Our guide started on the telephone, and announced that we were to be taken to see a prisoners’ camp. In the afternoon I was to go somewhere with Stumm, but the morning was for sight-seeing. “You will see,” he told us, “how merciful is a great people. You will also see some of the hated English in our power. That will delight you. They are the forerunners4 of all their nation.”
We drove in a taxi through the suburbs and then over a stretch of flat market-garden-like country to a low rise of wooded hills. After an hour’s ride we entered the gate of what looked like a big reformatory or hospital. I believe it had been a home for destitute5 children. There were sentries6 at the gate and massive concentric circles of barbed wire through which we passed under an arch that was let down like a portcullis at nightfall. The lieutenant showed his permit, and we ran the car into a brick-paved yard and marched through a lot more sentries to the office of the commandant.
He was away from home, and we were welcomed by his deputy, a pale young man with a head nearly bald. There were introductions in German which our guide translated into Dutch, and a lot of elegant speeches about how Germany was foremost in humanity as well as martial7 valour. Then they stood us sandwiches and beer, and we formed a procession for a tour of inspection8. There were two doctors, both mild-looking men in spectacles, and a couple of warders—under-officers of the good old burly, bullying9 sort I knew well. That was the cement which kept the German Army together. Her men were nothing to boast of on the average; no more were the officers, even in crack corps10 like the Guards and the Brandenburgers; but they seemed to have an inexhaustible supply of hard, competent N.C.O.s.
We marched round the wash-houses, the recreation-ground, the kitchens, the hospital—with nobody in it save one chap with the “flu.” It didn’t seem to be badly done. This place was entirely11 for officers, and I expect it was a show place where American visitors were taken. If half the stories one heard were true there were some pretty ghastly prisons away in South and East Germany.
I didn’t half like the business. To be a prisoner has always seemed to me about the worst thing that could happen to a man. The sight of German prisoners used to give me a bad feeling inside, whereas I looked at dead Boches with nothing but satisfaction. Besides, there was the off-chance that I might be recognized. So I kept very much in the shadow whenever we passed anybody in the corridors. The few we met passed us incuriously. They saluted12 the deputy-commandant, but scarcely wasted a glance on us. No doubt they thought we were inquisitive14 Germans come to gloat over them. They looked fairly fit, but a little puffy about the eyes, like men who get too little exercise. They seemed thin, too. I expect the food, for all the commandant’s talk, was nothing to boast of. In one room people were writing letters. It was a big place with only a tiny stove to warm it, and the windows were shut so that the atmosphere was a cold frowst. In another room a fellow was lecturing on something to a dozen hearers and drawing figures on a blackboard. Some were in ordinary khaki, others in any old thing they could pick up, and most wore greatcoats. Your blood gets thin when you have nothing to do but hope against hope and think of your pals15 and the old days.
I was moving along, listening with half an ear to the lieutenant’s prattle16 and the loud explanations of the deputy-commandant, when I pitchforked into what might have been the end of my business. We were going through a sort of convalescent room, where people were sitting who had been in hospital. It was a big place, a little warmer than the rest of the building, but still abominably18 fuggy. There were about half a dozen men in the room, reading and playing games. They looked at us with lack-lustre eyes for a moment, and then returned to their occupations. Being convalescents I suppose they were not expected to get up and salute13.
All but one, who was playing Patience at a little table by which we passed. I was feeling very bad about the thing, for I hated to see these good fellows locked away in this infernal German hole when they might have been giving the Boche his deserts at the front. The commandant went first with Peter, who had developed a great interest in prisons. Then came our lieutenant with one of the doctors; then a couple of warders; and then the second doctor and myself. I was absent-minded at the moment and was last in the queue.
The Patience-player suddenly looked up and I saw his face. I’m hanged if it wasn’t Dolly Riddell, who was our brigade machine-gun officer at Loos. I had heard that the Germans had got him when they blew up a mine at the Quarries19.
I had to act pretty quick, for his mouth was agape, and I saw he was going to speak. The doctor was a yard ahead of me.
