dignity in his frantic228 desire to convince the others. Fauchery gazed at him in a state of stupefaction. He understood it all now, and his anger had ceased. The count felt that he was looking at him mockingly and pityingly, and he paused with a slight blush on his face.
"Egad, it's quite possible!" muttered the author complaisantly. "Perhaps she would do very well, only the part's been assigned. We can't take it away from Rose."
"Oh, if that's all the trouble," said Bordenave, "I'll undertake to arrange matters."
But presently, seeing them both against him and guessing that Bordenave had some secret interest at stake, the young man thought to avoid aquiescence by redoubling the violence of his refusal. The consultation229 was on the verge of being broken up.
"Oh, dear! No, no! Even if the part were unassigned I should never give it her! There, is that plain? Do let me alone; I have no wish to ruin my play!"
He lapsed230 into silent embarrassment. Bordenave, deeming himself DE TROP, went away, but the count remained with bowed head. He raised it with an effort and said in a breaking voice:
"Supposing, my dear fellow, I were to ask this of you as a favor?"
"I cannot, I cannot," Fauchery kept repeating as he writhed231 to get free.
Muffat's voice became harder.
"I pray and beseech232 you for it! I want it!"
And with that he fixed his eyes on him. The young man read menaces in that darkling gaze and suddenly gave way with a splutter of confused phrases:
"Do what you like--I don't care a pin about it. Yes, yes, you're abusing your power, but you'll see, you'll see!"
At this the embarrassment of both increased. Fauchery was leaning up against a set of shelves and was tapping nervously233 on the ground with his foot. Muffat seemed busy examining the eggcup, which he was still turning round and about.
"It's an eggcup," Bordenave obligingly came and remarked.
"Yes, to be sure! It's an eggeup," the count repeated.
"Excuse me, you're covered with dust," continued the manager, putting the thing back on a shelf. "If one had to dust every day there'd be no end to it, you understand. But it's hardly clean here--a filthy mess, eh? Yet you may believe me or not when I tell you there's money in it. Now look, just look at all that!"
He walked Muffat round in front of the pigeonholes and shelves and in the greenish light which filtered through the courtyard, told him the names of different properties, for he was anxious to interest him in his marine-stores inventory234, as he jocosely235 termed it.
Presently, when they had returned into Fauchery's neighborhood, he said carelessly enough:
"Listen, since we're all of one mind, we'll finish the matter at once. Here's Mignon, just when he's wanted."
For some little time past Mignon had been prowling in the adjoining passage, and the very moment Bordenave began talking of a modification236 of their agreement he burst into wrathful protest. It was infamous--they wanted to spoil his wife's career--he'd go to law about it! Bordenave, meanwhile, was extremely calm and full of reasons. He did not think the part worthy237 of Rose, and he preferred to reserve her for an operetta, which was to be put on after the Petite Duchesse. But when her husband still continued shouting he suddenly offered to cancel their arrangement in view of the offers which the Folies-Dramatiques had been making the singer. At this Mignon was momenrarily put out, so without denying the truth of these offers he loudly professed238 a vast disdain239 for money. His wife, he said, had been engaged to play the Duchess Helene, and she would play the part even if he, Mignon, were to be ruined over it. His dignity, his honor, were at stake! Starting from this basis, the discussion grew interminable. The manager, however, always returned to the following argument: since the Folies had offered Rose three hundred francs a night during a hundred performances, and since she only made a hundred and fifty with him, she would be the gainer by fifteen thousand francs the moment he let her depart. The husband, on his part, did not desert the artist's position. What would people say if they saw his wife deprived of her part? Why, that she was not equal to it; that it had been deemed necessary to find a substitute for her! And this would do great harm to Rose's reputation as an artist; nay240, it would diminish it. Oh no, no! Glory before gain! Then without a word of warning he pointed241 out a possible arrangement: Rose, according to the terms of her agreement, was pledged to pay a forfeit242 of ten thousand francs in case she gave up the part. Very well then, let them give her ten thousand francs, and she would go to the Folies-Dramatiques. Bordenave was utterly243 dumfounded while Mignon, who had never once taken his eyes off the count, tranquilly awaited results.
"Then everything can be settled," murmured Muffat in tones of relief; "we can come to an understanding."
"The deuce, no! That would be too stupid!" cried Bordenave, mastered by his commercial instincts. "Ten thousand francs to let Rose go! Why, people would make game of me!"
But the count, with a multiplicity of nods, bade him accept. He hesitated, and at last with much grumbling and infinite regret over the ten thousand francs which, by the by, were not destined to come out of his own pocket he bluntly continued:
"After all, I consent. At any rate, I shall have you off my hands."
For a quarter of an hour past Fontan had been listening in the courtyard. Such had been his curiosity that he had come down and posted himself there, but the moment he understood the state of the case he went upstairs again and enjoyed the treat of telling Rose. Dear me! They were just haggling244 in her behalf! He dinned245 his words into her ears; she ran off to the property room. They were silent as she entered. She looked at the four men. Muffat hung his head; Fauchery answered her questioning glance with a despairing shrug of the shoulders; as to Mignon, he was busy discussing the terms of the agreement with Bordenave.
"What's up?" she demanded curtly246.
"Nothing," said her husband. "Bordenave here is giving ten thousand francs in order to get you to give up your part."
She grew tremulous with anger and very pale, and she clenched247 her little fists. For some moments she stared at him, her whole nature in revolt. Ordinarily in matters of business she was wont248 to trust everything obediently to her husband, leaving him to sign agreements with managers and lovers. Now she could but cry:
"Oh, come, you're too base for anything!"
The words fell like a lash157. Then she sped away, and Mignon, in utter astonishment, ran after her. What next? Was she going mad? He began explaining to her in low tones that ten thousand francs from one party and fifteen thousand from the other came to twenty-five thousand. A splendid deal! Muffat was getting rid of her in every sense of the word; it was a pretty trick to have plucked him of this last feather! But Rose in her anger vouchsafed no answer. Whereupon Mignon in disdain left her to her feminine spite and, turning to Bordenave, who was once more on the stage with Fauchery and Muffat, said:
"We'll sign tomorrow morning. Have the money in readiness."
At this moment Nana, to whom Labordette had brought the news, came down to the stage in triumph. She was quite the honest woman now and wore a most distinguished249 expression in order to overwhelm her friends and prove to the idiots that when she chose she could give them all points in the matter of smartness. But she nearly got into trouble, for at the sight of her Rose darted250 forward, choking with rage and stuttering:
"Yes, you, I'll pay you out! Things can't go on like this; d'you understand?" Nana forgot herself in face of this brisk attack and was going to put her arms akimbo and give her what for. But she controlled herself and, looking like a marquise who is afraid of treading on an orange peel, fluted251 in still more silvery tones.
"Eh, what?" said she. "You're mad, my dear!"
And with that she continued in her graceful78 affectation while Rose took her departure, followed by Mignon, who now refused to recognize her. Clarisse was enraptured252, having just obtained the part of Geraldine from Bordenave. Fauchery, on the other hand, was gloomy; he shifted from one foot to the other; he could not decide whether to leave the theater or no. His piece was bedeviled, and he was seeking how best to save it. But Nana came up, took him by both hands and, drawing him toward her, asked whether he thought her so very atrocious after all. She wasn't going to eat his play--not she! Then she made him laugh and gave him to understand that he would be foolish to be angry with her, in view of his relationship to the Muffats. If, she said, her memory failed her she would take her lines from the prompter. The house, too, would be packed in such a way as to ensure applause. Besides, he was mistaken about her, and he would soon see how she would rattle253 through her part. By and by it was arranged that the author should make a few changes in the role of the duchess so as to extend that of Prulliere. The last-named personage was enraptured. Indeed, amid all the joy which Nana now quite naturally diffused254, Fontan alone remained unmoved. In the middle of the yellow lamplight, against which the sharp outline offa, there were twenty thousand francs' worth of POINT DE VENISE lace. The furniture was lacquered blue and white under designs in silver filigree255, and everywhere lay such numbers of white bearskins that they hid the carpet. This was a luxurious256 caprice on Nana's part, she having never been able to break herself of the habit of sitting on the floor to take her stockings off. Next door to the bedroom the little saloon was full of an amusing medley257 of exquisitely258 artistic259 objects. Against the hangings of pale rose-colored silk--a faded Turkish rose color, embroidered260 with gold thread--a whole world of them stood sharply outlined. They were from every land and in every possible style. There were Italian cabinets, Spanish and Portuguese261 coffers, models of Chinese pagodas262, a Japanese screen of precious workmanship, besides china, bronzes, embroidered silks, his goatlike profile shone out with great distinctness, he stood showing off his figure and affecting the pose of one who has been cruelly abandoned. Nana went quietly up and shook hands with him.
"How are you getting on?"
"Oh, pretty fairly. And how are you?"
"Very well, thank you."That was all. They seemed to have only parted at the doors of the theater the day before. Meanwhile the players were waiting about, but Bordenave said that the third act would not be rehearsed. And so it chanced that old Bosc went grumbling away at the proper time, whereas usually the company were needlessly detained and lost whole afternoons in consequence. Everyone went off. Down on the pavement they were blinded by the broad daylight and stood blinking their eyes in a dazed sort of way, as became people who had passed three hours squabbling with tight-strung nerves in the depths of a cellar. The count, with racked limbs and vacant brain, got into a conveyance263 with Nana, while Labordette took Fauchery off and comforted him.
A month later the first night of the Petite Duchesse proved supremely264 disastrous265 to Nana. She was atrociously bad and displayed such pretentions toward high comedy that the public grew mirthful. They did not hiss--they were too amused. From a stage box Rose Mignon kept greeting her rival's successive entrances with a shrill170 laugh, which set the whole house off. It was the beginning of her revenge. Accordingly, when at night Nana, greatly chagrined266, found herself alone with Muffat, she said furiously:
"What a conspiracy267, eh? It's all owing to jealousy. Oh, if they only knew how I despise 'em! What do I want them for nowadays? Look here! I'll bet a hundred louis that I'll bring all those who made fun today and make 'em lick the ground at my feet! Yes, I'll fine-lady your Paris for you, I will!"
游艺剧院里正在排演《小公爵夫人》,第一幕刚刚排演完毕,第二幕即将开始。福什利和博尔德纳夫坐在舞台口的旧扶手椅上,正在谈论剧中的问题。提台词的矮个子驼背老头科萨尔坐在一张草垫椅子上,嘴上咬住一支铅笔,在翻阅剧本手稿。
“喂,还等什么?”博尔德纳夫忽然嚷道,一边用他那粗大的手杖愤怒地敲着地板,“巴里约,为什么还不开始?”
“博斯克先生不知到哪里去了,”巴里约回答道,“他是舞台副监督。”
这下可引起一场风波。大家都叫唤博斯克,博尔德纳夫破口骂道:
“他妈的!还是老样子。摇铃也没有用,他们老是到不该去的地方……可是,如果排演过了四点钟,他们就嘀嘀咕咕。”
这时博斯克大摇大摆回来了。
“嗯?什么?要我干什么?啊!轮到我出场啦!早该告诉我一声嘛……好吧,西蒙娜说到末尾那句台词‘客人们来了。’
我就上场……我该从哪儿上场呢?”
