She had been perfectly11 prepared to be surprised at Ricks, for Mrs. Gereth was a wonder-working wizard, with a command, when all was said, of good material; but the impression in wait for her on the threshold made her catch her breath and falter12. Dusk had fallen when she arrived, and in the plain square hall, one of the few good features, the glow of a Venetian lamp just showed, on either wall, the richness of an admirable tapestry13. This instant perception that the place had been dressed at the expense of Poynton was a shock: it was as if she had abruptly14 seen herself in the light of an accomplice15. The next moment, folded in Mrs. Gereth's arms, her eyes were diverted; but she had already had, in a flash, the vision of the great gaps in the other house. The two tapestries16, not the largest, but those most splendidly toned by time, had been on the whole its most uplifted pride. When she could really see again she was on a sofa in the drawing-room, staring with intensity17 at an object soon distinct as the great Italian cabinet that, at Poynton, had been in the red saloon. Without looking, she was sure the room was occupied with other objects like it, stuffed with as many as it could hold of the trophies18 of her friend's struggle. By this time the very fingers of her glove, resting on the seat of the sofa, had thrilled at the touch of an old velvet19 brocade, a wondrous20 texture21 that she could recognize, would have recognized among a thousand, without dropping her eyes on it. They stuck to the cabinet with a kind of dissimulated22 dread23, while she painfully asked herself whether she should notice it, notice everything, or just pretend not to be affected24. How could she pretend not to be affected, with the very pendants of the lustres tinkling25 at her and with Mrs. Gereth, beside her and staring at her even as she herself stared at the cabinet, hunching26 up a back like Atlas27 under his globe? She was appalled28 at this image of what Mrs. Gereth had on her shoulders. That lady was waiting and watching her, bracing29 herself, and preparing the same face of confession30 and defiance31 she had shown the day, at Poynton, she had been surprised in the corridor. It was farcical not to speak; and yet to exclaim, to participate, would give one a bad sense of being mixed up with a theft. This ugly word sounded, for herself, in Fleda's silence, and the very violence of it jarred her into a scared glance, as of a creature detected, to right and left. But what again the full picture most showed her was the far-away empty sockets32, a scandal of nakedness in high, bare walls. She at last uttered something formal and incoherent—she didn't know what: it had no relation to either house. Then she felt Mrs. Gereth's hand once more on her arm. "I've arranged a charming room for you—it's really lovely. You'll be very happy there." This was spoken with extraordinary sweetness and with a smile that meant, "Oh, I know what you're thinking; but what does it matter when you're so loyally on my side?" It had come indeed to a question of "sides," Fleda thought, for the whole place was in battle array. In the soft lamplight, with one fine feature after another looming34 up into sombre richness, it defied her not to pronounce it a triumph of taste. Her passion for beauty leaped back into life; and was not what now most appealed to it a certain gorgeous audacity35? Mrs. Gereth's high hand was, as mere36 great effect, the climax37 of the impression.
"It's too wonderful, what you've done with the house!"—the visitor met her friend's eyes. They lighted up with joy—that friend herself so pleased with what she had done. This was not at all, in its accidental air of enthusiasm, what Fleda wanted to have said: it offered her as stupidly announcing from the first minute on whose side she was. Such was clearly the way Mrs. Gereth took it: she threw herself upon the delightful38 girl and tenderly embraced her again; so that Fleda soon went on, with a studied difference and a cooler inspection39: "Why, you brought away absolutely everything!"
"Oh no, not everything; I saw how little I could get into this scrap40 of a house. I only brought away what I required."
Fleda had got up; she took a turn round the room. "You 'required' the very best pieces—the morceaux de musée, the individual gems41!"
