Just as he reached Sturk’s door, wagging his head and strutting1 grimly — and, palpably, still in debate with Dirty Davy — his thoughts received a sudden wrench2 in a different direction by the arrival of Mr. Justice Lowe, who pulled up his famous gray hunter at the steps of the house by the church-yard.
‘You see, Doctor Toole, it won’t do, waiting. The thing’s too momentous3.’
And so they walked up stairs and into the drawing-room, and sent their compliments to Mrs. Sturk, who came down in deshabille, with her things pinned about her, and all over smiles. Poor little woman! Toole had not observed until now how very thin she had grown.
‘He’s going on delightfully5, gentlemen; he drank a whole cup of tea, weak of course, Doctor Toole, as you bid me; and he eat a slice of toast, and liked it, and two Naples biscuits, Mr. Lowe, and I know he’ll be delighted to see you.’
‘Very good, Madam, very good,’ said Toole.
‘And he’s looking better already. He waked out of that sweet sleep not ten minutes after you left this morning.’
‘Ay, he was sleeping very quietly,’ said Toole to Lowe. ‘May we go up, Ma’am?’
‘Oh! he’ll be overjoyed, gentlemen, to see you, and ’twill do him an infinity6 of good. I can scarce believe my eyes. We’ve been tidying the study, the maid and I, and airing the cushions of his chair;’ and she laughed a delighted little giggle7. ‘And even the weather has taken up such beautiful sunshine; everything favourable8.’
‘Well, Doctor Sturk,’ said Toole, cheerily, ‘we have a good account of you — a vastly good account, doctor; and, by St. George, Sir, we’ve been tidying —’
He was going to say the study, but little Mrs. Sturk put her finger to her lip in a wonderful hurry, raising her eyebrows9 and drawing a breath through her rounded lips, in such sort as arrested the sentence; for she knew how Barney’s wrath10 always broke out when he thought the women had been in his study, and how he charged every missing paper for a month after upon their cursed meddling11. But Sturk was a good deal gentler now, and had a dull and awful sort of apathy12 upon him; and I think it was all one to him whether the women had been in the study or not. So Toole said instead —
‘We’ve been thinking of getting you down in a little while, doctor, if all goes pleasantly; ’tis a lovely day, and a good omen4 — see how the sun shines in at the curtain.’
But there was no responsive sunshine upon Sturk’s stern; haggard face, as he said very low — still looking on the foot-board —‘I thank you, doctor.’
So after a few more questions, and a little bit of talk with Mrs. Sturk, they got that good lady out of the room, and said Lowe to the patient —
‘I’m sorry to trouble you, Dr. Sturk, but there’s a weighty matter at which you last night hinted; and Dr. Toole thought you then too weak; and in your present state, I would not now ask you to speak at any length, were the matter of less serious moment.’
‘Yes, Sir,’ said Sturk, but did not seem about to speak any more; and after a few seconds, Lowe continued.
‘I mean, Dr. Sturk, touching14 the murder of Mr. Beauclerc, which you then said was committed by the same Charles Archer15, who assaulted you in the park.’
‘Ay, Sir,’ said Sturk.
‘The same murder of which Lord Dunoran was adjudged guilty.’
Sturk moved his lips with a sort of nod.
‘And, Doctor Sturk, you remember you then said you had yourself seen Charles Archer do that murder.’
Sturk lifted his hand feebly enough to his forehead, and his lips moved, and his eyes closed. They thought he was praying — possibly he was; so they did not interrupt him; and he said, all on a sudden, but in a low dejected way, and with many pauses —
‘Charles Archer. I never saw another such face; ’tis always before me. He was a man that everybody knew was dangerous — a damnable profligate16 besides — and, as all believed, capable of anything, though nobody could actually bring anything clearly home to him but his bloody17 duels18, which, however, were fairly fought. I saw him only thrice in my life before I saw him here. In a place, at Newmarket, where they played hazard, was once; and I saw him fight Beau Langton; and I saw him murder Mr. Beauclerc. I saw it all!’ And the doctor swore a shuddering19 oath.
