Maggie’s new uneasiness might have had time to drop, inasmuch as she not only was conscious, during several days that followed, of no fresh indication for it to feed on, but was even struck, in quite another way, with an augmentation of the symptoms of that difference she had taken it into her head to work for. She recognised by the end of a week that if she had been in a manner caught up her father had been not less so — with the effect of her husband’s and his wife’s closing in, together, round them, and of their all having suddenly begun, as a party of four, to lead a life gregarious1, and from that reason almost hilarious2, so far as the easy sound of it went, as never before. It might have been an accident and a mere3 coincidence — so at least she said to herself at first; but a dozen chances that furthered the whole appearance had risen to the surface, pleasant pretexts4, oh certainly pleasant, as pleasant as Amerigo in particular could make them, for associated undertakings6, quite for shared adventures, for its always turning out, amusingly, that they wanted to do very much the same thing at the same time and in the same way. Funny all this was, to some extent, in the light of the fact that the father and daughter, for so long, had expressed so few positive desires; yet it would be sufficiently8 natural that if Amerigo and Charlotte HAD at last got a little tired of each other’s company they should find their relief not so much in sinking to the rather low level of their companions as in wishing to pull the latter into the train in which they so constantly moved. “We’re in the train,” Maggie mutely reflected after the dinner in Eaton Square with Lady Castledean; “we’ve suddenly waked up in it and found ourselves rushing along, very much as if we had been put in during sleep — shoved, like a pair of labelled boxes, into the van. And since I wanted to ‘go’ I’m certainly going,” she might have added; “I’m moving without trouble — they’re doing it all for us: it’s wonderful how they understand and how perfectly9 it succeeds.” For that was the thing she had most immediately to acknowledge: it seemed as easy for them to make a quartette as it had formerly10 so long appeared for them to make a pair of couples — this latter being thus a discovery too absurdly belated. The only point at which, day after day, the success appeared at all qualified11 was represented, as might have been said, by her irresistible12 impulse to give her father a clutch when the train indulged in one of its occasional lurches. Then — there was no denying it — his eyes and her own met; so that they were themselves doing active violence, as against the others, to that very spirit of union, or at least to that very achievement of change, which she had taken the field to invoke13.
The maximum of change was reached, no doubt, the day the Matcham party dined in Portland Place; the day, really perhaps, of Maggie’s maximum of social glory, in the sense of its showing for her own occasion, her very own, with every one else extravagantly14 rallying and falling in, absolutely conspiring15 to make her its heroine. It was as if her father himself, always with more initiative as a guest than as a host, had dabbled16 too in the conspiracy17; and the impression was not diminished by the presence of the Assinghams, likewise very much caught-up, now, after something of a lull18, by the side-wind of all the rest of the motion, and giving our young woman, so far at least as Fanny was concerned, the sense of some special intention of encouragement and applause. Fanny, who had not been present at the other dinner, thanks to a preference entertained and expressed by Charlotte, made a splendid show at this one, in new orange-coloured velvet19 with multiplied turquoises20, and with a confidence, furthermore, as different as possible, her hostess inferred, from her too-marked betrayal of a belittled21 state at Matcham. Maggie was not indifferent to her own opportunity to redress22 this balance — which seemed, for the hour, part of a general rectification23; she liked making out for herself that on the high level of Portland Place, a spot exempt24, on all sorts of grounds, from jealous jurisdictions25, her friend could feel as “good” as any one, and could in fact at moments almost appear to take the lead in recognition and celebration, so far as the evening might conduce to intensify26 the lustre27 of the little Princess. Mrs. Assingham produced on her the impression of giving her constantly her cue for this; and it was in truth partly by her help, intelligently, quite gratefully accepted, that the little Princess, in Maggie, was drawn29 out and