I stumbled and spilt his cards on the floor. Then I kneeled to pick them up and gripped his knee. His head bent20 to help me and I spoke21 low in his ear.
The doctor had turned to see what was the matter. I got a few more words in. “Cheer up, old man. We’re winning hands down.”
Then I began to talk excited Dutch and finished the collection of the cards. Dolly was playing his part well, smiling as if he was amused by the antics of a monkey. The others were coming back, the deputy-commandant with an angry light in his dull eye. “Speaking to the prisoners is forbidden,” he shouted.
I looked blankly at him till the lieutenant translated.
“What kind of fellow is he?” said Dolly in English to the doctor. “He spoils my game and then jabbers23 High-Dutch at me.”
Officially I knew English, and that speech of Dolly’s gave me my cue. I pretended to be very angry with the very damned Englishman, and went out of the room close by the deputy-commandant, grumbling24 like a sick jackal. After that I had to act a bit. The last place we visited was the close-confinement part where prisoners were kept as a punishment for some breach25 of the rules. They looked cheerless enough, but I pretended to gloat over the sight, and said so to the lieutenant, who passed it on to the others. I have rarely in my life felt such a cad.
On the way home the lieutenant discoursed26 a lot about prisoners and detention-camps, for at one time he had been on duty at Ruhleben. Peter, who had been in quod more than once in his life, was deeply interested and kept on questioning him. Among other things he told us was that they often put bogus prisoners among the rest, who acted as spies. If any plot to escape was hatched these fellows got into it and encouraged it. They never interfered27 till the attempt was actually made and then they had them on toast. There was nothing the Boche liked so much as an excuse for sending a poor devil to “solitary”.
That afternoon Peter and I separated. He was left behind with the lieutenant and I was sent off to the station with my bag in the company of a Landsturm sergeant28. Peter was very cross, and I didn’t care for the look of things; but I brightened up when I heard I was going somewhere with Stumm. If he wanted to see me again he must think me of some use, and if he was going to use me he was bound to let me into his game. I liked Stumm about as much as a dog likes a scorpion29, but I hankered for his society.
At the station platform, where the ornament30 of the Landsturm saved me all the trouble about tickets, I could not see my companion. I stood waiting, while a great crowd, mostly of soldiers, swayed past me and filled all the front carriages. An officer spoke to me gruffly and told me to stand aside behind a wooden rail. I obeyed, and suddenly found Stumm’s eyes looking down at me.
“You know German?” he asked sharply.
“A dozen words,” I said carelessly. “I’ve been to Windhuk and learned enough to ask for my dinner. Peter—my friend—speaks it a bit.”
“So,” said Stumm. “Well, get into the carriage. Not that one! There, thickhead!”
I did as I was bid, he followed, and the door was locked behind us. The precaution was needless, for the sight of Stumm’s profile at the platform end would have kept out the most brazen31. I wondered if I had woken up his suspicions. I must be on my guard to show no signs of intelligence if he suddenly tried me in German, and that wouldn’t be easy, for I knew it as well as I knew Dutch.
We moved into the country, but the windows were blurred32 with frost, and I saw nothing of the landscape. Stumm was busy with papers and let me alone. I read on a notice that one was forbidden to smoke, so to show my ignorance of German I pulled out my pipe. Stumm raised his head, saw what I was doing, and gruffly bade me put it away, as if he were an old lady that disliked the smell of tobacco.
In half an hour I got very bored, for I had nothing to read and my pipe was verboten. People passed now and then in the corridors, but no one offered to enter. No doubt they saw the big figure in uniform and thought he was the deuce of a staff swell33 who wanted solitude34. I thought of stretching my legs in the corridor, and was just getting up to do it when somebody slid the door back and a big figure blocked the light.
He was wearing a heavy ulster and a green felt hat. He saluted Stumm, who looked up angrily, and smiled pleasantly on us both.