‘I lay in the small room or closet, off the chamber20 in which he slept. I was suffering under a bad fracture, and dosed with opium21. ’Tis all very strange, Sir. I saw everything that happened. I saw him stab Beauclerc. Don’t question me; it tires me. I think ’twas a dagger22. It looked like a small bayonet I’ll tell you how — all, by-and-by.’
He sipped23 a little wine and water, and wiped his lips with a very tremulous handkerchief.
‘I never spoke24 of it, for I could not. The whole of that five minutes’ work slipped from my mind, and was gone quite and clean when I awoke. What I saw I could not interrupt. I was in a cataleptic state, I suppose. I could not speak; but I saw like a lynx, and heard every whisper. When I awakened25 in the morning I remembered nothing. I did not know I had a secret. The knowledge was sealed up until the time came. A sight of Charles Archer’s face at any time would have had, as I suppose, the same effect. When I saw him here, the first time, it was at the general’s at Belmont; though he was changed by time, and carefully disguised, all would not do. I felt the sight of him was fatal. I was quite helpless; but my mind never stopped working upon it till — till —’
‘See now,’ said Toole, ‘there’s time enough, and don’t fatigue27 yourself. There, now, rest quiet a minute.’
And he made him swallow some more wine; and felt his pulse and shook his head despondingly at Lowe, behind his back.
‘How is it?’ said Sturk, faintly.
‘A little irritable28 — that’s all,’ said Toole.
‘‘Till one night, I say,’— Sturk resumed, after a minute or two, ‘it came to me all at once, awake — I don’t know — or in a dream; in a moment I had it all. ’Twas like a page cut out of a book — lost for so many years.’ And Sturk moaned a despairing wish to Heaven that the secret had never returned to him again.
‘Yes, Sir — like a page cut out of a book, and never missed till ’twas found again; and then sharp and clear, every letter from first to last. Then, Sir — then — thinking ’twas no use at that distance of time taking steps to punish him, I— I foolishly let him understand I knew him. My mind misgave29 me from the first. I think it was my good angel that warned me. But ’tis no use now. I’m not a man to be easily frightened. But it seemed to me he was something altogether worse than a man, and like — like Satan; and too much for me every way. If I was wise I’d have left him alone. But ’tis no good fretting30 now. It was to be. I was too outspoken31 —’twas always my way — and I let him know; and — and you see, he meant to make away with me. He tried to take my life, Sir; and I think he has done it. I’ll never rise from this bed, gentlemen. I’m done for.’
‘Come, Doctor Sturk, you mustn’t talk that way, Pell will be out this evening, and Dillon may be-though faith! I don’t quite know that Pell will meet him — but we’ll put our heads together, and deuce is in it or we’ll set you on your legs again.’
Sturk was screwing his lips sternly together, and the lines of his gruff haggard face were quivering, and a sullen32 tear or two started down from his closed eye.
‘I’m — I’m a little nervous, gentlemen — I’ll be right just now I’d like to see the — the children, if they’re in the way, that’s all — by-and-by, you know.’
‘I’ve got Pell out, you see — not that there’s any special need — you know; but he was here before, and it wouldn’t do to offend him; and he’ll see you this afternoon.’
‘I thank you, Sir,’ said Sturk, in the same dejected way.
‘And, Sir,’ said Lowe, ‘if you please, I’ll get this statement into the shape of a deposition33 or information, for you see ’tis of the vastest imaginable importance, and exactly tallies34 with evidence we’ve got elsewhere, and ‘twouldn’t do, Sir, to let it slip.’