emphasised. She couldn’t definitely have said how it happened, but she felt herself, for the first time in her career, living up to the public and popular notion of such a personage, as it pressed upon her from all round; rather wondering, inwardly too, while she did so, at that strange mixture in things through which the popular notion could be evidenced for her by such supposedly great ones of the earth as the Castledeans and their kind. Fanny Assingham might really have been there, at all events, like one of the assistants in the ring at the circus, to keep up the pace of the sleek30 revolving31 animal on whose back the lady in short spangled skirts should brilliantly caper33 and posture34. That was all, doubtless Maggie had forgotten, had neglected, had declined, to be the little Princess on anything like the scale open to her; but now that the collective hand had been held out to her with such alacrity35, so that she might skip up into the light, even, as seemed to her modest mind, with such a show of pink stocking and such an abbreviation of white petticoat, she could strike herself as perceiving, under arched eyebrows36, where her mistake had been. She had invited for the later hours, after her dinner, a fresh contingent37, the whole list of her apparent London acquaintance — which was again a thing in the manner of little princesses for whom the princely art was a matter of course. That was what she was learning to do, to fill out as a matter of course her appointed, her expected, her imposed character; and, though there were latent considerations that somewhat interfered38 with the lesson, she was having to-night an inordinate39 quantity of practice, none of it so successful as when, quite wittingly, she directed it at Lady Castledean, who was reduced by it at last to an unprecedented40 state of passivity. The perception of this high result caused Mrs. Assingham fairly to flush with responsive joy; she glittered at her young friend, from moment to moment, quite feverishly41; it was positively43 as if her young friend had, in some marvellous, sudden, supersubtle way, become a source of succour to herself, become beautifully, divinely retributive. The intensity44 of the taste of these registered phenomena45 was in fact that somehow, by a process and through a connexion not again to be traced, she so practised, at the same time, on Amerigo and Charlotte — with only the drawback, her constant check and second-thought, that she concomitantly practised perhaps still more on her father.
This last was a danger indeed that, for much of the ensuing time, had its hours of strange beguilement46 — those at which her sense for precautions so suffered itself to lapse47 that she felt her communion with him more intimate than any other. It COULDN’T but pass between them that something singular was happening — so much as this she again and again said to herself; whereby the comfort of it was there, after all, to be noted48, just as much as the possible peril49, and she could think of the couple they formed together as groping, with sealed lips, but with mutual50 looks that had never been so tender, for some freedom, some fiction, some figured bravery, under which they might safely talk of it. The moment was to come — and it finally came with an effect as penetrating51 as the sound that follows the pressure of an electric button — when she read the least helpful of meanings into the agitation52 she had created. The merely specious53 description of their case would have been that, after being for a long time, as a family, delightfully54, uninterruptedly happy, they had still had a new felicity to discover; a felicity for which, blessedly, her father’s appetite and her own, in particular, had been kept fresh and grateful. This livelier march of their intercourse55 as a whole was the thing that occasionally determined56 in him the clutching instinct we have glanced at; very much as if he had said to her, in default of her breaking silence first: “Everything is remarkably57 pleasant, isn’t it?— but WHERE, for it, after all, are we? up in a balloon and whirling through space, or down in the depths of the earth, in the glimmering58 passages of a gold-mine?” The equilibrium59, the precious condition, lasted in spite of rearrangement; there had been a fresh distribution of the different weights, but the balance persisted and triumphed: all of which was just the reason why she was forbidden, face to face with the companion of her adventure, the experiment of a test. If they balanced they balanced — she had to take that; it deprived her of every pretext5 for arriving, by however covert60 a process, at what he thought.