"I certainly didn't want the rubbish, if that's what you mean." Mrs. Gereth, on the sofa, followed the direction of her companion's eyes; with the light of her satisfaction still in her face, she slowly rubbed her large, handsome hands. Wherever she was, she was herself the great piece in the gallery. It was the first Fleda had heard of there being "rubbish" at Poynton, but she didn't for the moment take up this insincerity; she only, from where she stood in the room, called out, one after the other, as if she had had a list in her hand, the pieces that in the great house had been scattered42 and that now, if they had a fault, were too much like a minuet danced on a hearth-rug. She knew them each, in every chink and charm—knew them by the personal name their distinctive43 sign or story had given them; and a second time she felt how, against her intention, this uttered knowledge struck her hostess as so much free approval. Mrs. Gereth was never indifferent to approval, and there was nothing she could so love you for as for doing justice to her deep morality. There was a particular gleam in her eyes when Fleda exclaimed at last, dazzled by the display: "And even the Maltese cross!" That description, though technically44 incorrect, had always been applied45, at Poynton, to a small but marvelous crucifix of ivory, a masterpiece of delicacy46, of expression, and of the great Spanish period, the existence and precarious47 accessibility of which she had heard of at Malta, years before, by an odd and romantic chance—a clue followed through mazes48 of secrecy49 till the treasure was at last unearthed50.
"'Even' the Maltese cross?" Mrs. Gereth rose as she sharply echoed the words. "My dear child, you don't suppose I'd have sacrificed that! For what in the world would you have taken me?"
"A bibelot the more or the less," Fleda said, "could have made little difference in this grand general view of you. I take you simply for the greatest of all conjurers. You've operated with a quickness—and with a quietness!" Her voice trembled a little as she spoke33, for the plain meaning of her words was that what her friend had achieved belonged to the class of operation essentially51 involving the protection of darkness. Fleda felt she really could say nothing at all if she couldn't say that she knew what the danger had been. She completed her thought by a resolute52 and perfectly candid53 question: "How in the world did you get off with them?"
Mrs. Gereth confessed to the fact of danger with a cynicism that surprised the girl. "By calculating, by choosing my time. I was quiet, and I was quick. I manœuvred; then at the last rushed!" Fleda drew a long breath: she saw in the poor woman something much better than sophistical ease, a crude elation10 that was a comparatively simple state to deal with. Her elation, it was true, was not so much from what she had done as from the way she had done it—by as brilliant a stroke as any commemorated54 in the annals of crime. "I succeeded because I had thought it all out and left nothing to chance: the whole process was organized in advance, so that the mere carrying it into effect took but a few hours. It was largely a matter of money: oh, I was horribly extravagant—I had to turn on so many people. But they were all to be had—a little army of workers, the packers, the porters, the helpers of every sort, the men with the mighty55 vans. It was a question of arranging in Tottenham Court Road and of paying the price. I haven't paid it yet; there'll be a horrid56 bill; but at least the thing's done! Expedition pure and simple was the essence of the bargain. 'I can give you two days,' I said; 'I can't give you another second.' They undertook the job, and the two days saw them through. The people came down on a Tuesday morning; they were off on the Thursday. I admit that some of them worked all Wednesday night. I had thought it all out; I stood over them; I showed them how. Yes, I coaxed57 them, I made love to them. Oh, I was inspired—they found me wonderful. I neither ate nor slept, but I was as calm as I am now. I didn't know what was in me; it was worth finding out. I'm very remarkable58, my dear: I lifted tons with my own arms. I'm tired, very, very tired; but there's neither a scratch nor a nick, there isn't a teacup missing." Magnificent both in her exhaustion59 and in her triumph, Mrs. Gereth sank on the sofa again, the sweep of her eyes a rich synthesis and the restless friction60 of her hands a clear betrayal. "Upon my word," she laughed, "they really look better here!"
"What alarm should there have been? Owen left me almost defiantly62 alone: I had taken a time that I had reason to believe was safe from a descent." Fleda had another wonder, which she hesitated to express: it would scarcely do to ask Mrs. Gereth if she hadn't stood in fear of her servants. She knew, moreover, some of the secrets of her humorous household rule, all made up of shocks to shyness and provocations63 to curiosity—a diplomacy64 so artful that several of the maids quite yearned65 to accompany her to Ricks. Mrs. Gereth, reading sharply the whole of her visitor's thought, caught it up with fine frankness. "You mean that I was watched—that he had his myrmidons, pledged to wire him if they should see what I was 'up to'? Precisely66. I know the three persons you have in mind: I had them in mind myself. Well, I took a line with them—I settled them."