And Toole thought he saw a little flush mount into Sturk’s sunken face, and he hastened to say —
‘What we desire, Dr. Sturk, is to be able to act promptly35 in this case of my Lord Dunoran. Measures must be taken instantly, you see, for ’tis of old standing36, and not a day to be lost, and there’s why Mr. Lowe is so urgent to get your statement in white and black.’
‘And sworn to,’ added Mr. Lowe.
‘I’ll swear it,’ said Sturk, in the same sad tones.
And Mrs. Sturk came in, and Toole gave leave for chicken broth37 at twelve o’clock, about two table-spoonsful, and the same at half-past one, when he hoped to be back again. And on the lobby he gave her, with a cheery countenance38, all the ambiguous comfort he could. And Lowe asked Mrs. Sturk for more pens and paper, and himself went down to give his man a direction at the door, and on the way, in the hall, Toole looking this way and that, to see they weren’t observed, beckoned39 him into the front parlour, and, said he, in a low key —
‘The pulse is up a bit, not very much, but still I don’t like it — and very hard, you see — and what we’ve to dread40, you know’s inflammation; and he’s so shocking low, my dear Sir, we must let him have wine and other things, or we’ll lose him that way; and you see it’s a mighty41 unpleasant case.’
And coming into the hall, in a loud confident voice he cried —‘And I’ll be here again by half-past one o’clock.’
And so he beckoned to the boy with his horse to come up, and chatted in the interim42 with Mr. Lowe upon the steps, and told him how to manage him if he grew exhausted44 over his narrative45; and then mounting his nag43, and kissing his hand and waving his hat to Mrs. Sturk, who was looking out upon him from Barney’s window, he rode away for Dublin.
Toole, on reaching town, spurred on to the dingy46 residence of Mr. Luke Gamble. It must be allowed that he had no clear intention of taking any step whatsoever47 in consequence of what he might hear. But the little fellow was deuced curious; and Dirty Davy’s confidence gave him a sort of right to be satisfied.
So with his whip under his arm, and a good deal out of breath, for the stairs were steep, he bounced into the attorney’s sanctum.
‘Who’s that? Is that?— Why, bless my soul and body! ’tis yourself,’ cried Toole, after an astonished pause of a few seconds at the door, springing forward and grasping Nutter48 by both hands, and shaking them vehemently49, and grinning very joyously50 and kindly51 the while.
Nutter received him cordially, but a little sheepishly. Indeed, his experiences of life, and the situations in which he had found himself since they had last met, were rather eccentric and instructive than quite pleasant to remember. And Nutter, in his way, was a proud fellow, and neither liked to be gaped52 at nor pitied.
But Toole was a thorough partisan53 of his, and had been urgent for permission to see him in gaol54, and they knew how true he had been to poor Sally Nutter, and altogether felt very much at home with him.
So sitting in that twilight55 room, flanked with piles of expended56 briefs, and surrounded with neatly57 docketed packets of attested58 copies, notices, affidavits59, and other engines of legal war — little Toole having expended his congratulations, and his private knowledge of Sturk’s revelations, fell upon the immediate60 subject of his visit.
‘That rogue61, Davy O’Reegan, looked in on me not an hour ago, at the Phoenix62’ (and he gave them a very spirited, but I’m afraid a somewhat fanciful description of the combat.) ‘And I’m afraid he’ll give us a deal of trouble yet. He told me that the certificate —’
‘Ay — here’s a copy;’ and Luke Gamble threw a paper on the table before him.
‘That’s it — Mary Duncan — 1750 — the very thing — the rascal63! Well, he said, you know, but I knew better, that you had admitted the certificate formally.’
‘So I have. Sir,’ said. Mr. Gamble, drily, stuffing his hands into his breeches’ pockets, and staring straight at Toole with elevated eyebrows, and as the little doctor thought, with a very odd expression in his eyes.
‘You have, Sir?’
‘I have!’ and then followed a little pause, and Mr. Gamble said —
‘I did so, Sir, because there’s no disputing it — and — and I think, Doctor Toole, I know something of my business.’