But she had her hours, thus, of feeling supremely61 linked to him by the rigour of their law, and when it came over her that, all the while, the wish, on his side, to spare her might be what most worked with him, this very fact of their seeming to have nothing “inward” really to talk about wrapped him up for her in a kind of sweetness that was wanting, as a consecration62, even in her yearning63 for her husband. She was powerless, however, was only more utterly64 hushed, when the interrupting flash came, when she would have been all ready to say to him, “Yes, this is by every appearance the best time we’ve had yet; but don’t you see, all the same, how they must be working together for it, and how my very success, my success in shifting our beautiful harmony to a new basis, comes round to being their success, above all; their cleverness, their amiability65, their power to hold out, their complete possession, in short, of our life?” For how could she say as much as that without saying a great deal more? without saying “They’ll do everything in the world that suits us, save only one thing — prescribe a line for us that will make them separate.” How could she so much as imagine herself even faintly murmuring that without putting into his mouth the very words that would have made her quail66? “Separate, my dear? Do you want them to separate? Then you want US to — you and me? For how can the one separation take place without the other?” That was the question that, in spirit, she had heard him ask — with its dread67 train, moreover, of involved and connected inquiries68. Their own separation, his and hers, was of course perfectly thinkable, but only on the basis of the sharpest of reasons. Well, the sharpest, the very sharpest, would be that they could no longer afford, as it were, he to let his wife, she to let her husband, “run” them in such compact formation. And say they accepted this account of their situation as a practical finality, acting69 upon it and proceeding70 to a division, would no sombre ghosts of the smothered71 past, on either side, show, across the widening strait, pale unappeased faces, or raise, in the very passage, deprecating, denouncing hands?
Meanwhile, however such things might be, she was to have occasion to say to herself that there might be but a deeper treachery in recoveries and reassurances72. She was to feel alone again, as she had felt at the issue of her high tension with her husband during their return from meeting the Castledeans in Eaton Square. The evening in question had left her with a larger alarm, but then a lull had come — the alarm, after all, was yet to be confirmed. There came an hour, inevitably73, when she knew, with a chill, what she had feared and why; it had taken, this hour, a month to arrive, but to find it before her was thoroughly74 to recognise it, for it showed her sharply what Amerigo had meant in alluding75 to a particular use that they might make, for their reaffirmed harmony and prosperity, of Charlotte. The more she thought, at present, of the tone he had employed to express their enjoyment76 of this resource, the more it came back to her as the product of a conscious art of dealing77 with her. He had been conscious, at the moment, of many things — conscious even, not a little, of desiring; and thereby78 of needing, to see what she would do in a given case. The given case would be that of her being to a certain extent, as she might fairly make it out, MENACED— horrible as it was to impute79 to him any intention represented by such a word. Why it was that to speak of making her stepmother intervene, as they might call it, in a question that seemed, just then and there, quite peculiarly their own business — why it was that a turn so familiar and so easy should, at the worst, strike her as charged with the spirit of a threat, was an oddity disconnected, for her, temporarily, from its grounds, the adventure of an imagination within her that possibly had lost its way. That, precisely80, was doubtless why she had learned to wait, as the weeks passed by, with a fair, or rather indeed with an excessive, imitation of resumed serenity81. There had been no prompt sequel to the Prince’s equivocal light, and that made for patience; yet she was none the less to have to admit, after delay, that the bread he had cast on the waters had come home, and that she should thus be justified82 of her old apprehension83. The consequence of this, in turn, was a renewed pang32 in presence of his remembered ingenuity84. To be ingenious with HER— what DIDN’T, what mightn’t that mean, when she had so absolutely never, at any point of contact with him, put him, by as much as the value of a penny, to the expense of sparing, doubting, fearing her, of having in any way whatever to reckon with her? The ingenuity had been in his simply speaking of their use of Charlotte as if it were common to them in an equal degree, and his triumph, on the occasion, had been just in the simplicity85. She couldn’t — and he knew it — say what was true: “Oh, you ‘use’ her, and I use her, if you will, yes; but we use her ever so differently and separately — not at all in the same way or degree. There’s nobody we really use together but ourselves, don’t you see?— by which I mean that where our interests are the same I can so beautifully, so exquisitely86 serve you for everything, and you can so beautifully, so exquisitely serve me. The only person either of us needs is the other of us; so why, as a matter of course, in such a case as this, drag in Charlotte?”