“当然是从门口上场喽。”福什利恼怒地说。
“对,但是门在哪儿呢?”
这次,博尔德纳夫把火发泄到巴里约身上,他又骂起来,并用手杖猛敲地板,简直要把地板敲穿了。
“他妈的!我说过要放一张椅子表示门在那儿。每天都应该重新安排好……巴里约呢?巴里约在哪儿?又一个人不见了!他们全都溜啦!”
巴里约亲自搬一张椅子来,放到地板上,听到博尔德纳夫那暴风雨般的咒骂声,他驼着背,一声不吭。排演开始了。西蒙娜戴着帽子,身穿一件裘皮大衣,她摆出一副女仆的样子,正在收拾家具。她停下来说道:
“你们知道,我并不感觉暖和,我要把手放在手笼里。”
说完,她换了演戏的语气,轻轻叫了一声,欢迎博斯克:“瞧!原来是伯爵先生。你是第一个到的,伯爵先生,太太一定会很高兴的。”
博斯克穿着一条泥迹斑斑的裤子和一件宽大的黄色大衣,头戴一顶旧帽子,脖子上围着一条大围巾。他两只手插在口袋里,用拖得长长的低沉的声音一本正经地说道:
“别惊动你的主人,伊莎贝尔;我想去吓吓她。”
排演还在继续进行。博尔德纳夫面有愠色,把身子缩在椅子里,面带倦容地听着。福什利则烦躁不安,在椅子里不停地动着,心里时刻发痒,想打断排演,但还是忍耐住了。在他身后,大厅里黑魆魆、空荡荡的,他听见一阵窃窃私语声。
“她来了吗?”他侧着身子,问博尔德纳夫。
博尔德纳夫只点头作答。他让娜娜演热拉尔迪娜这个角色,但是娜娜想先看看戏再说,因为她对是否还演荡妇,心里有点迟疑不决。她盼望扮演正经女人。她和拉博德特坐在楼下一个黑魆魆的包厢里;拉博德特尽量为她帮忙,在博尔德纳夫面前替她说情。福什利用目光寻找了她一下,马上又继续看排演。
全场只有舞台口的灯亮着。那里只有一盏小灯,是安装在脚灯分叉处的一个煤气灯头,它的光亮照在一面反射镜上,光亮全部反射到台口。煤气灯头的光焰在昏暗中,犹如一只睁大的黄色眼睛,无精打采地闪烁着。科萨尔把剧本手稿捧得高高的,身子贴近细长的灯杆,这样看得更清楚一些,他的背正好在灯光下,显得更加驼了。博尔德纳夫和福什利已经隐没在黑暗中。舞台犹如一艘硕大无朋的船只,那盏灯酷似挂在泊船站上的一根柱子上的风灯,微弱的灯光只照亮船中间方圆几米的一块地方。演员们在灯光下,像一个个怪模怪样的幻影,他们的身影在不停晃动着。舞台的其余部分是一片茫茫烟雾,颇像一片拆除建筑物的工地,也像一座倒塌了的教堂。梯子、架子、布景塞满地面,布景全都褪了色,就像一堆堆废弃物;挂在空中的布景,看上去像大估衣店里挂在屋梁上的破布。在空中布景的高处,一束阳光从窗户射进来,像一根金棒劈断舞台上空的黑暗。
在舞台后边,演员们一边闲聊,一边等待上场。他们讲话的声音渐渐大起来。
“喂,瞧你们这个样子,住嘴好吧!”博尔德纳夫从椅子上跳起来,大声吼道,“我一句话也听不见……你们要说话就滚出去说;我们这边正在有事……巴里约,如果还有人讲话,不管什么人,都要罚款!”
演员们安静了片刻。他们聚拢到一起,坐在一条长凳和几张简陋椅子上。那些椅凳是晚上演第一幕时的布景,要放在花园布景的一个角落上,现在正准备安放。丰唐和普律利埃尔在听罗丝·米尼翁讲话,她说游乐剧院的经理刚刚表示愿以高额报酬聘请她。这时听见一个人喊道:
“公爵夫人!……圣菲尔曼!……公爵夫人和圣菲尔曼上场喽!”
听到叫唤第二遍时,普律利埃尔才想起自己是演圣菲尔曼的,罗丝扮演公爵夫人埃莱娜,她正在等他一道上场。博斯克老头在空荡、发出响声的地板上慢慢地拖着脚步,走回台后。克拉利瑟见他来了,连忙给他让出半条长凳。
“他为什么那样咆哮?”克拉利瑟问道,她说的是博尔德纳夫,“马上排演秩序就会好的……现在,不管排演哪出戏他都要发火。”
博斯克耸耸肩膀,他是不管这些大吵大闹的。丰唐低声说道:
“因为他预感到这出戏要失败。我看这出戏差劲。”
说完,他又对克拉利瑟说起罗丝的事:
“嗯?游乐剧院愿出大价钱,你相信吗?……每晚三百法郎,连演一百场,为什么不说还要送她一座乡间别墅呢!如果每晚真的付给米尼翁老婆三百法郎,他早就干净利落地把博尔德纳夫一脚踢开喽!”
克拉利瑟相信每晚三百法郎是真的。这个丰唐总是喜欢在背后诽谤自己的同事!这时,西蒙娜打断了他俩的谈话。她冷得全身直打哆嗦。大家都把衣扣扣得紧紧的,脖子上还围着围巾,仰头望着空中闪烁的阳光,可是阳光却照不到阴暗、冷冰冰的舞台上。外边已经结冰了,已经是十一月份了,天空一片晴朗。
“休息室里没有生火!”西蒙娜说道,“真讨厌,他成了阿巴贡了!……我真想走,我不愿在这里冻出病来。”
“安静!”博尔德纳夫又大声吼道,那吼声酷似雷声。
于是,有好几分钟时间,只听见演员们含糊不清地朗诵台词的声音。他们几乎不做动作,语调平直,尽量省点气力。然而,每当他们演到要引人注意的地方时,便举目向大厅里扫视几下。他们面前的大厅,像一个大洞,里面飘动着一片模糊的影子,也像一间没有窗户的高高的阁楼,里面飘着微尘。大厅里的灯全熄灭了,它仅被舞台上的若明若暗的灯光照亮,仿佛沉睡了,里面的一切看上去模糊不清,一派凄凉景象,令人不安。天花板上的画全都隐没在黑暗中。舞台左右两边的包厢,从上到下挂着大幅灰布,用来保护墙饰。一切东西都套上罩布,连栏杆上的丝绒套上都盖上罩布,整个楼座像裹上了双层裹尸布,罩布的灰白色与大厅里的一片黑暗显得很不协调。整个大厅里都是褪了色的色调,只能隐约看见凹陷进去的、光线暗淡的包厢,包厢构成了每一层楼的骨架,里面的坐椅像一个个黑点,坐椅上的大红丝绒看上去几乎是黑色。大吊灯完全放下来了,它的水晶坠子占据了全部正厅前座,这种景象令人联想到搬家,联想到观众出外旅行,他们再也不会回来了。
就在这时候,由罗丝扮演的小公爵夫人,误入一个妓女家里,她向脚灯处走去。她举起双手,向着大厅撅起逗人的小嘴,空荡的大厅里一片漆黑,像灵堂里一样阴森。
“我的上帝!这个世界是多么奇怪啊!”她说这句话时,加重了语气,确信能在观众中产生良好的效果。
娜娜裹着一条宽大的披肩,躲在包厢里听着排演,两眼却盯住罗丝。她转过身子,悄声问拉博德特:
“你能肯定他会来吗?”
“完全可以肯定。他可能跟米尼翁一起来,这样好有个借口……他一来时,你就到楼上马蒂尔德的化妆室里去,我把他带到那儿去见见你。”
他们说的是缪法伯爵。这是由拉博德特安排的在第三者处的一次会面。这事他早已跟博尔德纳夫一本正经地说过了。博尔德纳夫已有两次演出失败,现在处境艰难。因此,他急于把剧院提供给他们,作为他们会面的场所,并让娜娜扮演一个角色,企图讨好伯爵,向他借一笔钱。
“热拉尔迪娜这个角色,你认为怎样?”拉博德特又说道。但是,娜娜不动声色,没有回答他的问题。第一幕里,作者描写了德·博里瓦热公爵欺骗他的妻子,与金发女郎、轻歌剧明星热拉尔迪娜通奸;在第二幕里,公爵夫人埃莱娜一天晚上来到女明星家里,想利用化装舞会的机会,了解这些太太究竟用什么妙计征服她们的丈夫,并把他们留在身边。带她来的是她的表兄、美男子奥斯卡·德·圣菲尔曼,他想诱使她堕落。她得到的第一个教训使她大为吃惊,她听到热拉尔迪娜像个泼妇,跟公爵大吵大闹,而公爵呢,却很温顺,以笑脸相待;公爵夫人不禁大声叫起来:“噢!对男人应该是这样讲话!”在第二幕里,热拉尔迪娜只在这场戏中出现。至于公爵夫人,她的好奇心立即受到了惩罚:老风流德·塔迪沃男爵把她当成轻佻女人,狂热地追求她;而在另一边,博里瓦热坐在一张长椅子上,亲吻着热拉尔迪娜,与她言归于好了。因为这个角色排演时还没有人担任,就由科萨尔老头站起来念台词,他念着念着,根据自己的想象,不由自主地加进了自己的意思,他是倒在博斯克的怀里演这场戏的。整个排演拖拖拉拉,令人乏味,演到这里时,福什利霍地从椅子上站起来。他一直耐着性子,现在再也忍不住了。
“演得不对!”他叫道。
这时演员们停止了排演,个个垂着双手。丰唐皱皱鼻子,脸上露出嘲讽大家的神态,他问道:
“什么?怎么不是这样?”
“没有一个人演得对,根本不是这样,根本不是这样!”福什利补充道。他做起手势,大步走来走去,亲自表演起来。“喂,丰唐,你应该知道塔迪沃这时很激动;你应该弯下身子,用这样的动作抓住公爵夫人……而你呢,罗丝,这时应当愣一下,猛然愣一下,像这样,但是不要愣得过早,要在听到接吻的声音时才……”
福什利解释得正起劲时,霍地停下来,对科萨尔大声说道:
“热拉尔迪娜,接吻吧……吻得响一些,让大家都听见!”