There was another pause, during which Toole, flushed and shocked, turned his gaze from Gamble to Nutter.
‘’Tis a true bill, then?’ said Toole, scarcely above his breath, and very dismally64.
A swarthy flush covered Nutter’s dark face. The man was ashamed.
‘’Tis nigh eighteen years ago, Sir,’ said Nutter embarrassed, as he well might be. ‘I was a younger man, then, and was bit, Sir, as many another has been, and that’s all.’
Toole got up, stood before the fire-place, and hung his head, with compressed lips, and there was a silence, interrupted by the hard man of the law, who was now tumbling over his papers in search of a document, and humming a tune65 as he did so.
‘It may be a good move for Charles Nutter, Sir, but it looks very like a checkmate for poor Sally,’ muttered Toole angrily.
Mr. Luke Gamble either did not hear him, or did not care a farthing what he said; and he hummed his tune very contentedly66.
‘And I had, moreover,’ said he, ‘to make another admission for the same reason, videlicet, that Mary Matchwell, who now occupies a portion of the Mills, the promovent in this suit, and Mary Duncan mentioned in that certificate, are one and the same person. Here’s our answer to their notice, admitting the fact.’
‘I thank you,’ said Toole again, rather savagely67, for a glance over his shoulder had shown him the attorney’s face grinning with malicious68 amusement, as it seemed to him, while he readjusted the packet of papers from which he had just taken the notice; ‘I saw it, Sir, your brother lawyer, Mr. O’Reegan, Sir, showed it me this morning.’
And Toole thought of poor little Sally Nutter, and all the wreck69 and ruin coming upon her and the Mills, and began to con13 over his own liabilities, and to reflect seriously whether, in some of his brisk altercations70 on her behalf with Dirty Davy and his client, he might not have committed himself rather dangerously; and especially the consequences of his morning’s collision with Davy grew in darkness and magnitude very seriously, as he reflected that his entire statement had turned out to be true, and that he and his client were on the winning side.
‘It seems to me, Sir, you might have given some of poor Mrs. Nutter’s friends at Chapelizod a hint of the state of things. I, Sir, and Father Roach — we’ve meddled71, Sir, more in the business — than — than — but no matter now — and all under a delusion72, Sir. And poor Mistress Sally Nutter — she doesn’t seem to trouble you much, Sir.’
He observed that the attorney was chuckling73 to himself still more and more undisguisedly, as he slipped the notice back again into its place.
‘You gentlemen of the law think of nothing, Sir, but your clients. I suppose ’tis a good rule, but it may be pushed somewhat far. And what do you propose to do for poor Mistress Sally Nutter?’ demanded Toole, very sternly, for his blood was up.
‘She has heard from us this morning,’ said Mr. Gamble, grining on his watch, ‘and she knows all by this time, and ‘tisn’t a button to her.’
And the attorney laughed in his face; and Nutter who had looked sulky and uncomfortable, could resist no longer, and broke into a queer responsive grin. It seemed to Toole like a horrid74 dream.
There was a tap at the door just at this moment.
‘Come in,’ cried Mr. Gamble, still exploding in comfortable little bursts of half-suppressed laughter.
‘Oh! ’tis you? Very good, Sir,’ said Mr. Gamble, sobering a little. He was the same lanky75, vulgar, and slightly-squinting gentleman, pitted with the small-pox, whom Toole had seen on a former occasion. And the little doctor thought he looked even more cunning and meaner than before. Everything had grown to look repulsive76, and every face was sinister77 now; and the world began to look like a horrible masquerade, full of half-detected murderers, traitors78, and miscreants79.
‘There isn’t a soul you can trust —’tis enough to turn a man’s head; ’tis sickening, by George!’ grumbled80 the little doctor, fiercely.
‘Here’s a gentleman, Sir,’ said Gamble, waving his pen towards Toole, with a chuckle81, ‘who believes that ladies like to recover their husbands.’