She couldn’t so challenge him, because it would have been — and there she was paralysed — the NOTE. It would have translated itself on the spot, for his ear, into jealousy87; and, from reverberation88 to repercussion89, would have reached her father’s exactly in the form of a cry piercing the stillness of peaceful sleep. It had been for many days almost as difficult for her to catch a quiet twenty minutes with her father as it had formerly been easy; there had been in fact, of old — the time, so strangely, seemed already far away — an inevitability90 in her longer passages with him, a sort of domesticated91 beauty in the calculability, round about them, of everything. But at present Charlotte was almost always there when Amerigo brought her to Eaton Square, where Amerigo was constantly bringing her; and Amerigo was almost always there when Charlotte brought her husband to Portland Place, where Charlotte was constantly bringing HIM. The fractions of occasions, the chance minutes that put them face to face had, as yet, of late, contrived92 to count but little, between them, either for the sense of opportunity or for that of exposure; inasmuch as the lifelong rhythm of their intercourse made against all cursory93 handling of deep things. They had never availed themselves of any given quarter-of-an-hour to gossip about fundamentals; they moved slowly through large still spaces; they could be silent together, at any time, beautifully, with much more comfort than hurriedly expressive94. It appeared indeed to have become true that their common appeal measured itself, for vividness, just by this economy of sound; they might have been talking “at” each other when they talked with their companions, but these latter, assuredly, were not in any directer way to gain light on the current phase of their relation. Such were some of the reasons for which Maggie suspected fundamentals, as I have called them, to be rising, by a new movement, to the surface — suspected it one morning late in May, when her father presented himself in Portland Place alone. He had his pretext — of that she was fully28 aware: the Principino, two days before, had shown signs, happily not persistent95, of a feverish42 cold and had notoriously been obliged to spend the interval96 at home. This was ground, ample ground, for punctual inquiry97; but what it wasn’t ground for, she quickly found herself reflecting, was his having managed, in the interest of his visit, to dispense98 so unwontedly — as their life had recently come to be arranged — with his wife’s attendance. It had so happened that she herself was, for the hour, exempt from her husband’s, and it will at once be seen that the hour had a quality all its own when I note that, remembering how the Prince had looked in to say he was going out, the Princess whimsically wondered if their respective sposi mightn’t frankly99 be meeting, whimsically hoped indeed they were temporarily so disposed of. Strange was her need, at moments, to think of them as not attaching an excessive importance to their repudiation100 of the general practice that had rested only a few weeks before on such a consecrated101 rightness. Repudiations, surely, were not in the air — they had none of them come to that; for wasn’t she at this minute testifying directly against them by her own behaviour? When she should confess to fear of being alone with her father, to fear of what he might then — ah, with such a slow, painful motion as she had a horror of!— say to her, THEN would be time enough for Amerigo and Charlotte to confess to not liking102 to appear to foregather.
She had this morning a wonderful consciousness both of dreading103 a particular question from him and of being able to check, yes even to disconcert, magnificently, by her apparent manner of receiving it, any restless imagination he might have about its importance. The day, bright and soft, had the breath of summer; it made them talk, to begin with, of Fawns104, of the way Fawns invited — Maggie aware, the while, that in thus regarding, with him, the sweetness of its invitation to one couple just as much as to another, her humbugging smile grew very nearly convulsive. That was it, and there was relief truly, of a sort, in taking it in: she was humbugging him already, by absolute necessity, as she had never, never done in her life — doing it up to the full height of what she had allowed for. The necessity, in the great dimly-shining room where, declining, for his reasons, to sit down, he moved about in Amerigo’s very footsteps, the necessity affected105 her as pressing upon her with the very force of the charm itself; of the old pleasantness, between them, so candidly106 playing up there again; of the positive flatness of their tenderness, a surface all for familiar use, quite as if generalised from the long succession of tapestried107 sofas, sweetly faded, on which his theory of contentment had sat, through unmeasured pauses, beside her own. She KNEW, from this instant, knew in advance and as well as anything would ever teach her, that she must never intermit for a solitary108 second her so highly undertaking7 to prove that there was nothing the matter with her. She saw, of a sudden, everything she might say or do in the light of that undertaking, established connections from it with any number of remote matters, struck herself, for instance, as acting all in its interest when she proposed their going out, in the exercise of their freedom and in homage109 to the season, for a turn in the Regent’s Park. This resort was close at hand, at the top of Portland Place, and the Principino, beautifully better, had already proceeded there under high attendance: all of which considerations were defensive110 for Maggie, all of which became, to her mind, part of the business of cultivating continuity.