“Say, gentlemen,” he said, “have you room in here for a little one? I guess I’m about smoked out of my car by your brave soldiers. I’ve gotten a delicate stomach ...”
Stumm had risen with a brow of wrath35, and looked as if he were going to pitch the intruder off the train. Then he seemed to halt and collect himself, and the other’s face broke into a friendly grin.
“Why, it’s Colonel Stumm,” he cried. (He pronounced it like the first syllable36 in “stomach”.) “Very pleased to meet you again, Colonel. I had the honour of making your acquaintance at our Embassy. I reckon Ambassador Gerard didn’t cotton to our conversation that night.” And the new-comer plumped himself down in the corner opposite me.
I had been pretty certain I would run across Blenkiron somewhere in Germany, but I didn’t think it would be so soon. There he sat staring at me with his full, unseeing eyes, rolling out platitudes37 to Stumm, who was nearly bursting in his effort to keep civil. I looked moody38 and suspicious, which I took to be the right line.
“Things are getting a bit dead at Salonika,” said Mr Blenkiron, by way of a conversational39 opening.
Stumm pointed40 to a notice which warned officers to refrain from discussing military operations with mixed company in a railway carriage.
“Sorry,” said Blenkiron, “I can’t read that tombstone language of yours. But I reckon that that notice to trespassers, whatever it signifies, don’t apply to you and me. I take it this gentleman is in your party.”
“He is a Dutchman,” said Stumm; “South African Dutch, and he is not happy, for he doesn’t like to hear English spoken.”
“We’ll shake on that,” said Blenkiron cordially. “But who said I spoke English? It’s good American. Cheer up, friend, for it isn’t the call that makes the big wapiti, as they say out west in my country. I hate John Bull worse than a poison rattle17. The Colonel can tell you that.”
I dare say he could, but at that moment, we slowed down at a station and Stumm got up to leave. “Good day to you, Herr Blenkiron,” he cried over his shoulder. “If you consider your comfort, don’t talk English to strange travellers. They don’t distinguish between the different brands.”
I followed him in a hurry, but was recalled by Blenkiron’s voice.
“Say, friend,” he shouted, “you’ve left your grip,” and he handed me my bag from the luggage rack. But he showed no sign of recognition, and the last I saw of him was sitting sunk in a corner with his head on his chest as if he were going to sleep. He was a man who kept up his parts well.
There was a motor-car waiting—one of the grey military kind—and we started at a terrific pace over bad forest roads. Stumm had put away his papers in a portfolio42, and flung me a few sentences on the journey.
“I haven’t made up my mind about you, Brandt,” he announced. “You may be a fool or a knave43 or a good man. If you are a knave, we will shoot you.”
“And if I am a fool?” I asked.
“Send you to the Yser or the Dvina. You will be respectable cannon-fodder.”
“You cannot do that unless I consent,” I said.
“Can’t we?” he said, smiling wickedly. “Remember you are a citizen of nowhere. Technically44, you are a rebel, and the British, if you go to them, will hang you, supposing they have any sense. You are in our power, my friend, to do precisely45 what we like with you.”
He was silent for a second, and then he said, meditatively46:
“But I don’t think you are a fool. You may be a scoundrel. Some kinds of scoundrel are useful enough. Other kinds are strung up with a rope. Of that we shall know more soon.”
“And if I am a good man?”
“You will be given a chance to serve Germany, the proudest privilege a mortal man can have.” The strange man said this with a ringing sincerity47 in his voice that impressed me.
The car swung out from the trees into a park lined with saplings, and in the twilight48 I saw before me a biggish house like an overgrown Swiss chalet. There was a kind of archway, with a sham49 portcullis, and a terrace with battlements which looked as if they were made of stucco. We drew up at a Gothic front door, where a thin middle-aged50 man in a shooting-jacket was waiting.
As we moved into the lighted hall I got a good look at our host. He was very lean and brown, with the stoop in the shoulder that one gets from being constantly on horseback. He had untidy grizzled hair and a ragged51 beard, and a pair of pleasant, short-sighted brown eyes.