科萨尔老头向博斯克转过脸去,在他的嘴唇上猛亲一下。
“亲得好,这才是真正的接吻,”福什利得意洋洋地说,“再吻一次……看见没有,罗丝?我刚才走过时看见了,我轻轻地叫一声:‘啊!她吻他了。’不过,要练好这个动作,塔迪沃应当再上场一次……来吧!试试看,整个重来一次。”
演员们重新排演这场戏。但是丰唐内心很不乐意,以致这场戏几乎排不下去。福什利不得不再重新指导两次,而且每次都表现出很大的热情。演员们都没精打采地听他讲,大家你瞧瞧我,我瞧瞧你,好像福什利要求他们低头走路似的;随后,他们刚笨拙地试演,马上又停下来,动作呆板得像断了线的木偶。
“不行,这对我来说太难了,我真不明白为什么要这样。”
丰唐终于用傲慢的口气说道。
博尔德纳夫没有开口。他把身子紧紧地缩在椅子里,在那盏小灯的昏暗光亮下,大家只看见他的帽顶,帽子卡在他的眼睛上,手杖从手上落了下来,横放在肚子上;大家真以为他睡着了。这时,他突然把身子坐直了,说道:
“小伙计,你真愚蠢。”他心平气和地对福什利说。
“怎么!愚蠢!”作者脸色变得煞白,大声嚷道,“你自己才愚蠢呢,亲爱的!”
博尔德纳夫顿时勃然大怒。他又连说几次“愚蠢”,他在脑子里搜索比“愚蠢”两个字更加恶毒的字眼,找到了“低能”和“傻瓜”两个词来谩骂福什利。大家要起哄了,这样下去,这出戏是排演不到底的。他们每次排演一出新戏,这类粗话在他们之间是经常骂来骂去的,福什利并不觉得受到伤害,可是这一次他确实恼火了,他干脆骂博尔德纳夫是畜生。博尔德纳夫气得控制不住自己,把手杖抡得团团转,他像牛一样喘着气,嚷道:
“他妈的!让我安静点……你说了那么多蠢话,让我们白白浪费了一刻钟……你确实说了很多蠢话,你连常识都不懂……事实上,这是再简单不过的事!丰唐,你别动。罗丝,你稍微动一下,别动得厉害,你知道吧,然后你走下来……好了,这次就这样排吧。科萨尔,接吻吧。”
结果排演得混乱不堪,并不比刚才排得好。这次轮到博尔德纳夫来做示范动作了。他像一头大象,却硬做出一副风度翩翩的样子,福什利耸耸肩膀,嘲笑他那副可怜的样子。接着,丰唐也来干预继续排演了,博斯克斗胆提了一些意见。罗丝精疲力竭,最后一下坐到代替门的椅子上。大家不知道排演到什么地方了,更糟糕的是,西蒙娜以为听见了该她接的尾白,过早地入了场,结果秩序一片混乱;这下可惹怒了博尔德纳夫,他把手杖抡得飞转,在西蒙娜的屁股上猛打一下。他经常与女演员睡过觉后,到排演时又打她们。西蒙娜逃走时,博尔德纳夫还气冲冲地喊道:
“这一棍你就受着吧,他妈的!再有人来烦我,我就关闭这个破剧院!”
福什利把帽子往头上一戴,装出马上要离开剧院的样子。他走下舞台,看见博尔德纳夫重新坐下来,浑身是汗。福什利在另一张椅子上坐下来。他们一动未动,并排坐了一会儿,黑暗的大厅里一片寂静。演员们等了约两分钟。每个人都疲惫不堪,仿佛刚刚干了一件繁重的活儿。
“好吧,咱们继续排演吧。”博尔德纳夫终于用正常的语调心平气静地说。
“对,继续排下去。”福什利说,“这场戏明天再作调整。”
他们往椅子里一躺,演员们又无精打采、心不在焉地进行排演。刚才经理和剧作者争吵时,丰唐和其他演员快乐地坐在后面一条长凳上和几张简陋的椅子上。他们暗暗笑着,低声埋怨,还说些挖苦话。但是,当西蒙娜屁股上挨了一棍,泣不成声向后面走来时,他们变得严肃起来。他们说,如果他们是西蒙娜,就把那个猪猡掐死。她揩着眼泪,点头表示赞同他们的话。她说她同他的关系就此结束,她要离开他,何况斯泰内昨天还向她表示,他要大力把她捧成明星呢。克拉利瑟听后很诧异,因为这位银行家已经一文不名;但是普律利埃尔却笑起来,提醒大家注意,这个该死的犹太人诡计多端,过去他缠住罗丝不放,目的是把他的朗德盐场弄到交易所做投机。现在,他正在抛出一项新计划,要在博斯普鲁斯海峡开凿一条隧道。西蒙娜兴致勃勃地听着。至于克拉利瑟,一个星期来,一直怏怏不乐,拉法卢瓦兹这个畜生被她抛弃后,一头钻进了老女人加加的怀抱里,不是就要继承一个富翁伯父的财产吗!她没有指望了,倒霉的事全让她碰上了。另外,博尔德纳夫这个下流家伙让她演一个无足轻重的角色,台词一共只有五十行,好像她不能演热拉尔迪娜一样!她渴望演这个角色,她希望娜娜拒绝演这个角色。
“那么,我呢?”普律利埃尔一本正经地说道,“我的台词还不到二百行。我想推掉不演……让我扮演这个圣菲尔曼,真叫我丢脸,这个人物写得太失败了。朋友们,剧本是什么样的风格!你们知道这个戏一定没人看。”
西蒙娜同巴里约老头谈了一会儿话,现在走过来,气喘吁吁地说道:
“你们不是谈到娜娜吗,她就在大厅里。”
“她在哪儿?”克拉利瑟立刻问道,一边站起来向四处张望。
这个消息立刻传开了。每个人都俯身张望,排演中断了一会儿。博尔德纳夫从昏昏欲睡的状态中清醒过来,叫喊道:
“怎么?发生什么事啦?把这一幕排演完……那边安静下来,这样叫人受不了!”
娜娜坐在包厢里,一直在看排演。拉博德特两次想同她谈话,她感到很不耐烦,用胳膊肘推开他,叫他住嘴。第二幕就要结束了,这时在舞台后面出现了两个人影。他们蹑手蹑脚从舞台上下来,生怕发出声音。娜娜认出他们是米尼翁和缪法伯爵。他们默不作声地与博尔德纳夫打招呼。
“啊!他们来了。”娜娜舒了口气,喃喃说道。
罗丝·米尼翁说出了最后一句台词。这时博尔德纳夫说,在排演第三幕之前,第二幕还要重排演一次;这时,他不看排演了,用过分热情的态度去欢迎伯爵,福什利却假装把注意力完全放在围在他周围的演员身上。米尼翁吹着口哨,双手反剪着,目光盯着他的老婆,罗丝神色有些慌张。
“怎么样?我们上楼好吗?”拉博德特问娜娜,“我先把你带到化妆室里,然后我再下来叫他。”
娜娜立刻离开了包厢。在黑暗中,她只好沿着正厅前座的过道摸索着往前走。博尔德纳夫猜到在黑暗中走的是娜娜,便赶上去,在过道的一头把她拦住了。这条过道很狭窄,在舞台的后面,煤气灯昼夜不熄。为了赶紧把事情定下来,他开门见山地谈起荡妇这个角色。
“嗯?这是多么好的角色!多么富有魅力!这个角色最适合你演……明天就来参加排演吧。”
娜娜态度冷淡。她想看过第三幕排演再说。
“哦!第三幕才精彩呢!……公爵夫人在她自己家里打扮成荡妇的样子,博里瓦热见了很厌恶,从此他便改邪归正了。另外,还有一个滑稽可笑的误会场面,塔迪沃到她家时,还以为到了一位舞女的家里呢……”
“那么,热拉尔迪娜在这一幕中的分量怎样呢?”娜娜打断他的话,问道。
“热拉尔迪娜吗?”博尔德纳夫神色尴尬地说道,“有一场戏她要出场,不太长,但很精彩……这个角色简直就是为你而写的,我坦率告诉你,你签字吧?”
她目不转睛地看着他。最后,她回答道:
“等会儿再说吧。”
说完,她就走了,赶上了在楼梯上等她的拉博德特。全剧院的人都认出娜娜了。大家都在悄悄谈论她,普律利埃尔对她回剧院很反感,克拉利瑟生怕娜娜抢走她的角色。至于丰唐,他假装无所谓,态度冷漠,觉得在背后说一个自己爱过的女人的坏话,不该是他干的事;其实,过去的热恋现在已经变成了仇恨,由于他有一种恶魔般的反常性欲,他一想到她过去对他忠贞不渝,想到她的娇娆容貌,想到他抛弃的那段共同生活,心里就充满仇恨。
娜娜的到来已经使罗丝·米尼翁警觉起来,看到拉博德特从楼上下来,走到伯爵身边,现在她明白了是怎么回事。缪法已经够她讨厌的了,可是再想到她被他这样抛弃,心里就更怄气了。平常在这类事情上,她同丈夫从不罗嗦,可是这一次她再也不能保持沉默了,她直截了当地对他说:
“你知道发生什么事情了吧?……我发誓,如果她再耍抢走斯泰内那样的花招,我就要挖掉她的眼睛!”
米尼翁听后,泰然自若,态度傲慢,他耸耸肩膀,好像什么他都看得很清楚。
“闭起你的嘴吧!”他嘟哝道,“嗯?请你别作声好吗!”
他知道什么事情该认真。他已经把缪法的钱掏得精光,他预料到了,只要娜娜招招手,缪法就会躺下来,让她把自己当地毯踩。缪法已迷恋上她了,这种恋情是无法控制的。他是很了解男人的,所以现在他头脑里考虑的是怎样充分利用有利局面。应当见机行事,他在等待时机。
“罗丝,上场喽!”博尔德纳夫叫道,“我们重新开始排演前面的两幕吧。”
“喂,去吧!”米尼翁说道,“让我一个人来应付吧。”
他现在还不忘记嘲笑别人。他觉得恭维一下福什利的剧本倒是挺有趣的。这个剧本写得太好了,唯一不足之处是,为什么把那位贵夫人写得那样正派呢?这样写很不自然。接着,他冷笑起来,问那个对热拉尔迪娜俯首贴耳的博里瓦热公爵的原型是谁。福什利听了,一点没有生气,却微微一笑。博尔德纳夫向缪法那边瞅了一下,似乎很不高兴,这使米尼翁感到惊讶,表情又严肃起来。
“咱们开始好吗?他妈的!”经理吼道,“开始吧,巴里约!
……嗯?博斯克不在这里?他眼里到底还有没有我!”