Upstairs, while she left him to put on something to go out in, the thought of his waiting below for her, in possession of the empty house, brought with it, sharply if briefly111, one of her abrupt112 arrests of consistency113, the brush of a vain imagination almost paralysing her, often, for the minute, before her glass — the vivid look, in other words, of the particular difference his marriage had made. The particular difference seemed at such instants the loss, more than anything else, of their old freedom, their never having had to think, where they were together concerned, of any one, of anything but each other. It hadn’t been HER marriage that did it; that had never, for three seconds, suggested to either of them that they must act diplomatically, must reckon with another presence — no, not even with her husband’s. She groaned114 to herself, while the vain imagination lasted, “WHY did he marry? ah, why DID he?” and then it came up to her more than ever that nothing could have been more beautiful than the way in which, till Charlotte came so much more closely into their life, Amerigo hadn’t interfered. What she had gone on owing him for this mounted up again, to her eyes, like a column of figures —— or call it even, if one would, a house of cards; it was her father’s wonderful act that had tipped the house down and made the sum wrong. With all of which, immediately after her question, her “Why did he, why did he?” rushed back, inevitably, the confounding, the overwhelming wave of the knowledge of his reason. “He did it for ME, he did it for me,” she moaned, “he did it, exactly, that our freedom — meaning, beloved man, simply and solely115 mine — should be greater instead of less; he did it, divinely, to liberate116 me so far as possible from caring what became of him.” She found time upstairs, even in her haste, as she had repeatedly found time before, to let the wonderments involved in these recognitions flash at her with their customary effect of making her blink: the question in especial of whether she might find her solution in acting, herself, in the spirit of what he had done, in forcing her “care” really to grow as much less as he had tried to make it. Thus she felt the whole weight of their case drop afresh upon her shoulders, was confronted, unmistakably, with the prime source of her haunted state. It all came from her not having been able not to mind — not to mind what became of him; not having been able, without anxiety, to let him go his way and take his risk and lead his life. She had made anxiety her stupid little idol117; and absolutely now, while she stuck a long pin, a trifle fallaciously, into her hat — she had, with an approach to irritation118, told her maid, a new woman, whom she had lately found herself thinking of as abysmal119, that she didn’t want her — she tried to focus the possibility of some understanding between them in consequence of which he should cut loose.
Very near indeed it looked, any such possibility! that consciousness, too, had taken its turn by the time she was ready; all the vibration120, all the emotion of this present passage being, precisely, in the very sweetness of their lapse back into the conditions of the simpler time, into a queer resemblance between the aspect and the feeling of the moment and those of numberless other moments that were sufficiently far away. She had been quick in her preparation, in spite of the flow of the tide that sometimes took away her breath; but a pause, once more, was still left for her to make, a pause, at the top of the stairs, before she came down to him, in the span of which she asked herself if it weren’t thinkable, from the perfectly practical point of view, that she should simply sacrifice him. She didn’t go into the detail of what sacrificing him would mean — she didn’t need to; so distinct was it, in one of her restless lights, that there he was awaiting her, that she should find him walking up and down the drawing-room in the warm, fragrant121 air to which the open windows and the abundant flowers contributed; slowly and vaguely122 moving there and looking very slight and young and, superficially, manageable, almost as much like her child, putting it a little freely, as like her parent; with the appearance about him, above all, of having perhaps arrived just on purpose to SAY it to her, himself, in so many words: “Sacrifice me, my own love; do sacrifice me, do sacrifice me!” Should she want to, should she insist on it, she might verily hear him bleating123 it at her, all conscious and all accommodating, like some precious, spotless, exceptionally intelligent lamb. The positive effect of the intensity of this figure, however, was to make her shake it away in her resumed descent; and after she had rejoined him, after she had picked him up, she was to know the full pang of the thought that her impossibility was MADE, absolutely, by his consciousness, by the lucidity124 of his intention: this she felt while she smiled there for him, again, all hypocritically; while she drew on fair, fresh gloves; while she interrupted the process first to give his necktie a slightly smarter twist and then to make up to him for her hidden madness by rubbing her nose into his cheek according to the tradition of their frankest levity125.