The fellow grew red, and grinned a sly uneasy grin, looking stealthily at Toole, who was rapidly growing angry.
‘Yes, Sir, and one who believes, too, that gentlemen ought to protect their wives,’ added the little doctor hotly.
‘As soon as they know who they are,’ muttered the attorney to his papers.
‘I think, gentlemen, I’m rather in your way,’ said Toole with a gloomy briskness82; ‘I think ’tis better I should go. I— I’m somewhat amazed, gentlemen, and I— I wish you a good-morning.’
And Toole made them a very stern bow, and walked out at the wrong door.
‘This way, by your leave, doctor,’ said Mr. Gamble, opening the right one; and at the head of the stairs he took Toole by the cuff83, and said he —
‘After all, ’tis but just the wrong Mrs. Nutter should give place to the right; and if you go down to the Mills tomorrow, you’ll find she’s by no means so bad as you think her.’
But Toole broke away from him sulkily, with —
‘I wish you a good-morning, Sir.’
It was quite true that Sally Nutter was to hear from Charles and Mr. Gamble that morning; for about the time at which Toole was in conference with those two gentlemen in Dublin, two coaches drew up at the Mills.
Mr. Gamble’s conducting gentleman was in one, and two mysterious personages sat in the other.
‘I want to see Mrs. Nutter,’ said Mr. Gamble’s emissary.
‘Mrs. Nutter’s in the parlour, at your service,’ answered the lean maid who had opened the door, and who recognising in that gentleman an adherent84 of the enemy, had assumed her most impertinent leer and tone on the instant.
The ambassador looked in and drew back.
‘Oh, then, ‘tisn’t the mistress you want, but the master’s old housekeeper85; ask her.’
And she pointed86 with her thumb towards Molly, whose head was over the banister.
So, as he followed that honest hand-maiden up stairs, he drew from his coat-pocket a bundle of papers, and glanced at their endorsements87, for he had a long exposition to make, and then some important measures to execute.
Toole had to make up for lost time; and as he rode at a smart canter into the village, he fancied he observed the signs of an unusual excitement there. There were some faces at the windows, some people on the door-steps; and a few groups in the street; they were all looking in the Dublin direction. He had a nod or two as he passed. Toole thought forthwith of Mr. David O’Reegan — people generally refer phenomena88 to what most concerns themselves — and a dim horror of some unknown summary process dismayed him; but his hall-door shone peaceably in the sun, and his boy stood whistling on the steps, with his hands in his pockets. Nobody had been there since, and Pell had not yet called at Sturk’s.
‘And what’s happened — what’s the neighbours lookin’ after?’ said Toole, as his own glance followed the general direction, so soon as he had dismounted.
‘’Twas a coach that had driven through the town, at a thundering pace, with some men inside, from the Knockmaroon direction, and a lady that was screeching89. She broke one of the coach windows in Martin’s-row, and the other — there, just opposite the Phoenix.’ The glass was glittering on the road. ‘She had rings on her hand, and her knuckles90 were bleeding, and it was said ’twas poor Mrs. Nutter going away with the keepers to a mad-house.’
Toole turned pale and ground his teeth, looking towards Dublin.
‘I passed it myself near Island-bridge; I did hear screeching, but I thought ’twas from t’other side of the wall. There was a fellow in an old blue and silver coat with the driver — eh?’
‘The same,’ said the boy; and Toole, with difficulty swallowing down his rage, hurried into the house, resolved to take Lowe’s advice on the matter, and ready to swear to poor Sally’s perfect sanity91 —‘the crature!— the villains92!’
But now he had only a moment to pull off his boots, to get into his grand costume, and seize his cane93 and his muff, too — for he sported one; and so transformed and splendid, he marched down the paved trottoir — Doctor Pell happily not yet arrived — to Sturk’s house. There was a hackney coach near the steps.