然而,博斯克大模大样地回来了。拉博德特把伯爵带走时,大家又继续排演了。缪法伯爵一想到要再去见娜娜,心里就惶惶不安。他俩断绝关系后,他感到生活异常空虚。被人带到罗丝家里,在那里整天无事可做,内心很痛苦,他以为是生活习惯被打乱了的原因。他成天昏头昏脑,什么他都不想知道,他克制自己,不去找娜娜,这样就可避免伯爵夫人问他与娜娜在一起的情况。他觉得是他的贵族身份使他把什么都忘却。但是他内心在暗暗地斗争着,娜娜似乎重新征服了他。他怀念她,由于意志薄弱他又想到了她的肉体,接着对她产生了一种新的专一的感情,这种感情温柔得几乎成了父爱之情。他们决裂时的那一幕可憎景象在他的脑海中渐渐消失了,丰唐的影子不再在他的眼前浮现,娜娜把他驱逐出门、拿他老婆偷人的事来惹怒他的声音不再在他的耳畔萦绕。这些言辞统统飞到九霄云外了;而他的内心却保留了一种使他伤心的压抑,这种痛苦紧紧地攫住他,几乎使他窒息。他又产生了一些天真的想法,他责备起自己,心想当初如果他真心爱她,她也许不会背叛他的。想到这里,他的痛苦顿时变得难以忍受,他太不幸了。这种痛苦犹如昔日的创伤复发了,剧痛起来,不过,它不再是一种盲目的、迫不及待的、将就一切的欲望。他怕失掉这个女人,他只需要一个人,他需要得到她的头发、她的嘴巴、她的肉体,这种需要无时无刻不在缠绕着他。每当他回忆起她讲话的声音,他的四肢就颤抖起来。他怀着吝啬鬼般的苛求和无限柔情想重新得到她。这种情恋早已侵扰着他,使他痛苦万状,所以,拉博德特刚说了开头几句撮合他们会面的话,他就一头扑进他的怀里,接着他又觉得有点难为情,觉得像他这样一个有地位的人,居然做出这样一个放任随便的动作,太可笑了。不过拉博德特懂得如何看待一切。他做事很有分寸,他把伯爵送到楼梯口就与他告别了,随后悄声说道:
“在三楼走廊右边,门一推就开。”
在剧院这个安静的角落里只有缪法一个人。他从演员休息室门口经过时,从敞开的门看进去,只见这间宽广的房间里一派破败景象,在阳光照射下,里面的东西又脏又破旧,令人看了羞愧。但是最使他吃惊的是,他刚走出黑暗、人声嘈杂的舞台,就见楼梯间里光线明亮,一派安静景象,与他以前一天晚上看到的情景迥然不同。那天晚上,他只见里面煤气灯雾腾腾,散场后,女演员们在楼上楼下跑个不停,踩得楼梯咚咚响。现在化妆室里阒无一人,走道里空空荡荡,听不见一点声响,十一月份的淡淡阳光,从楼梯旁的方形窗户里射进来,把一片黄灿灿的光亮洒在梯级上,尘埃在空中的阳光中飞舞着,死一般的寂静从楼上传到楼下。这里如此宁静,缪法感到很高兴,他在楼梯上慢慢拾级而上,尽量让自己喘口气。他的心怦怦直跳,他又害怕起来,生怕自己等会儿像孩子一样唉声叹气,眼泪汪汪。这时,他走到二楼楼梯平台上,确信在那儿没有人看见他,他便倚在一堵墙上;随后,他用手帕捂住嘴,两眼瞧着歪歪斜斜的楼梯梯级、被手磨得光滑的铁栏杆、墙上剥落下来的石灰。这里如同一所妓院,在下午这样的时刻,妓女们正在睡觉,这种破败不堪的景象在淡淡的阳光下暴露无遗。到了三楼,他看见一只大红猫蜷缩在一个梯级上,他只好从猫身上跨过去。那只猫半闭着眼睛,单独守着这座剧院;每天晚上,女演员们留下冷却了的闷味,这只猫就在这种气味中昏昏欲睡。
在走廊的右边,化妆室的门果然没有关上,娜娜在等候他。那个小个子马蒂尔德是个天真的邋遢鬼,化妆室里被她弄得肮脏不堪,地上放着乱七八糟的缺口的陶器罐,梳妆台上一层油垢,椅子上布满红点,仿佛是人血滴在椅子的草垫上。糊在墙上和天花板上的纸上,从上到下都溅上了点点滴滴的肥皂水。屋里还有一种臭味,是一种发酸了的香水味,娜娜不得不打开窗户。她把胳膊肘搁在窗台上,在窗口呆了一会儿,呼吸一下新鲜空气。她俯着身子瞧着下面,她听见布龙太太用扫帚正在紧张地打扫狭小、淹没在昏暗中的院子里的发绿的石板地的声音。一只鸟笼挂在百叶窗上,里面的一只金丝鸟发出刺耳的鸣叫,在这里,听不见林荫大道上和邻近街道上的马车声,像在外省一样,太阳仿佛在广阔的空间打盹儿。她抬起头来,瞥见胡同里的一座座低矮房屋和一条条长廊上的玻璃天棚。她再望过去,是维也纳街的一幢幢高楼大厦,映入她眼帘的是这些楼房的背面,它们巍巍耸立,里面没有一点声音,仿佛空无人住。每层楼都有阳台,一位摄影师在一幢大厦的屋顶上搭了一个蓝玻璃摄影棚。这片景色令人心旷神怡。她正看得出神,似乎听到有人敲门。她掉过头去,喊道:
“请进来!”
一见伯爵进来,她便关上窗户。因为房间里并不热,再说,别让好奇心十足的布龙太太听见。开始气氛很严肃,两人面面相觑。随后,见他僵直地呆着,样子像透不过气来似的,娜娜笑了,说道:
“怎么,你来了,大傻瓜!”
这时他是那么兴奋,身子却像冻僵了。他称呼她太太,说他能够重见到她,觉得很高兴。娜娜急于使事情定下来,她露出更加亲切的样子。
“别装成高贵的样子。既然你想来见我,嗯?我们就不必要像木头人一样呆着,你瞧着我,我瞧着你……我们两人都有过错,哦,我是原谅你的!”
于是,两人同意再也不提过去的事了。缪法点点头赞成她的意见。他的心情平静下来了,他虽有千言万语涌到嘴边,却一句话也说不出来。伯爵态度显得有点冷淡,这使娜娜感到诧异,她便尽量想办法开导他。
“算了吧,你是个通情达理的人,”她莞尔一笑,又说道,“现在我们又和好了,我们握握手吧,我们仍然是好朋友。”
“怎么,只是好朋友?”他顿时不安起来,嘀咕道。
“对,这也许是傻话,但是,这是因为我尊重你……现在,我们把过去的事情都说清楚了,以后如果我们见了面,至少不要像傻瓜一样,连招呼都不打……”
他做了一个手势,想打断她的话。
“让我把话说完……没有一个男人,听见了吧,没有一个男人谴责我干过不道德的事。而你竟是头一个谴责我的人,真让我怄气……每个人都有面子,亲爱的。”
“情况不是这样!”他大声嚷道,“你坐下来,听我说呀。”
他好像怕她走掉,推她坐到唯一的一张椅子上。他越来越激动,在屋子里来回走动。小小的化妆室里,门窗关得严严的,阳光充沛,气温宜人,令人感到宁静而湿润,外面没有一点声音传进来,只听见金丝鸟发出刺耳的叫声,仿佛是远处的笛子吹奏出来的颤音。
“听我说,”他伫立在娜娜面前,说道,“我来见你是为了再次得到你……是的,我想一切重新开始。你明白了吧,你为什么要那样同我说话……回答我,你同意吗?”
她低下头来,用指甲抠着她屁股下的红草垫,草垫仿佛在她身子下面流着血。她看见他那副焦虑不安的样子,反而从容起来。她终于抬起变得严肃的脸,在她那双美丽动人的眸子里,成功地露出一丝忧伤。
“哦!这不可能,我的小宝贝,我永远不会再同你姘居。”
“为什么?”他结巴道,脸上的肌肉抽搐着,露出不可名状的痛苦。
“为什么?怎么不!因为……这不可能,这就是全部理由。
我不愿意。”
他又贪婪地注视她一会儿。随后,把腿一弯,一下子跪倒在石板地上。她露出不耐烦的样子,只说了一句:
“哎!别耍孩子脾气了!”
不过,他已经耍孩子脾气了。他跪在她的脚下,一把抱住她的腰,把腰搂得紧紧的,脸埋在她的双膝之间,紧紧贴在她的肌肉上。这样他感觉触到了她的肌肉,感觉触到了她薄薄的裙子下面的丝绒般柔软的腿上的肌肉,浑身不禁痉挛起来,像发热病一般,直打哆嗦,疯狂地在她的腿上乱碰乱撞,仿佛要钻进她的身体里。那张旧椅子咯吱咯吱作响。在低矮的天花板下,在被过去的香粉染臭的空气中,强烈的肉欲要求使他泣不成声。
“得了,还有什么?”娜娜一边说一边任凭他发泄情欲,“这一切做法对你没有任何用处。既然这是不可能的……我的上帝!你真年轻幼稚!”
他平静下来了。但他仍然跪在地上,不放开她,抽抽噎噎说道:
“你至少应该听我说,我来这里要送给你什么东西……我已经看好了一座公馆,紧靠蒙梭公园。我要实现你的一切愿望。如果我能一个人占有你,我把全部财产拿出来也在所不惜……是的,唯一的条件是:一个人占有你,你听见了吗?如果你同意只属于我一个人,我要让你变成最漂亮、最富有的女人,马车、钻石、化妆品……要什么有什么。”
娜娜每听到他说一样东西,都傲慢地摇摇头。然后,他继续说下去,当他最后不知道说把什么东西送给她时,就说把她放在钱堆里,这时,娜娜不耐烦了,说道:
“得啦,你在我身上摸来摸去,还有没有个完?……我是个好心肠的女子,见你这副痛苦的样子,就让你摸一会儿,可是,你现在该摸够了吧?……让我站起来吧。你把我累垮了。”
她挣脱了他,站起来说道:
“不,不,不……我不愿意。”
于是,他费力地从地上爬起来;他浑身精疲力竭,一屁股坐到椅子上,背靠在椅背上,双手捧着脸。现在轮到娜娜在房间里踱来踱去了。好一阵子,她望着斑迹点点的糊墙纸、布满油垢的梳妆台、沐浴在淡淡阳光下的这个肮脏的小房间。然后,她在伯爵面前停下脚步,用平静的语气说道:
“真滑稽可笑,有钱男人总以为有了钱,就什么都能得到……那么,如果我不愿意呢?……你的那些礼品,我全不在乎。即使你把整个巴黎献给我,我还是不愿意,永远不愿意……你瞧,这间屋子不大干净,不过,如果我同你生活在这里很快乐,我就觉得它很好;如果一个人住在宫殿里,而心却不在宫殿里,他会郁闷死的……啊!金钱!我可怜的宝贝,我到哪里都能搞到!你知道吧,金钱,我可以在上面跳舞,可以往上面吐唾沫!”