“Welcome, my Colonel,” he said. “Is this the friend you spoke of?”
“This is the Dutchman,” said Stumm. “His name is Brandt. Brandt, you see before you Herr Gaudian.”
I knew the name, of course; there weren’t many in my profession that didn’t. He was one of the biggest railway engineers in the world, the man who had built the Baghdad and Syrian railways, and the new lines in German East. I suppose he was about the greatest living authority on tropical construction. He knew the East and he knew Africa; clearly I had been brought down for him to put me through my paces.
A blonde maidservant took me to my room, which had a bare polished floor, a stove, and windows that, unlike most of the German kind I had sampled, seemed made to open. When I had washed I descended52 to the hall, which was hung round with trophies53 of travel, like Dervish jibbahs and Masai shields and one or two good buffalo54 heads. Presently a bell was rung. Stumm appeared with his host, and we went in to supper.
I was jolly hungry and would have made a good meal if I hadn’t constantly had to keep jogging my wits. The other two talked in German, and when a question was put to me Stumm translated. The first thing I had to do was to pretend I didn’t know German and look listlessly round the room while they were talking. The second was to miss not a word, for there lay my chance. The third was to be ready to answer questions at any moment, and to show in the answering that I had not followed the previous conversation. Likewise, I must not prove myself a fool in these answers, for I had to convince them that I was useful. It took some doing, and I felt like a witness in the box under a stiff cross-examination, or a man trying to play three games of chess at once.
“Too late,” he said. “It should have been done at the beginning. We neglected Africa. You know the reason why.”
Stumm laughed. “The von Einem! Perhaps, but her charm works well enough.”
Gaudian glanced towards me while I was busy with an orange salad. “I have much to tell you of that. But it can wait. Your friend is right in one thing. Uganda is a vital spot for the English, and a blow there will make their whole fabric56 shiver. But how can we strike? They have still the coast, and our supplies grow daily smaller.”
“We can send no reinforcements, but have we used all the local resources? That is what I cannot satisfy myself about. Zimmerman says we have, but Tressler thinks differently, and now we have this fellow coming out of the void with a story which confirms my doubt. He seems to know his job. You try him.”
Thereupon Gaudian set about questioning me, and his questions were very thorough. I knew just enough and no more to get through, but I think I came out with credit. You see I have a capacious memory, and in my time I had met scores of hunters and pioneers and listened to their yarns57, so I could pretend to knowledge of a place even when I hadn’t been there. Besides, I had once been on the point of undertaking58 a job up Tanganyika way, and I had got up that country-side pretty accurately59.
“You say that with our help you can make trouble for the British on the three borders?” Gaudian asked at length.
“But there are thousands of tribes with no affinities61.”
“They are all African. You can bear me out. All African peoples are alike in one thing—they can go mad, and the madness of one infects the others. The English know this well enough.”
“Where would you start the fire?” he asked.
“Where the fuel is dryest. Up in the North among the Mussulman peoples. But there you must help me. I know nothing about Islam, and I gather that you do.”
“Why?” he asked.
“Because of what you have done already,” I answered.
Stumm had translated all this time, and had given the sense of my words very fairly. But with my last answer he took liberties. What he gave was: “Because the Dutchman thinks that we have some big card in dealing62 with the Moslem63 world.” Then, lowering his voice and raising his eyebrows64, he said some word like “Ühnmantl”.
The other looked with a quick glance of apprehension65 at me. “We had better continue our talk in private, Herr Colonel,” he said. “If Herr Brandt will forgive us, we will leave him for a little to entertain himself.” He pushed the cigar-box towards me and the two got up and left the room.
I pulled my chair up to the stove, and would have liked to drop off to sleep. The tension of the talk at supper had made me very tired. I was accepted by these men for exactly what I professed66 to be. Stumm might suspect me of being a rascal67, but it was a Dutch rascal. But all the same I was skating on thin ice. I could not sink myself utterly68 in the part, for if I did I would get no good out of being there. I had to keep my wits going all the time, and join the appearance and manners of a backveld Boer with the mentality69 of a British intelligence-officer. Any moment the two parts might clash and I would be faced with the most alert and deadly suspicion.