From the instant she should be able to convict him of intending, every issue would be closed and her hypocrisy126 would have to redouble. The only way to sacrifice him would be to do so without his dreaming what it might be for. She kissed him, she arranged his cravat127, she dropped remarks, she guided him out, she held his arm, not to be led, but to lead him, and taking it to her by much the same intimate pressure she had always used, when a little girl, to mark the inseparability of her doll — she did all these things so that he should sufficiently fail to dream of what they might be for.
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gregarious
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| adj.群居的，喜好群居的 | |
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hilarious
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| adj.充满笑声的，欢闹的；[反]depressed | |
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mere
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| adj.纯粹的；仅仅，只不过 | |
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pretexts
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| n.借口，托辞( pretext的名词复数 ) | |
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pretext
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| n.借口，托词 | |
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undertakings
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| 企业( undertaking的名词复数 )； 保证； 殡仪业； 任务 | |
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undertaking
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| n.保证，许诺，事业 | |
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sufficiently
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| adv.足够地，充分地 | |
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perfectly
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| adv.完美地，无可非议地，彻底地 | |
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formerly
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| adv.从前，以前 | |
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qualified
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| adj.合格的，有资格的，胜任的，有限制的 | |
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irresistible
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| adj.非常诱人的，无法拒绝的，无法抗拒的 | |
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invoke
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| v.求助于(神、法律)；恳求，乞求 | |
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extravagantly
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| adv.挥霍无度地 | |
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conspiring
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| 密谋( conspire的现在分词 )； 搞阴谋； （事件等）巧合； 共同导致 | |
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dabbled
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| v.涉猎( dabble的过去式和过去分词 )；涉足；浅尝；少量投资 | |
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conspiracy
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| n.阴谋，密谋，共谋 | |
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lull
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| v.使安静，使入睡，缓和，哄骗；n.暂停，间歇 | |
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velvet
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| n.丝绒，天鹅绒；adj.丝绒制的，柔软的 | |
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turquoises
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| n.绿松石( turquoise的名词复数 )；青绿色 | |
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belittled
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| 使显得微小，轻视，贬低( belittle的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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redress
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| n.赔偿，救济，矫正；v.纠正，匡正，革除 | |
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rectification
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| n. 改正, 改订, 矫正 | |
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exempt
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| adj.免除的；v.使免除；n.免税者，被免除义务者 | |
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jurisdictions
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| 司法权( jurisdiction的名词复数 )； 裁判权； 管辖区域； 管辖范围 | |
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intensify
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| vt.加强；变强；加剧 | |
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lustre
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| n.光亮，光泽；荣誉 | |
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fully
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| adv.完全地，全部地，彻底地；充分地 | |
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drawn
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| v.拖，拉，拔出；adj.憔悴的，紧张的 | |
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sleek
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| adj.光滑的，井然有序的；v.使光滑，梳拢 | |
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revolving
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| adj.旋转的，轮转式的；循环的v.（使）旋转( revolve的现在分词 )；细想 | |
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pang
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| n.剧痛，悲痛，苦闷 | |
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caper
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| v.雀跃，欢蹦；n.雀跃，跳跃；续随子，刺山柑花蕾；嬉戏 | |
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posture
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| n.姿势，姿态，心态，态度；v.作出某种姿势 | |
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35
alacrity
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| n.敏捷，轻快，乐意 | |
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36
eyebrows
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| 眉毛( eyebrow的名词复数 ) | |
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37
contingent
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| adj.视条件而定的；n.一组，代表团，分遣队 | |
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38
interfered
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| v.干预( interfere的过去式和过去分词 )；调停；妨碍；干涉 | |
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39
inordinate
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| adj.无节制的；过度的 | |
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40
unprecedented
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| adj.无前例的，新奇的 | |