她脸上显出厌恶的样子。接着,她说话动了感情,她用忧伤的语调说道:
“我知道有的东西比金钱的价值更高……啊!如果有人把我所渴望得到的东西给我……”
他慢慢抬起头来,眸子里闪烁着一线希望的光芒。
“哦!这事你做不到,”她接着说,“这事不由你作主,正因为这样,我才对你说一说……总之,我们是在聊天……我想演他们那出戏里的那个正经女人的角色。”
“哪个正经女人?”他听后很诧异,喃喃说道。
“就是他们戏里的埃莱娜公爵夫人呗!如果他们以为我会演热拉尔迪娜!那就错了,我决不干,一个无足轻重的角色,而且只有一场戏中才有这个角色!主要问题还不在这里,我演荡妇角色够多了。我老演荡妇,人家真会说我肚子里只有演荡妇这点货色。总之,这真令人恼火,我看得清清楚楚,他们似乎以为我缺乏教养……嘿,我的宝贝,他们这样看我就大错特错了。我想摆出高贵的样子时,我会做得很漂亮的!……瞧,你看看我这副样子。”
接着,她一直退到窗户边,然后昂首挺胸,迈着大步走过来,那谨慎小心的神态,活像一只犹犹豫豫的肥母鸡,生怕弄脏爪子似的。缪法眼泪汪汪,注视着她的每个动作,他在痛苦的时候,忽然看见这一喜剧性场面,一下子愣住了。她走动了一阵子,以显示她的全部表演技能,嘴角上挂着甜蜜的微笑,不断眨眨眼睛,摆动着裙子,最后站在他面前,说道:
“嗯?表演得可以吧,我想。”
“哦,很好。”他结巴道,嗓子还有点哽塞,眼睛模模糊糊。
“我告诉你,我掌握了正经女人的特点!我在家里已表演过,我蔑视男人们的那副神态,没有一个女演员演得比我好。你注意到了吗,当我走过你面前时,总是睨视着你?这种神态是我生来就有的……何况,我自己又乐意演这个角色;我做梦也想这件事,我想得好苦啊,我一定要演这个角色,你听见没有?”
娜娜变得一本正经了,说话语气生硬,情绪激动。这个愚蠢的愿望把她折腾得很苦。缪法刚才说什么都被拒绝,现在还不明白该怎样回答,所以还在等待着。他们沉默了良久,空荡荡的屋子里寂静得连苍蝇飞舞的声音都能听得见。
“你还不懂我的意思,”她只好直说了,“你去帮我把这个角色弄到手。”
缪法听了愣住了。接着,做了一个失望的手势,说道:“不过,这是不可能的!你自己说过,这件事不由我作主。”
她耸耸肩膀,打断他的话:
“你下楼去对博尔德纳夫说,你要这个角色……别这么天真!博尔德纳夫现在需要钱。那么,你就借钱给他,既然你的钱多得要往水里抛。”
他还迟疑不决,娜娜生气了。
“好啦,我明白了,你怕得罪罗丝……你跪在地上哭的时候,我没有提到她;说到她呀,我的话可多呢……是呀,一个男人发誓说他要永远爱一个女人,他就不该要了第二天遇上的第一个女人。哦!这就是我的创伤所在,我现在还记忆犹新!……另外,亲爱的,米尼翁吃剩下来的东西,还有什么味道!你应该先断绝与这些肮脏家伙的关系,再傻乎乎地跪在我的膝盖前面,不是吗?”
缪法大嚷起来,终于插上一句话:
“唉,我压根儿瞧不起她,我马上就同她断绝关系。”
娜娜在这一点上,似乎很满意。她又说:
“那么,你还有什么难处?博尔德纳夫是老板……你也许会说,除了博尔德纳夫还有福什利……”
她拉长了说话声,因为她现在说到了事情的微妙之处。缪法耷拉着眼皮,不吭一声。对于福什利与伯爵夫人的频繁接触,他假装不知道,天长日久,他心里倒平静下来了,希望他在泰布街的一家门口度过的一个可怕的夜晚是弄错了。但是他对福什利这个人一直很反感,怀恨在心。
“唉,什么,福什利又不是魔鬼!”娜娜试探着说道,想知道伯爵和他老婆的情人之间的关系达到何种程度,“至于福什利吗,总能说服他的。实际上,我向你保证,他是一个好青年……
嗯?就这样吧,你对他说,你是为我要这个角色的。”
他想到要为这样的事去奔波,心里就反感。
“不,不,这绝不行!”他大声叫道。
娜娜等待着。有一句话到了嘴边:“福什利什么也不会拒绝你的。”但她又觉得拿这句话作为理由,说出来有点生硬。她只淡淡一笑,这古怪的一笑包含了那句话的意思。缪法抬起眼睛瞧着她,随即又把眼睛低下来,他的脸色苍白,心里忐忑不安。
“啊!你就是不肯帮别人的忙。”娜娜终于嘀咕道。
“我做不到!”他忧心忡忡地说道,“除了这件事,你什么要求我都能办到,哦,亲爱的,我求求你!”
于是,娜娜不再多花时间与他磨嘴皮,用两只小手把他脑袋往后一推,接着,弯下腰来,把嘴唇贴到他的嘴唇上,吻了好一会儿。他在她身子下面打了一下哆嗦,这时他已神魂颠倒,两眼紧闭。随后,她拉他站起来。
“去吧。”她只说了一句。
他举步向门口走去。但是,当他要出门时,她又把他搂在怀里,装出谦恭、温存的样子,抬起脸,用下巴像母猫一样在他的肩坎上来回蹭着。
“你说的那座公馆在哪里?”她悄声问道,表情羞羞答答,笑吟吟的,像个孩子,刚才给她好东西她不好意思要,现在又要了。
“在维里埃大街。”
“有马车吗?”
“有。”
“有花边吗?有钻石吗?”
“有。”
“哦!你真好,我的小猫咪!你知道,刚才我不肯要,那是因为嫉妒……但是这一次,我向你保证,不会像第一次那样,因为你现在懂得了女人需要的是什么。你什么都能献出来,是吗?那么,我现在不要任何男人了……瞧!现在我的吻只给你一个人!来吧,这里,这里,还有这里!”
娜娜的吻像雨点一般落在缪法的手上和脸上,把他吻得身上发热了,便把他推到门外,这时,她才舒了一口气。天哪!这间化妆室里怎么有一股怪味。马蒂尔德真懒!不过,人在里面倒是挺惬意的,像在普鲁旺斯那里的卧室里,冬天的阳光照进来,既暖和又安静,不过,变质的香水味,还有其它脏东西的气味,确实太浓了。她打开窗户,把胳膊肘支在窗台上,出神地瞧着胡同里的玻璃天棚,这样来消磨时间。
缪法踉踉跄跄下楼梯,脑袋里嗡嗡作响,他将说什么呢?用什么方式开口说这件与自己无关的事呢?他到了舞台时,就听见有人在争吵,第二幕快要演完了,普律利埃尔在大发雷霆,因为福什利说要删掉他的一段台词。
“全部删掉吧,”他吼道,“我求之不得!……怎么,我的台词还不足两百行,还要删除!不,我受够了,我不演这个角色了。”
他从衣袋里掏出一本弄皱了的笔记本,在激动得颤抖的手里转来转去,样子像要把它扔到科萨尔的膝盖上。他很痛苦,他的虚荣心受到了伤害,苍白的脸抽搐着,嘴唇抿得紧紧的,眸子里燃烧着怒火,内心的激动怎么也掩饰不住了。他呀,普律利埃尔,是观众崇拜的偶像,竟然演仅有两百行台词的角色!
“怎么不让我扮演端托盘送信的听差呢?”他用辛辣的嘲讽口吻说道。
“行啦,普律利埃尔,别生气了,”博尔德纳夫说道,他对普律利埃尔很客气,因为他对包厢观众很有吸引力,“别再闹情绪了……可以为你增加效果,是吗?福什利,你给他增加一些效果……在第三幕里,甚至还可以增加一场嘛。”
“那么,”普律利埃尔声明道,“我要落幕前的最后一句台词……我理所当然要有这句台词。”
福什利一言不发,样子像是同意了,普律利埃尔把本子放进衣袋里,仍然心绪不宁,很不高兴。博斯克和丰唐在他们争吵时,两个人都显出无动于衷的态度。每个人都关心自己的事情,这与他们没有关系,他们丝毫不感兴趣。所有演员把福什利团团围住,向他提问题,都希望他赞扬自己几句。米尼翁则听着普律利埃尔的最后几句埋怨话,同时眼睛盯着缪法,伯爵回来了,他已看见他回来了。
伯爵走进黑乎乎的舞台,在舞台的后面停下脚步,他迟疑了一阵,不想介入别人的争吵中。但是博尔德纳夫瞥见他在那儿,连忙向他跑过去。
“嘿!他们是什么样的人?”他嘟囔道,“伯爵先生,你简直想象不到我跟这帮人相处有多困难。他们都是半斤八两,个个爱虚荣;他们还是骗子,坏得像疥疮,老是来找我的麻烦,恨不得搞垮我的剧院才开心……请原谅,我刚才火气上来了。”
博尔德纳夫住口了,他们沉默了片刻。缪法想绕个弯子说明来意。但是他想不出适当的话来说,为了尽快了结这件事,终于直截了当地说道:
“娜娜想演公爵夫人。”
博尔德纳夫听了大吃一惊,嚷道:
“说什么?简直疯了!”
接着,他瞅着伯爵,发觉他面色那样苍白,神色那样惶恐不安,于是,马上冷静下来。
“真见鬼!”他只说了一句。
两人又沉默起来。其实,让娜娜演公爵夫人,经理也无所谓,这个胖乎乎的娜娜扮演公爵夫人,说不定挺有趣呢。何况,通过这件事,他可以把缪法牢牢控制住。因此,他马上作出决定,他转过身子,叫道:
“福什利!”
伯爵做了一个手势,想不让他跟福什利讲。福什利没有听见叫他,他被丰唐拉到舞台的檐幕边,耐着性子听这位演员讲述他对塔迪沃这个角色是如何理解的。丰唐认为塔迪沃是马赛人,因为他讲话操南方口音;于是他就模仿南方口音。他背了整整几段台词,问福什利对不对?看来他也只是提出一些想法,对不对,他还没有把握。可是福什利态度冷漠,并且提出一些不同看法。丰唐马上发火了。很好!既然他抓不住这个角色的精神,为了替大家着想,最好他还是不演这个角色。
“福什利!”博尔德纳夫又叫道。
于是,福什利拔腿就走,摆脱了这位演员,他感到很高兴。
丰唐见他突然走掉,觉得伤了面子。
“别呆在这里,”博尔德纳夫又说道,“先生们,跟我来吧。”
为了不让好奇的耳朵听见,他把他们带到舞台后面的道具库。米尼翁见他们倏忽不见了,感到蹊跷。他们走下几级楼梯就到了道具库。那是一间方方正正的房间,两扇窗户朝向院子。一道仿佛从地窖里射出来的光线从脏兮兮的玻璃窗射进来,天花板很矮,光线显得很暗淡。屋里摆满了带格子的架子,架子上杂乱无章地摆着各种道具,颇像拉普街旧货商摆设的摊铺,有杂七杂八的说不出名字的盘子,金色硬纸杯,红色旧雨伞,意大利罐子,以及各种款式的挂钟、托盘、墨水瓶、火枪和灌注器;所有东西上都积了一层一寸厚的灰尘,看了难以辨认,有的缺了口,有的破碎了,通通堆在一起。一股难以忍受的废铁味、破布味和潮湿纸板味从这里的一堆堆东西中散发出来,这些演戏用的破烂东西堆积在这里,已有五十年了。
“请进吧,”博尔德纳夫连声说道,“这儿只有我们几个人,至少没有人来打扰。”
伯爵有些尴尬,只走了几步就停下来,以便让经理单独大胆向福什利提出这项建议。福什利惊讶地问道:
“有什么事情?”
“是这样的,”博尔德纳夫终于说道,“我们现在有一个新的想法……你听了别发火,说件正经八百的事,公爵夫人的角色让娜娜来演,你看怎么样?”