There would be no mercy from Stumm. That large man was beginning to fascinate me, even though I hated him. Gaudian was clearly a good fellow, a white man and a gentleman. I could have worked with him for he belonged to my own totem. But the other was an incarnation of all that makes Germany detested70, and yet he wasn’t altogether the ordinary German, and I couldn’t help admiring him. I noticed he neither smoked nor drank. His grossness was apparently71 not in the way of fleshly appetites. Cruelty, from all I had heard of him in German South West, was his hobby; but there were other things in him, some of them good, and he had that kind of crazy patriotism72 which becomes a religion. I wondered why he had not some high command in the field, for he had had the name of a good soldier. But probably he was a big man in his own line, whatever it was, for the Under-Secretary fellow had talked small in his presence, and so great a man as Gaudian clearly respected him. There must be no lack of brains inside that funny pyramidal head.
As I sat beside the stove I was casting back to think if I had got the slightest clue to my real job. There seemed to be nothing so far. Stumm had talked of a von Einem woman who was interested in his department, perhaps the same woman as the Hilda he had mentioned the day before to the Under-Secretary. There was not much in that. She was probably some minister’s or ambassador’s wife who had a finger in high politics. If I could have caught the word Stumm had whispered to Gaudian which made him start and look askance at me! But I had only heard a gurgle of something like “Ühnmantl”, which wasn’t any German word that I knew.
The heat put me into a half-doze and I began dreamily to wonder what other people were doing. Where had Blenkiron been posting to in that train, and what was he up to at this moment? He had been hobnobbing with ambassadors and swells—I wondered if he had found out anything. What was Peter doing? I fervently73 hoped he was behaving himself, for I doubted if Peter had really tumbled to the delicacy74 of our job. Where was Sandy, too? As like as not bucketing in the hold of some Greek coaster in the Aegean. Then I thought of my battalion75 somewhere on the line between Hulluch and La Bassee, hammering at the Boche, while I was five hundred miles or so inside the Boche frontier.
It was a comic reflection, so comic that it woke me up. After trying in vain to find a way of stoking that stove, for it was a cold night, I got up and walked about the room. There were portraits of two decent old fellows, probably Gaudian’s parents. There were enlarged photographs, too, of engineering works, and a good picture of Bismarck. And close to the stove there was a case of maps mounted on rollers.
I pulled out one at random76. It was a geological map of Germany, and with some trouble I found out where I was. I was an enormous distance from my goal and moreover I was clean off the road to the East. To go there I must first go to Bavaria and then into Austria. I noticed the Danube flowing eastwards77 and remembered that that was one way to Constantinople.
Then I tried another map. This one covered a big area, all Europe from the Rhine and as far east as Persia. I guessed that it was meant to show the Baghdad railway and the through routes from Germany to Mesopotamia. There were markings on it; and, as I looked closer, I saw that there were dates scribbled78 in blue pencil, as if to denote the stages of a journey. The dates began in Europe, and continued right on into Asia Minor79 and then south to Syria.
For a moment my heart jumped, for I thought I had fallen by accident on the clue I wanted. But I never got that map examined. I heard footsteps in the corridor, and very gently I let the map roll up and turned away. When the door opened I was bending over the stove trying to get a light for my pipe.
It was Gaudian, to bid me join him and Stumm in his study.
On our way there he put a kindly80 hand on my shoulder. I think he thought I was bullied81 by Stumm and wanted to tell me that he was my friend, and he had no other language than a pat on the back.
The soldier was in his old position with his elbows on the mantelpiece and his formidable great jaw82 stuck out.
“Listen to me,” he said. “Herr Gaudian and I are inclined to make use of you. You may be a charlatan83, in which case you will be in the devil of a mess and have yourself to thank for it. If you are a rogue84 you will have little scope for roguery. We will see to that. If you are a fool, you will yourself suffer for it. But if you are a good man, you will have a fair chance, and if you succeed we will not forget it. Tomorrow I go home and you will come with me and get your orders.”