Fleda had had no one in particular in mind; she had never believed in the myrmidons; but the tone in which Mrs. Gereth spoke added to her suspense67. "What did you do to them?"
"I took hold of them hard—I put them in the forefront. I made them work."
"To move the furniture?"
"To help, and to help so as to please me. That was the way to take them; it was what they had least expected. I marched up to them and looked each straight in the eye, giving him the chance to choose if he'd gratify me or gratify my son. He gratified me. They were too stupid!"
Mrs. Gereth massed herself there more and more as an immoral68 woman, but Fleda had to recognize that she too would have been stupid and she too would have gratified her. "And when did all this take place?"
"Only last week; it seems a hundred years. We've worked here as fast as we worked there, but I'm not settled yet: you'll see in the rest of the house. However, the worst is over."
"Do you really think so?" Fleda presently inquired. "I mean, does he, after the fact, as it were, accept it?"
"Owen—what I've done? I haven't the least idea," said Mrs. Gereth.
"Does Mona?"
"You mean that she'll be the soul of the row?"
"I hardly see Mona as the 'soul' of anything," the girl replied. "But have they made no sound? Have you heard nothing at all?"
"Not a whisper, not a step, in all the eight days. Perhaps they don't know. Perhaps they're crouching69 for a leap."
"But wouldn't they have gone down as soon as you left?"
"They may not have known of my leaving." Fleda wondered afresh; it struck her as scarcely supposable that some sign shouldn't have flashed from Poynton to London. If the storm was taking this term of silence to gather, even in Mona's breast, it would probably discharge itself in some startling form. The great hush70 of every one concerned was strange; but when she pressed Mrs. Gereth for some explanation of it, that lady only replied, with her brave irony71: "Oh, I took their breath away!" She had no illusions, however; she was still prepared to fight. What indeed was her spoliation of Poynton but the first engagement of a campaign?
All this was exciting, but Fleda's spirit dropped, at bedtime, in the chamber72 embellished73 for her pleasure, where she found several of the objects that in her earlier room she had most admired. These had been reinforced by other pieces from other rooms, so that the quiet air of it was a harmony without a break, the finished picture of a maiden74's bower75. It was the sweetest Louis Seize, all assorted76 and combined—old chastened, figured, faded France. Fleda was impressed anew with her friend's genius for composition. She could say to herself that no girl in England, that night, went to rest with so picked a guard; but there was no joy for her in her privilege, no sleep even for the tired hours that made the place, in the embers of the fire and the winter dawn, look gray, somehow, and loveless. She couldn't care for such things when they came to her in such ways; there was a wrong about them all that turned them to ugliness. In the watches of the night she saw Poynton dishonored; she had cared for it as a happy whole, she reasoned, and the parts of it now around her seemed to suffer like chopped limbs. Before going to bed she had walked about with Mrs. Gereth and seen at whose expense the whole house had been furnished. At poor Owen's, from top to bottom—there wasn't a chair he hadn't sat upon. The maiden aunt had been exterminated—no trace of her to tell her tale. Fleda tried to think of some of the things at Poynton still unappropriated, but her memory was a blank about them, and in trying to focus the old combinations she saw again nothing but gaps and scars, a vacancy77 that gathered at moments into something worse. This concrete image was her greatest trouble, for it was Owen Gereth's face, his sad, strange eyes, fixed upon her now as they had never been. They stared at her out of the darkness, and their expression was more than she could bear: it seemed to say that he was in pain and that it was somehow her fault. He had looked to her to help him, and this was what her help had been. He had done her the honor to ask her to exert herself in his interest, confiding78 to her a task of difficulty, but of the highest delicacy. Hadn't that been exactly the sort of service she longed to render him? Well, her way of rendering79 it had been simply to betray him and hand him over to his enemy. Shame, pity, resentment80 oppressed her in turn; in the last of these feelings the others were quickly submerged. Mrs. Gereth had imprisoned81 her in that torment82 of taste; but it was clear to her for an hour at least that she might hate Mrs. Gereth.