福什利听了惊愕不已。接着,他大发雷霆。
“啊!不行,这是在开玩笑……观众会笑破肚皮的。”
“唉!观众能笑,就算不错嘛!……你考虑一下,亲爱的,伯爵先生很赞赏这个主意。”
缪法装成若无其事的样子,他从一块积满灰尘的木板上拿下一样他似乎不认识的东西,那是一只吃带壳溏心蛋用的蛋杯,杯脚是用石膏重新做的。他无意识地把杯子拿在手里,向前走了几步,悄悄说道:
“对,对,这个主意很好。”
福什利向他转过头去,突然显出不耐烦的样子。伯爵同这出戏毫不相干。随后,他直截了当地说:
“绝对不行!……让娜娜演荡妇,要演多少都行,可是让她演上流社会的妇女,绝对不行!”
“你错了,我向你保证,”缪法大胆说道,“刚才她还向我表演过正经女人呢……”
“在哪里表演的?”福什利问道,他更觉得奇怪了。
“在楼上一间化妆室里……她确实表演过。哦,她的表演可出色呢!尤其是她那瞟人的眼神才像呢……你知道,她经过别人面前时,眼睛像这样子……”
他急于说服两位先生,一时忘记一切,手里还拿着蛋杯,就模仿起娜娜的表演动作了。福什利呆呆地瞧着他。他明白了,不再生气了。伯爵从福什利的眼神中看出来,他既有几分嘲笑又有几分怜悯,脸一下子红了,赶快停止了表演。
“我的上帝!说不定真行,”作者为了讨好伯爵,喃喃说道,“她可能演得很好呢……不过,演这个角色的人已经定了,我们不能从罗丝那里再要回来。”
“哦!如果只是这一点困难,”博尔德纳夫说道,“事情由我来负责处理。”
这时候,年轻作者见他们两人唱一个调子,反对自己的意见,便觉察出博尔德纳夫怀有不可告人的目的,于是,他也不甘示弱,便加倍地反对他们的意见,几乎使商谈破裂。
“哎!不行;哎!不行。即使这个角色没有人演,我也决不让娜娜演……这一点,明白了吗?让我安静一下吧……我不愿毁了我的剧本。”
僵持之下,出现了一阵沉默。博尔德纳夫觉得自己再呆在那儿就成了多余的人,便走开了。伯爵耷拉着脑袋。随后,他好不容易抬起头来,换个口气说道:
“亲爱的,就算我请你帮个忙吧,怎么样?”
“我做不到,我做不到。”福什利竭力拒绝,连声说道。
缪法的语气也强硬起来。
“我请求你……我要这样办!”
他把目光盯住福什利。从那愤怒的目光里,福什利看出他在威胁自己,年轻人倏地让步了,结结巴巴地说了几句含糊不清的话:
“就按照你说的办吧,总之,我也无所谓……哎!你太过分了。等着瞧吧,等着瞧吧……”
这时候,气氛显得更尴尬了。福什利倚在一个架子上,一股劲儿地跺着脚,缪法一直转动着手中的那只蛋杯,仿佛在专心研究它。
“这是一只蛋杯。”博尔德纳夫走过来,殷勤地说道。
“对了!这是一只蛋杯。”伯爵跟着说。
“对不起,把你身上搞的满是灰尘。”经理一边继续说道,一边把蛋杯放回木板上,“你知道,如果每天打扫灰尘,灰尘也是打扫不完的……所以,这儿不大干净。哎?乱七八糟!……不过,你也许会相信我的话,这里面还有些值钱的东西。看吧,把这里的东西都看看吧。”
他领着缪法从一个个架子前面走过去,凭借从院子里照进来的淡绿光线,他把那些道具的名称一一告诉伯爵,还笑吟吟地说自己像个卖破烂的商人,在盘点,想以此引起伯爵对他的道具的兴趣。随后,他们回到了福什利身边,他用轻快的口气说道:
“听我说吧,既然我们大家都同意了,事情就这样定了……正好米尼翁也来了。”
米尼翁在走廊里逛了好一阵子了。博尔德纳夫谈到要修改合同的事,米尼翁刚听了几句,就大发雷霆;真无耻,这是要葬送他老婆的前途,他要进行诉讼。然而,博尔德纳夫很冷静,他讲了很多道理来说服他;他觉得罗丝演这个角色是大才小用,他想把罗丝抽出来,等《小公爵夫人》演过后,让她主演一出轻歌剧里的角色。但是,由于罗丝的丈夫总是大吵大嚷,博尔德纳夫便断然提出要解除合同,因为这位女歌手接受了游乐剧院的聘请。这一下把米尼翁弄得不知所措。他并不否认聘请这件事,但他装出一副蔑视金钱的样子;既然已经聘请了他的老婆演埃莱娜公爵夫人,她就一定要演,他米尼翁纵然丢了财产也在所不惜,这是关系到一个人的尊严、荣誉的问题。争论到这里,问题就变得复杂了。经理总是抓住这条理由:既然游乐剧院愿意每晚演出付给罗丝三百法郎,总共要演一百场,而她为他演出每晚只能得到一百五十法郎,这样,他把她放走后,她就能多挣一万五千法郎。但是丈夫又提出艺术方面的问题,并抓住不放:如果人家看到他老婆被取消演这个角色,会怎样议论呢?人家会说她演不了这个角色,所以不得不把她换掉;因此,对一个艺术家来说,就蒙受了巨大的损失,声誉就会下降。不行,不行,绝对不行,荣誉比金钱还重要!接着,他突然提出一项妥协方案:根据合同,罗丝如果自动退出这个角色,她要付一万法郎违约金;现在是别人要她退出,那么,只要赔偿她一万法郎,她就去游乐剧院。博尔德纳夫听了,一下子愣住了,米尼翁的眼睛盯住伯爵,静静地等待他的回答。
“这样,一切都解决了,”缪法松了一口气,悄然说道,“我们可以商量一下。”
“啊!这怎么行呢!如果我们这样做,就太愚蠢了!”博尔德纳夫凭他生意人的本能,火冒三丈,嚷道,“放走罗丝,花一万法郎!这是在捉弄我。”
但是,伯爵连连点头,叫他接受米尼翁的要求。他又犹豫了一会儿。经理还嘀嘀咕咕,舍不得那一万法郎,虽然这笔钱不要他出。末了,他又粗声粗气地说道:
“不管怎样,我同意啦。这下子我可以摆脱你们了。”
丰唐对这件事十分好奇,从舞台上下来,木立在院子里听了一刻钟。当他知道是怎么回事后,便跑到舞台上把这件事告诉罗丝,并引以为乐。哎哟!人家在暗中算计她,这下她可完了。她立刻跑到道具库。见她来了,大家都不说话了。她瞅着那四个男人。缪法耷拉着脑袋,福什利失望地耸耸肩膀,作为对她的询问的目光的回答。米尼翁呢,他正在与博尔德纳夫讨论合同中的条款。
“发生什么事啦?”她用生硬的口气问道。
“没什么,”她丈夫说道,“博尔德纳夫要用一万法郎把他的角色收回去。”
她浑身哆嗦起来,面色苍白,两只小手捏得紧紧的。她憋了一肚子气,直愣愣地瞅着她的丈夫,平时碰到生意上的事情,她对丈夫总是言听计从,让她丈夫作主,由他与经理和她的情夫签订合同。她气得一句话也说不出来,只大叫一声,这叫声像一根鞭子抽在她丈夫的脸上。
“啊!瞧你,你是个孬种!”
说完,她便走了。米尼翁惊慌失措,跟在她后面追上去。怎么回事,难道她疯了?他轻声向她解释,一边得一万法郎,另一边得一万五千法郎,共计二万五千法郎。这可是一笔绝好的买卖!不管怎样,缪法抛弃了她,最后从他的翅膀上拔一根羽毛,这是巧妙的做法。罗丝怒不可遏,一声不吭。米尼翁不屑与她多费口舌,便离开了她,任她去发泄女人的怨气。博尔德纳夫与福什利和缪法已经回到舞台上了,米尼翁对博尔德纳夫说道:
“我们明天早上就签合同,你要把钱准备好。”
拉博德特已经把这个消息告诉了娜娜,正巧,这时她得意洋洋走下来。她演正经女人,摆出一副高贵的派头,目的是要让她的同事们对她刮目相看,并且向这伙笨蛋证实,只要她想演,哪一个女人也没有她演得漂亮。但是,她差点出个洋相。罗丝瞥见了她,便向她冲过去,她气得透不过气来,结结巴巴地说道:
“你呀,我总有一天再见到你的……我们这笔帐总是要算的,听见了吗?”
娜娜受到这样突然袭击,顿时把什么都忘了,她想马上双手叉腰,破口大骂她是婊子。但她克制住了,摆出一个侯爵夫人险些踩到桔子皮时的神态,过分尖声尖气地说道:
“嗯?什么?你疯了,亲爱的!”
接着,罗丝气走了,娜娜依然保持优雅大度的神态,米尼翁紧跟着罗丝,她那副气乎乎的样子,几乎使他认不出她来了。克拉利瑟很高兴,她刚从博尔德纳夫那里得到了热拉尔迪娜这个角色。福什利面色忧郁,气得直跺脚,却又下不了离开剧院的决心;他的剧本完蛋了,他正在想方设法补救。这时,娜娜走过来抓住他的手腕,把他拉得靠近自己,问他是否觉得她心肠狠毒。她不会吃掉他的剧本。这句话把福什利逗笑了。她还暗示他,像他那样在缪法家的处境,倘若与她闹别扭,他就太愚蠢了。如果她台词记不牢,她就找个提台词的人;剧场里是会座无虚席的。另外,他错误地估计了她,她会让他看到,她演出时是怎样卖力。于是,大家都同意了,叫作者把公爵夫人的角色略加修改,给普律利埃尔增加一些台词,普律利埃尔也高兴了。娜娜的参演自然给大家带来了欢乐,唯有丰唐态度冷淡。他伫立在那盏小灯的黄色光圈中间,他的尖长的山羊脸的侧影被灯光映得清晰可见,他装出一副离群索居的样子。娜娜却大大方方地走到他跟前,同他握握手。
“你好吗?”
“还好,不坏。你呢?”
“很好,谢谢。”
他们就说了这些。他们仿佛昨天晚上在剧院门口才分手的。这时候,演员们还在等待排演,但是博尔德纳夫说第三幕不排演了。恰巧,博斯克老头走了,他一边走,一边埋怨道:他们常常被毫无必要地留下来,使他们浪费了整个下午的时间。大家都走了。他们到了下面人行道上,阳光刺得他们直眨眼睛,他们像在地窖下面度过了三个钟头,又发生了口角,神经一直处于紧张状态,到了外面就发呆。伯爵呢,他疲乏不堪,头脑里空空的,与娜娜一起登上马车走了;拉博德特则拉着福什利一道走,边走边鼓励他。
一个月后,《小公爵夫人》首次上演就给娜娜带来了极大的失败,她演得蹩脚透顶,她本来满怀希望,以为能得到很大的喜剧效果,结果却使观众发笑。观众并未喝倒采,因为他们觉得很有趣。罗丝·米尼翁坐在楼下的侧包厢里,每次她的对手登场,她就尖声尖气地大笑一番,这样全场观众都跟着笑起来。这只是她的初次报复。到了晚上,娜娜单独与怏怏不乐的缪法在一起时,她愤怒地对他说道:
“哼!多么阴险的诡计!这一切都是出于嫉妒……啊!他们可知道我根本不在乎!难道我现在还需要他们!……瞧吧!我愿花一百个金路易,把嘲笑过我的人带到这里来,让他们在我面前舔地板!……是的,我要演贵夫人给你的巴黎看看!”