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strutting
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| 加固，支撑物 | |
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wrench
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| v.猛拧；挣脱；使扭伤；n.扳手；痛苦，难受 | |
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momentous
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| adj.重要的，重大的 | |
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omen
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| n.征兆，预兆；vt.预示 | |
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delightfully
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| 大喜，欣然 | |
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infinity
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| n.无限，无穷，大量 | |
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giggle
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| n.痴笑，咯咯地笑；v.咯咯地笑着说 | |
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favourable
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| adj.赞成的，称赞的，有利的，良好的，顺利的 | |
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eyebrows
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| 眉毛( eyebrow的名词复数 ) | |
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wrath
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| n.愤怒，愤慨，暴怒 | |
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meddling
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| v.干涉，干预（他人事务）( meddle的现在分词 ) | |
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apathy
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| n.漠不关心，无动于衷；冷淡 | |
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con
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| n.反对的观点，反对者，反对票，肺病；vt.精读，学习，默记；adv.反对地，从反面；adj.欺诈的 | |
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touching
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| adj.动人的，使人感伤的 | |
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archer
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| n.射手，弓箭手 | |
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profligate
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| adj.行为不检的；n.放荡的人，浪子，肆意挥霍者 | |
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bloody
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| adj.非常的的；流血的；残忍的；adv.很；vt.血染 | |
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duels
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| n.两男子的决斗( duel的名词复数 )；竞争，斗争 | |
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shuddering
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| v.战栗( shudder的现在分词 )；发抖；（机器、车辆等）突然震动；颤动 | |
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chamber
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| n.房间，寝室；会议厅；议院；会所 | |
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opium
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| n.鸦片；adj.鸦片的 | |
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dagger
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| n.匕首，短剑，剑号 | |
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sipped
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| v.小口喝，呷，抿( sip的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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spoke
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| n.（车轮的）辐条；轮辐；破坏某人的计划；阻挠某人的行动 v.讲，谈（speak的过去式）；说；演说；从某种观点来说 | |
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awakened
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| v.（使）醒( awaken的过去式和过去分词 )；（使）觉醒；弄醒；（使）意识到 | |
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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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fatigue
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| n.疲劳，劳累 | |
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irritable
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| adj.急躁的；过敏的；易怒的 | |
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misgave
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| v.使（某人的情绪、精神等）疑虑，担忧，害怕( misgive的过去式 ) | |
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fretting
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| n. 微振磨损 adj. 烦躁的, 焦虑的 | |
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outspoken
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| adj.直言无讳的，坦率的，坦白无隐的 | |
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sullen
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| adj.愠怒的，闷闷不乐的，(天气等)阴沉的 | |
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deposition
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| n.免职，罢官；作证；沉淀；沉淀物 | |
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tallies
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promptly
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standing
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broth
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countenance
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| n.脸色，面容；面部表情；vt.支持，赞同 | |
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beckoned
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| v.（用头或手的动作）示意，召唤( beckon的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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dread
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| vt.担忧，忧虑；惧怕，不敢；n.担忧，畏惧 | |
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mighty
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| adj.强有力的；巨大的 | |
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42
interim
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| adj.暂时的，临时的；n.间歇，过渡期间 | |
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43
nag
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| v.(对…)不停地唠叨；n.爱唠叨的人 | |
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exhausted
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| adj.极其疲惫的，精疲力尽的 | |
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narrative
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| n.叙述，故事；adj.叙事的，故事体的 | |
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dingy
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| adj.昏暗的，肮脏的 | |
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whatsoever
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| adv.（用于否定句中以加强语气）任何；pron.无论什么 | |
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48
nutter
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| n.疯子 | |
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vehemently