Something else, however, when morning came, was even more intensely definite: the most odious83 thing in the world for her would be ever again to meet Owen. She took on the spot a resolve to neglect no precaution that could lead to her going through life without that accident. After this, while she dressed, she took still another. Her position had become, in a few hours, intolerably false; in as few more hours as possible she would therefore put an end to it. The way to put an end to it would be to inform Mrs. Gereth that, to her great regret, she couldn't be with her now, couldn't cleave84 to her to the point that everything about her so plainly urged. She dressed with a sort of violence, a symbol of the manner in which this purpose was precipitated86. The more they parted company the less likely she was to come across Owen; for Owen would be drawn87 closer to his mother now by the very necessity of bringing her down. Fleda, in the inconsequence of distress88, wished to have nothing to do with her fall; she had had too much to do with everything. She was well aware of the importance, before breakfast and in view of any light they might shed on the question of motive89, of not suffering her invidious expression of a difference to be accompanied by the traces of tears; but it none the less came to pass, downstairs, that after she had subtly put her back to the window, to make a mystery of the state of her eyes, she stupidly let a rich sob90 escape her before she could properly meet the consequences of being asked if she wasn't delighted with her room. This accident struck her on the spot as so grave that she felt the only refuge to be instant hypocrisy91, some graceful92 impulse that would charge her emotion to the quickened sense of her friend's generosity—a demonstration93 entailing94 a flutter round the table and a renewed embrace, and not so successfully improvised95 but that Fleda fancied Mrs. Gereth to have been only half reassured96. She had been startled, at any rate, and she might remain suspicious: this reflection interposed by the time, after breakfast, the girl had recovered sufficiently97 to say what was in her heart. She accordingly didn't say it that morning at all: she had absurdly veered98 about; she had encountered the shock of the fear that Mrs. Gereth, with sharpened eyes, might wonder why the deuce (she often wondered in that phrase) she had grown so warm about Owen's rights. She would doubtless, at a pinch, be able to defend them on abstract grounds, but that would involve a discussion, and the idea of a discussion made her nervous for her secret. Until in some way Poynton should return the blow and give her a cue, she must keep nervousness down; and she called herself a fool for having forgotten, however briefly99, that her one safety was in silence.
Directly after luncheon100 Mrs. Gereth took her into the garden for a glimpse of the revolution—or at least, said the mistress of Ricks, of the great row—that had been decreed there; but the ladies had scarcely placed themselves for this view before the younger one found herself embracing a prospect101 that opened in quite another quarter. Her attention was called to it, oddly, by the streamers of the parlor-maid's cap, which, flying straight behind the neat young woman who unexpectedly burst from the house and showed a long red face as she ambled102 over the grass, seemed to articulate in their flutter the name that Fleda lived at present only to catch. "Poynton—Poynton!" said the morsels103 of muslin; so that the parlor-maid became on the instant an actress in the drama, and Fleda, assuming pusillanimously104 that she herself was only a spectator, looked across the footlights at the exponent105 of the principal part. The manner in which this artist returned her look showed that she was equally preoccupied106. Both were haunted alike by possibilities, but the apprehension107 of neither, before the announcement was made, took the form of the arrival at Ricks, in the flesh, of Mrs. Gereth's victim. When the messenger informed them that Mr. Gereth was in the drawing-room, the blank "Oh!" emitted by Fleda was quite as precipitate85 as the sound on her hostess's lips, besides being, as she felt, much less pertinent108. "I thought it would be somebody," that lady afterwards said; "but I expected on the whole a solicitor's clerk." Fleda didn't mention that she herself had expected on the whole a pair of constables109. She was surprised by Mrs. Gereth's question to the parlor-maid.
"For whom did he ask?"
"Why, for you, of course, dearest friend!" Fleda interjected, falling instinctively110 into the address that embodied111 the intensest pressure. She wanted to put Mrs. Gereth between her and her danger.
"He asked for Miss Vetch, mum," the girl replied, with a face that brought startlingly to Fleda's ear the muffled112 chorus of the kitchen.