I made shift to stand at attention and salute.
Gaudian spoke in a pleasant voice, as if he wanted to atone85 for Stumm’s imperiousness. “We are men who love our Fatherland, Herr Brandt,” he said. “You are not of that Fatherland, but at least you hate its enemies. Therefore we are allies, and trust each other like allies. Our victory is ordained86 by God, and we are none of us more than His instruments.”
Stumm translated in a sentence, and his voice was quite solemn. He held up his right hand and so did Gaudian, like a man taking an oath or a parson blessing87 his congregation.
Then I realized something of the might of Germany. She produced good and bad, cads and gentlemen, but she could put a bit of the fanatic88 into them all.
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1
precarious
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| adj.不安定的，靠不住的；根据不足的 | |
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ruffled
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| adj. 有褶饰边的, 起皱的 动词ruffle的过去式和过去分词 | |
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lieutenant
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| n.陆军中尉，海军上尉；代理官员，副职官员 | |
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forerunners
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| n.先驱( forerunner的名词复数 )；开路人；先兆；前兆 | |
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destitute
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| adj.缺乏的；穷困的 | |
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sentries
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| 哨兵，步兵( sentry的名词复数 ) | |
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martial
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| adj.战争的，军事的，尚武的，威武的 | |
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inspection
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| n.检查，审查，检阅 | |
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bullying
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| v.恐吓，威逼( bully的现在分词 )；豪；跋扈 | |
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corps
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| n.(通信等兵种的)部队；(同类作的)一组 | |
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entirely
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| ad.全部地，完整地；完全地，彻底地 | |
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saluted
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| v.欢迎，致敬( salute的过去式和过去分词 )；赞扬，赞颂 | |
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salute
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| vi.行礼，致意，问候，放礼炮；vt.向…致意，迎接，赞扬；n.招呼，敬礼，礼炮 | |
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inquisitive
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| adj.求知欲强的，好奇的，好寻根究底的 | |
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pals
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| n.朋友( pal的名词复数 )；老兄；小子；（对男子的不友好的称呼）家伙 | |
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prattle
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| n.闲谈；v.（小孩般）天真无邪地说话；发出连续而无意义的声音 | |
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rattle
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| v.飞奔，碰响；激怒；n.碰撞声；拨浪鼓 | |
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abominably
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| adv. 可恶地，可恨地，恶劣地 | |
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quarries
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| n.（采）石场( quarry的名词复数 )；猎物（指鸟，兽等）；方形石；（格窗等的）方形玻璃v.从采石场采得( quarry的第三人称单数 )；从（书本等中）努力发掘（资料等）；在采石场采石 | |
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bent
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| n.爱好，癖好；adj.弯的；决心的，一心的 | |
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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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wink
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| n.眨眼，使眼色，瞬间；v.眨眼，使眼色，闪烁 | |
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jabbers
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| v.急切而含混不清地说( jabber的第三人称单数 )；急促兴奋地说话 | |
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grumbling
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| adj. 喃喃鸣不平的, 出怨言的 | |
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breach
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| n.违反，不履行；破裂；vt.冲破，攻破 | |
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discoursed
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| 演说（discourse的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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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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sergeant
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| n.警官，中士 | |
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scorpion
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| n.蝎子，心黑的人，蝎子鞭 | |
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ornament
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| v.装饰，美化；n.装饰，装饰物 | |
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brazen
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| adj.厚脸皮的，无耻的，坚硬的 | |
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blurred
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| v.（使）变模糊( blur的过去式和过去分词 )；（使）难以区分；模模糊糊；迷离 | |
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swell
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| vi.膨胀，肿胀；增长，增强 | |
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solitude
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| n. 孤独; 独居,荒僻之地,幽静的地方 | |
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wrath
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| n.愤怒，愤慨，暴怒 | |
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syllable
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| n.音节；vt.分音节 | |
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platitudes
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| n.平常的话，老生常谈，陈词滥调( platitude的名词复数 )；滥套子 | |
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moody
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| adj.心情不稳的，易怒的，喜怒无常的 | |
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conversational
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| adj.对话的，会话的 | |
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pointed
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| adj.尖的，直截了当的 | |
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scowled
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| 怒视，生气地皱眉( scowl的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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portfolio