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41
feverishly
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| adv. 兴奋地 | |
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42
feverish
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| adj.发烧的，狂热的，兴奋的 | |
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43
positively
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| adv.明确地，断然，坚决地；实在，确实 | |
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44
intensity
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| n.强烈，剧烈；强度；烈度 | |
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45
phenomena
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| n.现象 | |
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46
beguilement
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| n.欺骗，散心，欺瞒 | |
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47
lapse
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| n.过失，流逝，失效，抛弃信仰，间隔；vi.堕落，停止，失效，流逝；vt.使失效 | |
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48
noted
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| adj.著名的，知名的 | |
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49
peril
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| n.(严重的)危险；危险的事物 | |
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50
mutual
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| adj.相互的，彼此的；共同的，共有的 | |
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51
penetrating
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| adj.（声音）响亮的，尖锐的adj.（气味）刺激的adj.（思想）敏锐的，有洞察力的 | |
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52
agitation
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| n.搅动；搅拌；鼓动，煽动 | |
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53
specious
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| adj.似是而非的；adv.似是而非地 | |
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54
delightfully
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| 大喜，欣然 | |
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55
intercourse
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| n.性交；交流，交往，交际 | |
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56
determined
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| adj.坚定的；有决心的 | |
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57
remarkably
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| ad.不同寻常地，相当地 | |
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58
glimmering
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| n.微光，隐约的一瞥adj.薄弱地发光的v.发闪光，发微光( glimmer的现在分词 ) | |
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59
equilibrium
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| n.平衡，均衡，相称，均势，平静 | |
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60
covert
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| adj.隐藏的；暗地里的 | |
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61
supremely
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| adv.无上地，崇高地 | |
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62
consecration
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| n.供献，奉献，献祭仪式 | |
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63
yearning
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| a.渴望的；向往的；怀念的 | |
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64
utterly
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| adv.完全地，绝对地 | |
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65
amiability
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| n.和蔼可亲的，亲切的，友善的 | |
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66
quail
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| n.鹌鹑；vi.畏惧，颤抖 | |
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67
dread
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| vt.担忧，忧虑；惧怕，不敢；n.担忧，畏惧 | |
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68
inquiries
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| n.调查( inquiry的名词复数 )；疑问；探究；打听 | |
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69
acting
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| n.演戏，行为，假装；adj.代理的，临时的，演出用的 | |
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70
proceeding
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| n.行动，进行，(pl.)会议录，学报 | |
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71
smothered
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| （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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72
reassurances
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| n.消除恐惧或疑虑( reassurance的名词复数 )；恢复信心；使人消除恐惧或疑虑的事物；使人恢复信心的事物 | |
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73
inevitably
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| adv.不可避免地；必然发生地 | |
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74
thoroughly
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| adv.完全地，彻底地，十足地 | |
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75
alluding
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| 提及，暗指( allude的现在分词 ) | |
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76
enjoyment
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| n.乐趣；享有；享用 | |
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77
dealing
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| n.经商方法，待人态度 | |
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78
thereby
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| adv.因此，从而 | |
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79
impute
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| v.归咎于 | |
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80
precisely
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| adv.恰好，正好，精确地，细致地 | |
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81
serenity
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| n.宁静，沉着，晴朗 | |
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82
justified
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| a.正当的，有理的 | |
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83
apprehension
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| n.理解，领悟；逮捕，拘捕；忧虑 | |
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84
ingenuity
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| n.别出心裁；善于发明创造 | |
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85