点击收听单词发音
1 nave | |
n.教堂的中部;本堂 | |
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2 pro | |
n.赞成,赞成的意见,赞成者 | |
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3 savagely | |
adv. 野蛮地,残酷地 | |
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4 savage | |
adj.野蛮的;凶恶的,残暴的;n.未开化的人 | |
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5 cane | |
n.手杖,细长的茎,藤条;v.以杖击,以藤编制的 | |
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6 acting | |
n.演戏,行为,假装;adj.代理的,临时的,演出用的 | |
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7 grumble | |
vi.抱怨;咕哝;n.抱怨,牢骚;咕哝,隆隆声 | |
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8 supreme | |
adj.极度的,最重要的;至高的,最高的 | |
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9 tranquil | |
adj. 安静的, 宁静的, 稳定的, 不变的 | |
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10 tranquillity | |
n. 平静, 安静 | |
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11 exasperation | |
n.愤慨 | |
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12 rehearsal | |
n.排练,排演;练习 | |
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13 ragged | |
adj.衣衫褴褛的,粗糙的,刺耳的 | |
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14 fatigue | |
n.疲劳,劳累 | |
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15 itched | |
v.发痒( itch的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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16 aspired | |
v.渴望,追求( aspire的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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17 flaring | |
a.火焰摇曳的,过份艳丽的 | |
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18 immediate | |
adj.立即的;直接的,最接近的;紧靠的 | |
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19 melancholy | |
n.忧郁,愁思;adj.令人感伤(沮丧)的,忧郁的 | |
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20 phantoms | |
n.鬼怪,幽灵( phantom的名词复数 ) | |
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21 clouts | |
n.猛打( clout的名词复数 );敲打;(尤指政治上的)影响;(用手或硬物的)击v.(尤指用手)猛击,重打( clout的第三人称单数 ) | |
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22 clove | |
n.丁香味 | |
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23 rustic | |
adj.乡村的,有乡村特色的;n.乡下人,乡巴佬 | |
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24 scenic | |
adj.自然景色的,景色优美的 | |
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25 standing | |
n.持续,地位;adj.永久的,不动的,直立的,不流动的 | |
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26 sonorous | |
adj.响亮的,回响的;adv.圆润低沉地;感人地;n.感人,堂皇 | |
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27 deserted | |
adj.荒芜的,荒废的,无人的,被遗弃的 | |
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28 bawling | |
v.大叫,大喊( bawl的现在分词 );放声大哭;大声叫出;叫卖(货物) | |
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29 allusion | |
n.暗示,间接提示 | |
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30 rosy | |
adj.美好的,乐观的,玫瑰色的 | |
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31 shrug | |
v.耸肩(表示怀疑、冷漠、不知等) | |
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32 shrugged | |
vt.耸肩(shrug的过去式与过去分词形式) | |
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33 idiotic | |
adj.白痴的 | |
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34 penetrate | |
v.透(渗)入;刺入,刺穿;洞察,了解 | |
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35 murmur | |
n.低语,低声的怨言;v.低语,低声而言 | |
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36 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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37 gulf | |
n.海湾;深渊,鸿沟;分歧,隔阂 | |
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38 suffused | |
v.(指颜色、水气等)弥漫于,布满( suffuse的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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39 loft | |
n.阁楼,顶楼 | |
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40 twilight | |
n.暮光,黄昏;暮年,晚期,衰落时期 | |
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41 slumber | |
n.睡眠,沉睡状态 | |
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42 effacement | |
n.抹消,抹杀 | |
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43 dense | |
a.密集的,稠密的,浓密的;密度大的 | |
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44 smothered | |
(使)窒息, (使)透不过气( smother的过去式和过去分词 ); 覆盖; 忍住; 抑制 | |
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45 frescoes | |
n.壁画( fresco的名词复数 );温壁画技法,湿壁画 | |
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46 velvet | |
n.丝绒,天鹅绒;adj.丝绒制的,柔软的 | |
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47 ledges | |
n.(墙壁,悬崖等)突出的狭长部分( ledge的名词复数 );(平窄的)壁架;横档;(尤指)窗台 | |
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48 shrouded | |
v.隐瞒( shroud的过去式和过去分词 );保密 | |
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49 hue | |
n.色度;色调;样子 | |
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50 recesses | |
n.壁凹( recess的名词复数 );(工作或业务活动的)中止或暂停期间;学校的课间休息;某物内部的凹形空间v.把某物放在墙壁的凹处( recess的第三人称单数 );将(墙)做成凹形,在(墙)上做壁龛;休息,休会,休庭 | |
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51 pouted | |
v.撅(嘴)( pout的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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52 enveloped | |
v.包围,笼罩,包住( envelop的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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53 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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54 dressing | |
n.(食物)调料;包扎伤口的用品,敷料 | |
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55 vouchsafed | |
v.给予,赐予( vouchsafe的过去式和过去分词 );允诺 | |
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56 celebrity | |
n.名人,名流;著名,名声,名望 | |
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57 debauch | |
v.使堕落,放纵 | |
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58 buck | |
n.雄鹿,雄兔;v.马离地跳跃 | |
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59 baron | |
n.男爵;(商业界等)巨头,大王 | |
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60 gallant | |
adj.英勇的,豪侠的;(向女人)献殷勤的 | |
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61 dint | |
n.由于,靠;凹坑 | |
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62 caresses | |
爱抚,抚摸( caress的名词复数 ) | |
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63 monotonously | |
adv.单调地,无变化地 | |
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64 sneered | |
讥笑,冷笑( sneer的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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65 smacked | |
拍,打,掴( smack的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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66 vigor | |
n.活力,精力,元气 | |
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67 triumphantly | |
ad.得意洋洋地;得胜地;成功地 | |
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68 afterward | |
adv.后来;以后 | |
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69 strings | |
n.弦 | |
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70 insolent | |
adj.傲慢的,无理的 | |
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71 peculiar | |
adj.古怪的,异常的;特殊的,特有的 | |
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72 flicker | |
vi./n.闪烁,摇曳,闪现 | |
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73 hiss | |
v.发出嘶嘶声;发嘘声表示不满 | |
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74 recurred | |
再发生,复发( recur的过去式和过去分词 ); 治愈 | |
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75 brute | |
n.野兽,兽性 | |
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76 brandished | |
v.挥舞( brandish的过去式和过去分词 );炫耀 | |
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77 folly | |
n.愚笨,愚蠢,蠢事,蠢行,傻话 | |
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78 graceful | |
adj.优美的,优雅的;得体的 | |
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79 gracefully | |
ad.大大方方地;优美地 | |
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80 thoroughly | |
adv.完全地,彻底地,十足地 | |
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81 premature | |
adj.比预期时间早的;不成熟的,仓促的 | |
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82 enraged | |
使暴怒( enrage的过去式和过去分词 ); 歜; 激愤 | |
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83 reigned | |
vi.当政,统治(reign的过去式形式) | |
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84 exhaustion | |
n.耗尽枯竭,疲惫,筋疲力尽,竭尽,详尽无遗的论述 | |
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85 perfectly | |
adv.完美地,无可非议地,彻底地 | |
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86 indifference | |
n.不感兴趣,不关心,冷淡,不在乎 | |
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87 chuckling | |
轻声地笑( chuckle的现在分词 ) | |
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88 grumbling | |
adj. 喃喃鸣不平的, 出怨言的 | |
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89 sobs | |
啜泣(声),呜咽(声)( sob的名词复数 ) | |
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90 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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91 destined | |
adj.命中注定的;(for)以…为目的地的 | |
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92 cozy | |
adj.亲如手足的,密切的,暖和舒服的 | |
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93 mere | |
adj.纯粹的;仅仅,只不过 | |
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94 scrap | |
n.碎片;废料;v.废弃,报废 | |
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95 paltry | |
adj.无价值的,微不足道的 | |
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96 yearning | |
a.渴望的;向往的;怀念的 | |
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97 quiescent | |
adj.静止的,不活动的,寂静的 | |
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98 scent | |
n.气味,香味,香水,线索,嗅觉;v.嗅,发觉 | |
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99 unbearable | |
adj.不能容忍的;忍受不住的 | |
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100 inclination | |
n.倾斜;点头;弯腰;斜坡;倾度;倾向;爱好 | |
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101 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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102 entirely | |
ad.全部地,完整地;完全地,彻底地 | |
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103 engrossed | |
adj.全神贯注的 | |
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104 fixed | |
adj.固定的,不变的,准备好的;(计算机)固定的 | |
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105 complacently | |
adv. 满足地, 自满地, 沾沾自喜地 | |
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106 bluff | |
v.虚张声势,用假象骗人;n.虚张声势,欺骗 | |
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107 plunged | |
v.颠簸( plunge的过去式和过去分词 );暴跌;骤降;突降 | |
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108 frigid | |
adj.寒冷的,凛冽的;冷淡的;拘禁的 | |
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109 amend | |
vt.修改,修订,改进;n.[pl.]赔罪,赔偿 | |
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110 awfully | |
adv.可怕地,非常地,极端地 | |
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111 embarrassment | |
n.尴尬;使人为难的人(事物);障碍;窘迫 | |
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112 steadily | |
adv.稳定地;不变地;持续地 | |
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113 rancor | |
n.深仇,积怨 | |
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114 perverse | |
adj.刚愎的;坚持错误的,行为反常的 | |
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115 monstrous | |
adj.巨大的;恐怖的;可耻的,丢脸的 | |
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116 tranquilly | |
adv. 宁静地 | |
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117 haughtily | |
adv. 傲慢地, 高傲地 | |
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118 bantering | |
adj.嘲弄的v.开玩笑,说笑,逗乐( banter的现在分词 );(善意地)取笑,逗弄 | |
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119 chaste | |
adj.贞洁的;有道德的;善良的;简朴的 | |
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120 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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121 bloody | |
adj.非常的的;流血的;残忍的;adv.很;vt.血染 | |
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122 rupture | |
n.破裂;(关系的)决裂;v.(使)破裂 | |
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123 strenuously | |
adv.奋发地,费力地 | |
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124 paternal | |
adj.父亲的,像父亲的,父系的,父方的 | |
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125 abominable | |
adj.可厌的,令人憎恶的 | |
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126 effacing | |
谦逊的 | |
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127 taunt | |
n.辱骂,嘲弄;v.嘲弄 | |
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128 poignant | |
adj.令人痛苦的,辛酸的,惨痛的 | |
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129 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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130 anguish | |
n.(尤指心灵上的)极度痛苦,烦恼 | |
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131 longings | |
渴望,盼望( longing的名词复数 ) | |
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132 miser | |
n.守财奴,吝啬鬼 (adj.miserly) | |
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133 refinements | |
n.(生活)风雅;精炼( refinement的名词复数 );改良品;细微的改良;优雅或高贵的动作 | |
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134 dolorously | |