"But what to do?"
"What you always do—to see what he wants." Mrs. Gereth dismissed the maid. "Tell him Miss Vetch will come." Fleda saw that nothing was in the mother's imagination at this moment but the desire not to meet her son. She had completely broken with him, and there was little in what had just happened to repair the rupture114. It would now take more to do so than his presenting himself uninvited at her door. "He's right in asking for you—he's aware that you're still our communicator; nothing has occurred to alter that. To what he wishes to transmit through you I'm ready, as I've been ready before, to listen. As far as I'm concerned, if I couldn't meet him a month ago, how am I to meet him to-day? If he has come to say, 'My dear mother, you're here, in the hovel into which I've flung you, with consolations115 that give me pleasure,' I'll listen to him; but on no other footing. That's what you're to ascertain116, please. You'll oblige me as you've obliged me before. There!" Mrs. Gereth turned her back and, with a fine imitation of superiority, began to redress117 the miseries118 immediately before her. Fleda meanwhile hesitated, lingered for some minutes where she had been left, feeling secretly that her fate still had her in hand. It had put her face to face with Owen Gereth, and it evidently meant to keep her so. She was reminded afresh of two things: one of which was that, though she judged her friend's rigor119, she had never really had the story of the scene enacted120 in the great awestricken house between the mother and the son weeks before—the day the former took to her bed in her over-throw; the other was, that at Ricks as at Poynton, it was before all things her place to accept thankfully a usefulness not, she must remember, universally acknowledged. What determined121 her at the last, while Mrs. Gereth disappeared in the shrubbery, was that, though she was at a distance from the house and the drawing-room was turned the other way, she could absolutely see the young man alone there with the sources of his pain. She saw his simple stare at his tapestries, heard his heavy tread on his carpets and the hard breath of his sense of unfairness. At this she went to him fast.
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1
promptly
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| adv.及时地，敏捷地 | |
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fixed
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| adj.固定的，不变的，准备好的；(计算机)固定的 | |
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alterations
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| n.改动( alteration的名词复数 )；更改；变化；改变 | |
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interval
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| n.间隔，间距；幕间休息，中场休息 | |
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supreme
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| adj.极度的，最重要的；至高的，最高的 | |
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amputation
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| n.截肢 | |
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stump
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| n.残株，烟蒂，讲演台；v.砍断，蹒跚而走 | |
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lavished
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| v.过分给予，滥施( lavish的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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champagne
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| n.香槟酒；微黄色 | |
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elation
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| n.兴高采烈，洋洋得意 | |
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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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falter
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| vi.(嗓音)颤抖，结巴地说；犹豫；蹒跚 | |
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tapestry
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| n.挂毯，丰富多采的画面 | |
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abruptly
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| adv.突然地，出其不意地 | |
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accomplice
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| n.从犯，帮凶，同谋 | |
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tapestries
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| n.挂毯( tapestry的名词复数 )；绣帷，织锦v.用挂毯（或绣帷）装饰( tapestry的第三人称单数 ) | |
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intensity
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| n.强烈，剧烈；强度；烈度 | |
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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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velvet
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| n.丝绒，天鹅绒；adj.丝绒制的，柔软的 | |
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wondrous
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| adj.令人惊奇的，奇妙的；adv.惊人地；异乎寻常地；令人惊叹地 | |
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texture
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| n.(织物)质地；(材料)构造；结构；肌理 | |
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dissimulated
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| v.掩饰（感情），假装（镇静）( dissimulate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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affected
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| adj.不自然的，假装的 | |
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tinkling
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| n.丁当作响声 | |
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hunching
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| 隆起（hunch的现在分词形式） | |
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atlas
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| n.地图册，图表集 | |
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appalled
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| v.使惊骇，使充满恐惧( appall的过去式和过去分词)adj.惊骇的；丧胆的 | |
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bracing
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| adj.令人振奋的 | |
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confession
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| n.自白，供认，承认 | |
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defiance
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| n.挑战，挑衅，蔑视，违抗 | |
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sockets
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| n.套接字，使应用程序能够读写与收发通讯协定(protocol)与资料的程序( Socket的名词复数 )；孔( socket的名词复数 )；（电器上的）插口；托座；凹穴 | |