simplicity
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| n.简单，简易；朴素；直率，单纯 | |
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86
exquisitely
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| adv.精致地；强烈地；剧烈地；异常地 | |
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87
jealousy
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| n.妒忌，嫉妒，猜忌 | |
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88
reverberation
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| 反响； 回响； 反射； 反射物 | |
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89
repercussion
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| n.[常pl.](不良的)影响，反响，后果 | |
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90
inevitability
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| n.必然性 | |
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91
domesticated
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| adj.喜欢家庭生活的；（指动物）被驯养了的v.驯化( domesticate的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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92
contrived
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| adj.不自然的，做作的；虚构的 | |
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93
cursory
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| adj.粗略的；草率的；匆促的 | |
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94
expressive
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| adj.表现的，表达…的，富于表情的 | |
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95
persistent
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| adj.坚持不懈的，执意的；持续的 | |
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96
interval
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| n.间隔，间距；幕间休息，中场休息 | |
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97
inquiry
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| n.打听，询问，调查，查问 | |
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98
dispense
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| vt.分配，分发；配(药)，发(药)；实施 | |
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99
frankly
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| adv.坦白地，直率地；坦率地说 | |
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100
repudiation
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| n.拒绝；否认；断绝关系；抛弃 | |
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101
consecrated
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| adj.神圣的，被视为神圣的v.把…奉为神圣，给…祝圣( consecrate的过去式和过去分词 )；奉献 | |
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102
liking
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| n.爱好；嗜好；喜欢 | |
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103
dreading
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| v.害怕，恐惧，担心( dread的现在分词 ) | |
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104
fawns
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| n.（未满一岁的）幼鹿( fawn的名词复数 )；浅黄褐色；乞怜者；奉承者v.（尤指狗等）跳过来往人身上蹭以示亲热( fawn的第三人称单数 )；巴结；讨好 | |
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105
affected
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| adj.不自然的，假装的 | |
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106
candidly
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| adv.坦率地，直率而诚恳地 | |
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107
tapestried
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| adj.饰挂绣帷的，织在绣帷上的v.用挂毯（或绣帷）装饰( tapestry的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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108
solitary
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| adj.孤独的，独立的，荒凉的；n.隐士 | |
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109
homage
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| n.尊敬，敬意，崇敬 | |
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110
defensive
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| adj.防御的；防卫的；防守的 | |
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111
briefly
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| adv.简单地，简短地 | |
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112
abrupt
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| adj.突然的，意外的；唐突的，鲁莽的 | |
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113
consistency
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| n.一贯性，前后一致，稳定性；(液体的)浓度 | |
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114
groaned
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| v.呻吟( groan的过去式和过去分词 )；发牢骚；抱怨；受苦 | |
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115
solely
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| adv.仅仅，唯一地 | |
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116
liberate
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| v.解放，使获得自由，释出，放出；vt.解放，使获自由 | |
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117
idol
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| n.偶像，红人，宠儿 | |
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118
irritation
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| n.激怒，恼怒，生气 | |
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119
abysmal
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| adj.无底的，深不可测的，极深的；糟透的，极坏的；完全的 | |
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120
vibration
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| n.颤动，振动；摆动 | |
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121
fragrant
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| adj.芬香的，馥郁的，愉快的 | |
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122
vaguely
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| adv.含糊地，暖昧地 | |
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123
bleating
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| v.（羊，小牛）叫( bleat的现在分词 )；哭诉；发出羊叫似的声音；轻声诉说 | |
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124
lucidity
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| n.明朗，清晰，透明 | |
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125
levity
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| n.轻率，轻浮，不稳定，多变 | |
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126
hypocrisy
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| n.伪善，虚伪 | |
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127
cravat
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| n.领巾，领结；v.使穿有领结的服装，使结领结 | |
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