adj. 悲伤的;痛苦的;悲哀的;阴沉的 | |
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135 possessed | |
adj.疯狂的;拥有的,占有的 | |
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136 broach | |
v.开瓶,提出(题目) | |
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137 obedience | |
n.服从,顺从 | |
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138 irresistible | |
adj.非常诱人的,无法拒绝的,无法抗拒的 | |
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139 tact | |
n.机敏,圆滑,得体 | |
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140 dilapidation | |
n.倒塌;毁坏 | |
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141 chamber | |
n.房间,寝室;会议厅;议院;会所 | |
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142 shamefully | |
可耻地; 丢脸地; 不体面地; 羞耻地 | |
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143 pervading | |
v.遍及,弥漫( pervade的现在分词 ) | |
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144 fumes | |
n.(强烈而刺激的)气味,气体 | |
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145 scampering | |
v.蹦蹦跳跳地跑,惊惶奔跑( scamper的现在分词 ) | |
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146 descend | |
vt./vi.传下来,下来,下降 | |
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147 regain | |
vt.重新获得,收复,恢复 | |
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148 thumping | |
adj.重大的,巨大的;重击的;尺码大的;极好的adv.极端地;非常地v.重击(thump的现在分词);狠打;怦怦地跳;全力支持 | |
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149 warped | |
adj.反常的;乖戾的;(变)弯曲的;变形的v.弄弯,变歪( warp的过去式和过去分词 );使(行为等)不合情理,使乖戾, | |
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150 friction | |
n.摩擦,摩擦力 | |
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151 tolerance | |
n.宽容;容忍,忍受;耐药力;公差 | |
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152 solitary | |
adj.孤独的,独立的,荒凉的;n.隐士 | |
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153 somnolent | |
adj.想睡的,催眠的;adv.瞌睡地;昏昏欲睡地;使人瞌睡地 | |
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154 filthy | |
adj.卑劣的;恶劣的,肮脏的 | |
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155 jugs | |
(有柄及小口的)水壶( jug的名词复数 ) | |
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156 greasy | |
adj. 多脂的,油脂的 | |
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157 lash | |
v.系牢;鞭打;猛烈抨击;n.鞭打;眼睫毛 | |
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158 underneath | |
adj.在...下面,在...底下;adv.在下面 | |
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159 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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160 shutter | |
n.百叶窗;(照相机)快门;关闭装置 | |
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161 rue | |
n.懊悔,芸香,后悔;v.后悔,悲伤,懊悔 | |
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162 apparently | |
adv.显然地;表面上,似乎 | |
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163 eavesdropping | |
n. 偷听 | |
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164 tumult | |
n.喧哗;激动,混乱;吵闹 | |
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165 esteemed | |
adj.受人尊敬的v.尊敬( esteem的过去式和过去分词 );敬重;认为;以为 | |
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166 dignified | |
a.可敬的,高贵的 | |
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167 assent | |
v.批准,认可;n.批准,认可 | |
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168 horrid | |
adj.可怕的;令人惊恐的;恐怖的;极讨厌的 | |
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169 agitation | |
n.搅动;搅拌;鼓动,煽动 | |
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170 shrill | |
adj.尖声的;刺耳的;v尖叫 | |
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171 flute | |
n.长笛;v.吹笛 | |
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172 bent | |
n.爱好,癖好;adj.弯的;决心的,一心的 | |
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173 ardently | |
adv.热心地,热烈地 | |
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174 velvety | |
adj. 像天鹅绒的, 轻软光滑的, 柔软的 | |
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175 fabric | |
n.织物,织品,布;构造,结构,组织 | |
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176 pungent | |
adj.(气味、味道)刺激性的,辛辣的;尖锐的 | |
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177 subsided | |
v.(土地)下陷(因在地下采矿)( subside的过去式和过去分词 );减弱;下降至较低或正常水平;一下子坐在椅子等上 | |
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178 extricated | |
v.使摆脱困难,脱身( extricate的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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179 basked | |
v.晒太阳,取暖( bask的过去式和过去分词 );对…感到乐趣;因他人的功绩而出名;仰仗…的余泽 | |
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180 trample | |
vt.踩,践踏;无视,伤害,侵犯 | |
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181 sentimental | |
adj.多愁善感的,感伤的 | |
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182 astonishment | |
n.惊奇,惊异 | |
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183 swell | |
vi.膨胀,肿胀;增长,增强 | |
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184 swelling | |
n.肿胀 | |
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185 mincing | |
adj.矫饰的;v.切碎;切碎 | |
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186 circumspect | |
adj.慎重的,谨慎的 | |
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187 demurely | |
adv.装成端庄地,认真地 | |
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188 dexterity | |
n.(手的)灵巧,灵活 | |
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189 stammered | |
v.结巴地说出( stammer的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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190 knack | |
n.诀窍,做事情的灵巧的,便利的方法 | |
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191 miserable | |
adj.悲惨的,痛苦的;可怜的,糟糕的 | |
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192 tiresome | |
adj.令人疲劳的,令人厌倦的 | |
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193 abstained | |
v.戒(尤指酒),戒除( abstain的过去式和过去分词 );弃权(不投票) | |
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194 savory | |
adj.风味极佳的,可口的,味香的 | |
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195 vaguely | |
adv.含糊地,暖昧地 | |
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196 jot | |
n.少量;vi.草草记下;vt.匆匆写下 | |
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197 lulled | |
vt.使镇静,使安静(lull的过去式与过去分词形式) | |
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198 doorway | |
n.门口,(喻)入门;门路,途径 | |
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199 repugnance | |
n.嫌恶 | |
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200 verge | |
n.边,边缘;v.接近,濒临 | |
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201 utterance | |
n.用言语表达,话语,言语 | |
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202 meek | |
adj.温顺的,逆来顺受的 | |
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203 coaxing | |
v.哄,用好话劝说( coax的现在分词 );巧言骗取;哄劝,劝诱;“锻炼”效应 | |
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204 previously | |
adv.以前,先前(地) | |
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205 jealousy | |
n.妒忌,嫉妒,猜忌 | |
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206 wrath | |
n.愤怒,愤慨,暴怒 | |
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207 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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208 feverishly | |
adv. 兴奋地 | |
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209 outraged | |
a.震惊的,义愤填膺的 | |
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210 drawn | |
v.拖,拉,拔出;adj.憔悴的,紧张的 | |
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211 conceal | |
v.隐藏,隐瞒,隐蔽 | |
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212 idol | |
n.偶像,红人,宠儿 | |
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213 lengthen | |
vt.使伸长,延长 | |
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214 comedian | |
n.喜剧演员;滑稽演员 | |
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215 agitated | |
adj.被鼓动的,不安的 | |
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216 abrupt | |
adj.突然的,意外的;唐突的,鲁莽的 | |
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217 disappearance | |
n.消失,消散,失踪 | |
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218 panes | |
窗玻璃( pane的名词复数 ) | |
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219 wanly | |
adv.虚弱地;苍白地,无血色地 | |
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220 pigeonholes | |
n.鸽舍出入口( pigeonhole的名词复数 );小房间;文件架上的小间隔v.把…搁在分类架上( pigeonhole的第三人称单数 );把…留在记忆中;缓办;把…隔成小格 | |
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221 varied | |
adj.多样的,多变化的 | |
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222 gilt | |
adj.镀金的;n.金边证券 | |
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223 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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224 debris | |
n.瓦砾堆,废墟,碎片 | |
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225 contrived | |
adj.不自然的,做作的;虚构的 | |
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226 countenance | |
n.脸色,面容;面部表情;vt.支持,赞同 | |
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227 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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228 frantic | |
adj.狂乱的,错乱的,激昂的 | |
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229 consultation | |
n.咨询;商量;商议;会议 | |
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230 lapsed | |
adj.流失的,堕落的v.退步( lapse的过去式和过去分词 );陷入;倒退;丧失 | |
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231 writhed | |
(因极度痛苦而)扭动或翻滚( writhe的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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232 beseech | |
v.祈求,恳求 | |
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233 nervously | |
adv.神情激动地,不安地 | |
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234 inventory | |
n.详细目录,存货清单 | |
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235 jocosely | |
adv.说玩笑地,诙谐地 | |
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236 modification | |
n.修改,改进,缓和,减轻 | |
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237 worthy | |
adj.(of)值得的,配得上的;有价值的 | |
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238 professed | |
公开声称的,伪称的,已立誓信教的 | |
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239 disdain | |
n.鄙视,轻视;v.轻视,鄙视,不屑 | |
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240 nay | |
adv.不;n.反对票,投反对票者 | |
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241 pointed | |
adj.尖的,直截了当的 | |
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242 forfeit | |
vt.丧失;n.罚金,罚款,没收物 | |
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243 utterly | |
adv.完全地,绝对地 | |
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244 haggling | |
v.讨价还价( haggle的现在分词 ) | |
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245 dinned | |
vt.喧闹(din的过去式与过去分词形式) | |
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246 curtly | |
adv.简短地 | |
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247 clenched | |
v.紧握,抓紧,咬紧( clench的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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248 wont | |
adj.习惯于;v.习惯;n.习惯 | |
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249 distinguished | |
adj.卓越的,杰出的,著名的 | |
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250 darted | |
v.投掷,投射( dart的过去式和过去分词 );向前冲,飞奔 | |
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251 fluted | |
a.有凹槽的 | |
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252 enraptured | |
v.使狂喜( enrapture的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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253 rattle | |
v.飞奔,碰响;激怒;n.碰撞声;拨浪鼓 | |
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254 diffused | |
散布的,普及的,扩散的 | |
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255 filigree | |
n.金银丝做的工艺品;v.用金银细丝饰品装饰;用华而不实的饰品装饰;adj.金银细丝工艺的 | |
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256 luxurious | |
adj.精美而昂贵的;豪华的 | |
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257 medley | |
n.混合 | |
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258 exquisitely | |
adv.精致地;强烈地;剧烈地;异常地 | |
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259 artistic | |
adj.艺术(家)的,美术(家)的;善于艺术创作的 | |
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260 embroidered | |
adj.绣花的 | |
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261 Portuguese | |
n.葡萄牙人;葡萄牙语 | |
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262 pagodas | |
塔,宝塔( pagoda的名词复数 ) | |
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263 conveyance | |
n.(不动产等的)转让,让与;转让证书;传送;运送;表达;(正)运输工具 | |
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264 supremely | |
adv.无上地,崇高地 | |
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265 disastrous | |
adj.灾难性的,造成灾害的;极坏的,很糟的 | |
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266 chagrined | |
adj.懊恼的,苦恼的v.使懊恼,使懊丧,使悔恨( chagrin的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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267 conspiracy | |
n.阴谋,密谋,共谋 | |
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