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| adv. 热烈地 | |
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joyously
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| ad.快乐地, 高兴地 | |
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kindly
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| adj.和蔼的，温和的，爽快的；adv.温和地，亲切地 | |
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gaped
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| v.目瞪口呆地凝视( gape的过去式和过去分词 )；张开，张大 | |
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partisan
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| adj.党派性的；游击队的；n.游击队员；党徒 | |
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54
gaol
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| n.(jail)监狱；(不加冠词)监禁；vt.使…坐牢 | |
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twilight
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| n.暮光，黄昏；暮年，晚期，衰落时期 | |
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expended
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| v.花费( expend的过去式和过去分词 )；使用（钱等）做某事；用光；耗尽 | |
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neatly
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| adv.整洁地，干净地，灵巧地，熟练地 | |
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attested
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| adj.经检验证明无病的，经检验证明无菌的v.证明( attest的过去式和过去分词 )；证实；声称…属实；使宣誓 | |
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59
affidavits
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| n.宣誓书，（经陈述者宣誓在法律上可采作证据的）书面陈述( affidavit的名词复数 ) | |
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immediate
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| adj.立即的；直接的，最接近的；紧靠的 | |
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61
rogue
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| n.流氓；v.游手好闲 | |
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62
phoenix
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| n.凤凰，长生(不死)鸟；引申为重生 | |
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rascal
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| n.流氓；不诚实的人 | |
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dismally
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| adv.阴暗地，沉闷地 | |
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tune
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| n.调子；和谐，协调；v.调音，调节，调整 | |
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contentedly
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| adv.心满意足地 | |
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savagely
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| adv. 野蛮地，残酷地 | |
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malicious
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| adj.有恶意的，心怀恶意的 | |
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wreck
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| n.失事，遇难；沉船；vt.(船等)失事，遇难 | |
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altercations
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| n.争辩，争吵( altercation的名词复数 ) | |
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meddled
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| v.干涉，干预（他人事务）( meddle的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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delusion
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| n.谬见，欺骗，幻觉，迷惑 | |
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chuckling
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| 轻声地笑( chuckle的现在分词 ) | |
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horrid
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| adj.可怕的；令人惊恐的；恐怖的；极讨厌的 | |
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lanky
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| adj.瘦长的 | |
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repulsive
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| adj.排斥的，使人反感的 | |
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sinister
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| adj.不吉利的，凶恶的，左边的 | |
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traitors
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| 卖国贼( traitor的名词复数 )； 叛徒； 背叛者； 背信弃义的人 | |
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miscreants
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| n.恶棍，歹徒( miscreant的名词复数 ) | |
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grumbled
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| 抱怨( grumble的过去式和过去分词 )； 发牢骚； 咕哝； 发哼声 | |
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81
chuckle
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| vi.／n.轻声笑，咯咯笑 | |
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82
briskness
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| n.敏捷，活泼 | |
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83
cuff
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| n.袖口；手铐；护腕；vt.用手铐铐；上袖口 | |
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84
adherent
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| n.信徒，追随者，拥护者 | |
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85
housekeeper
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| n.管理家务的主妇，女管家 | |
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pointed
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| adj.尖的，直截了当的 | |
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87
endorsements
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| n.背书( endorsement的名词复数 )；（驾驶执照上的）违章记录；（公开的）赞同；（通常为名人在广告中对某一产品的）宣传 | |
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phenomena
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| n.现象 | |
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89
screeching
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| v.发出尖叫声( screech的现在分词 )；发出粗而刺耳的声音；高叫 | |
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90
knuckles
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| n.（指人）指关节( knuckle的名词复数 )；（指动物）膝关节，踝v.（指人）指关节( knuckle的第三人称单数 )；（指动物）膝关节，踝 | |
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91
sanity
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| n.心智健全，神智正常，判断正确 | |
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92
villains
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| n.恶棍( villain的名词复数 )；罪犯；（小说、戏剧等中的）反面人物；淘气鬼 | |
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93
cane
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| n.手杖，细长的茎，藤条；v.以杖击，以藤编制的 | |
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