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| n.公事包；文件夹；大臣及部长职位 | |
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knave
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| n.流氓；（纸牌中的）杰克 | |
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technically
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| adv.专门地，技术上地 | |
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precisely
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| adv.恰好，正好，精确地，细致地 | |
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meditatively
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| adv.冥想地 | |
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sincerity
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| n.真诚，诚意；真实 | |
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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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sham
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| n./adj.假冒(的)，虚伪(的) | |
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middle-aged
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| adj.中年的 | |
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ragged
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| adj.衣衫褴褛的，粗糙的，刺耳的 | |
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descended
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| a.为...后裔的，出身于...的 | |
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trophies
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| n.（为竞赛获胜者颁发的）奖品( trophy的名词复数 )；奖杯；（尤指狩猎或战争中获得的）纪念品；（用于比赛或赛跑名称）奖 | |
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buffalo
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| n.(北美)野牛；(亚洲)水牛 | |
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gist
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| n.要旨；梗概 | |
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fabric
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| n.织物，织品，布；构造，结构，组织 | |
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yarns
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| n.纱( yarn的名词复数 )；纱线；奇闻漫谈；旅行轶事 | |
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undertaking
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| n.保证，许诺，事业 | |
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accurately
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| adv.准确地，精确地 | |
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kindle
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| v.点燃，着火 | |
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affinities
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| n.密切关系( affinity的名词复数 )；亲近；（生性）喜爱；类同 | |
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dealing
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| n.经商方法，待人态度 | |
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Moslem
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| n.回教徒，穆罕默德信徒；adj.回教徒的，回教的 | |
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eyebrows
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| 眉毛( eyebrow的名词复数 ) | |
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apprehension
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| n.理解，领悟；逮捕，拘捕；忧虑 | |
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professed
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| 公开声称的，伪称的，已立誓信教的 | |
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rascal
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| n.流氓；不诚实的人 | |
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utterly
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| adv.完全地，绝对地 | |
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mentality
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| n.心理，思想，脑力 | |
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detested
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| v.憎恶，嫌恶，痛恨( detest的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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apparently
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| adv.显然地；表面上，似乎 | |
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patriotism
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| n.爱国精神，爱国心，爱国主义 | |
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fervently
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| adv.热烈地，热情地，强烈地 | |
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delicacy
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| n.精致，细微，微妙，精良；美味，佳肴 | |
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battalion
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| n.营；部队；大队(的人) | |
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random
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| adj.随机的；任意的；n.偶然的(或随便的)行动 | |
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eastwards
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| adj.向东方（的），朝东（的）；n.向东的方向 | |
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scribbled
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| v.潦草的书写( scribble的过去式和过去分词 )；乱画；草草地写；匆匆记下 | |
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minor
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| adj.较小(少)的，较次要的；n.辅修学科；vi.辅修 | |
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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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81
bullied
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| adj.被欺负了v.恐吓，威逼( bully的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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jaw
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| n.颚，颌，说教，流言蜚语；v.喋喋不休，教训 | |
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83
charlatan
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| n.骗子；江湖医生；假内行 | |
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84
rogue
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| n.流氓；v.游手好闲 | |
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85
atone
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| v.赎罪，补偿 | |
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86
ordained
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| v.任命（某人）为牧师( ordain的过去式和过去分词 )；授予（某人）圣职；（上帝、法律等）命令；判定 | |
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87
blessing
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| n.祈神赐福；祷告；祝福，祝愿 | |
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fanatic
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| n.狂热者，入迷者；adj.狂热入迷的 | |
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