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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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looming
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| n.上现蜃景（光通过低层大气发生异常折射形成的一种海市蜃楼）v.隐约出现，阴森地逼近( loom的现在分词 )；隐约出现，阴森地逼近 | |
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audacity
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| n.大胆，卤莽，无礼 | |
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mere
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| adj.纯粹的；仅仅，只不过 | |
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climax
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| n.顶点；高潮；v.(使)达到顶点 | |
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delightful
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| adj.令人高兴的，使人快乐的 | |
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inspection
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| n.检查，审查，检阅 | |
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scrap
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| n.碎片；废料；v.废弃，报废 | |
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gems
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| growth； economy； management； and customer satisfaction 增长 | |
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42
scattered
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| adj.分散的，稀疏的；散步的；疏疏落落的 | |
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distinctive
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| adj.特别的，有特色的，与众不同的 | |
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technically
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| adv.专门地，技术上地 | |
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45
applied
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| adj.应用的；v.应用，适用 | |
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46
delicacy
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| n.精致，细微，微妙，精良；美味，佳肴 | |
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47
precarious
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| adj.不安定的，靠不住的；根据不足的 | |
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48
mazes
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| 迷宫( maze的名词复数 )； 纷繁复杂的规则； 复杂难懂的细节； 迷宫图 | |
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49
secrecy
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| n.秘密，保密，隐蔽 | |
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50
unearthed
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| 出土的（考古） | |
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51
essentially
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| adv.本质上，实质上，基本上 | |
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52
resolute
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| adj.坚决的，果敢的 | |
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53
candid
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| adj.公正的，正直的；坦率的 | |
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54
commemorated
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| v.纪念，庆祝( commemorate的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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55
mighty
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| adj.强有力的；巨大的 | |
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56
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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57
coaxed
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| v.哄，用好话劝说( coax的过去式和过去分词 )；巧言骗取；哄劝，劝诱 | |
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58
remarkable
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| adj.显著的，异常的，非凡的，值得注意的 | |
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59
exhaustion
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| n.耗尽枯竭，疲惫，筋疲力尽，竭尽，详尽无遗的论述 | |
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60
friction
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| n.摩擦，摩擦力 | |
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61
awe
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| n.敬畏，惊惧；vt.使敬畏，使惊惧 | |
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62
defiantly
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| adv.挑战地，大胆对抗地 | |
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63
provocations
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| n.挑衅( provocation的名词复数 )；激怒；刺激；愤怒的原因 | |
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64
diplomacy
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| n.外交；外交手腕，交际手腕 | |
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65
yearned
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| 渴望，切盼，向往( yearn的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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66
precisely
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| adv.恰好，正好，精确地，细致地 | |
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67
suspense
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| n.（对可能发生的事）紧张感，担心，挂虑 | |
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68
immoral
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| adj.不道德的，淫荡的，荒淫的，有伤风化的 | |
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69
crouching
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| v.屈膝，蹲伏( crouch的现在分词 ) | |
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70
hush
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| int.嘘，别出声；n.沉默，静寂；v.使安静 | |
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71
irony
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| n.反语，冷嘲；具有讽刺意味的事，嘲弄 | |
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72
chamber
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| n.房间，寝室；会议厅；议院；会所 | |
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73
embellished
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| v.美化( embellish的过去式和过去分词 )；装饰；修饰；润色 | |
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74
maiden
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| n.少女，处女；adj.未婚的，纯洁的，无经验的 | |
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75
bower
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| n.凉亭，树荫下凉快之处；闺房；v.荫蔽 | |
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76
assorted
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| adj.各种各样的，各色俱备的 | |
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77
vacancy
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| n.（旅馆的）空位，空房，（职务的）空缺 | |
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78
confiding
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| adj.相信人的，易于相信的v.吐露（秘密，心事等）( confide的现在分词 )；（向某人）吐露（隐私、秘密等） | |
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79
rendering
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| n.表现，描写 | |
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80
resentment
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| n.怨愤，忿恨 | |
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81
imprisoned
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| 下狱，监禁( imprison的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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82
torment
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| n.折磨；令人痛苦的东西(人)；vt.折磨；纠缠 | |
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83
odious
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| adj.可憎的，讨厌的 | |
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84
cleave
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| v．(clave；cleaved)粘着，粘住；坚持；依恋 | |
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85
precipitate
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| adj.突如其来的；vt.使突然发生；n.沉淀物 | |
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86
precipitated
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| v.（突如其来地）使发生( precipitate的过去式和过去分词 )；促成；猛然摔下；使沉淀 | |
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87
drawn
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| v.拖，拉，拔出；adj.憔悴的，紧张的 | |
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88
distress
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| n.苦恼，痛苦，不舒适；不幸；vt.使悲痛 | |
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89
motive
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| n.动机，目的；adv.发动的，运动的 | |
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90
sob
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| n.空间轨道的轰炸机；呜咽，哭泣 | |
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91
hypocrisy
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| n.伪善，虚伪 | |
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92
graceful
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| adj.优美的，优雅的；得体的 | |
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93
demonstration
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| n.表明，示范，论证，示威 | |
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94
entailing
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| 使…成为必要( entail的现在分词 )； 需要； 限定继承； 使必需 | |
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95
improvised
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| a.即席而作的,即兴的 | |
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96
reassured
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| adj.使消除疑虑的；使放心的v.再保证，恢复信心( reassure的过去式和过去分词) | |
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97
sufficiently
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| adv.足够地，充分地 | |
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98
veered
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| v.（尤指交通工具）改变方向或路线( veer的过去式和过去分词 )；（指谈话内容、人的行为或观点）突然改变；（指风） （在北半球按顺时针方向、在南半球按逆时针方向）逐渐转向；风向顺时针转 | |
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99
briefly
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| adv.简单地，简短地 | |
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100
luncheon
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| n.午宴，午餐，便宴 | |
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101
prospect
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| n.前景，前途；景色，视野 | |
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102
ambled
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| v.（马）缓行( amble的过去式和过去分词 )；从容地走，漫步 | |
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103
morsels
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| n.一口( morsel的名词复数 )；（尤指食物）小块，碎屑 | |
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104
pusillanimously
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| adv.胆怯地，优柔寡断地 | |
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105
exponent
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| n.倡导者，拥护者；代表人物；指数，幂 | |
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106
preoccupied
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| adj.全神贯注的，入神的；被抢先占有的；心事重重的v.占据（某人）思想，使对…全神贯注，使专心于( preoccupy的过去式) | |
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107
apprehension
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| n.理解，领悟；逮捕，拘捕；忧虑 | |
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108
pertinent
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| adj.恰当的；贴切的；中肯的；有关的；相干的 | |
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109
constables
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| n.警察( constable的名词复数 ) | |
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110
instinctively
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| adv.本能地 | |
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111
embodied
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| v.表现( embody的过去式和过去分词 )；象征；包括；包含 | |
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112
muffled
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| adj.（声音）被隔的；听不太清的；（衣服）裹严的；蒙住的v.压抑，捂住( muffle的过去式和过去分词 )；用厚厚的衣帽包着（自己） | |
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113
austerely
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| adv.严格地，朴质地 | |
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114
rupture
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| n.破裂；(关系的)决裂；v.(使)破裂 | |
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115
consolations
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| n.安慰，慰问( consolation的名词复数 )；起安慰作用的人（或事物） | |
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116
ascertain
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| vt.发现，确定，查明，弄清 | |
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117
redress
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| n.赔偿，救济，矫正；v.纠正，匡正，革除 | |
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118
miseries
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| n.痛苦( misery的名词复数 )；痛苦的事；穷困；常发牢骚的人 | |
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119
rigor
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| n.严酷，严格，严厉 | |
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120
enacted
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| 制定（法律），通过（法案）( enact的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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121
determined
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| adj.坚定的；有决心的 | |
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