OUR morning's exertions1 had been too much for my weak health, and I was tired out in the afternoon. After Holmes' departure for the concert, I lay down upon the sofa and endeavoured to get a couple of hours' sleep. It was a useless attempt. My mind had been too much excited by all that had occurred, and the strangest fancies and surmises2 crowded into it. Every time that I closed my eyes I saw before me the distorted baboon-like countenance3 of the murdered man. So sinister4 was the impression which that face had produced upon me that I found it difficult to feel anything but gratitude5 for him who had removed its owner from the world. If ever human features bespoke6 vice8 of the most malignant9 type, they were certainly those of Enoch J. Drebber, of Cleveland. Still I recognized that justice must be done, and that the depravity of the victim was no condonement in the eyes of the law.
The more I thought of it the more extraordinary did my companion's hypothesis, that the man had been poisoned, appear. I remembered how he had sniffed10 his lips, and had no doubt that he had detected something which had given rise to the idea. Then, again, if not poison, what had caused the man's death, since there was neither wound nor marks of strangulation? But, on the other hand, whose blood was that which lay so thickly upon the floor? There were no signs of a struggle, nor had the victim any weapon with which he might have wounded an antagonist11. As long as all these questions were unsolved, I felt that sleep would be no easy matter, either for Holmes or myself. His quiet self-confident manner convinced me that he had already formed a theory which explained all the facts, though what it was I could not for an instant conjecture12.
He was very late in returning -- so late, that I knew that the concert could not have detained him all the time. Dinner was on the table before he appeared.
"It was magnificent," he said, as he took his seat. "Do you remember what Darwin says about music? He claims that the power of producing and appreciating it existed among the human race long before the power of speech was arrived at. Perhaps that is why we are so subtly influenced by it. There are vague memories in our souls of those misty13 centuries when the world was in its childhood."
"That's rather a broad idea," I remarked.
"One's ideas must be as broad as Nature if they are to interpret Nature," he answered. "What's the matter? You're not looking quite yourself. This Brixton Road affair has upset you."
"To tell the truth, it has," I said. "I ought to be more case-hardened after my Afghan experiences. I saw my own comrades hacked15 to pieces at Maiwand without losing my nerve."
"I can understand. There is a mystery about this which stimulates16 the imagination; where there is no imagination there is no horror. Have you seen the evening paper?"
"No."
"It gives a fairly good account of the affair. It does not mention the fact that when the man was raised up, a woman's wedding ring fell upon the floor. It is just as well it does not."
"Why?"
"Look at this advertisement," he answered. "I had one sent to every paper this morning immediately after the affair."
He threw the paper across to me and I glanced at the place indicated. It was the first announcement in the "Found" column. "In Brixton Road, this morning," it ran, "a plain gold wedding ring, found in the roadway between the `White Hart' Tavern17 and Holland Grove18. Apply Dr. Watson, 221B, Baker19 Street, between eight and nine this evening."
"Excuse my using your name," he said. "If I used my own some of these dunderheads would recognize it, and want to meddle20 in the affair."
"That is all right," I answered. "But supposing anyone applies, I have no ring."
"Oh yes, you have," said he, handing me one. "This will do very well. It is almost a facsimile."
"And who do you expect will answer this advertisement."
"Why, the man in the brown coat -- our florid friend with the square toes. If he does not come himself he will send an accomplice21."
"Would he not consider it as too dangerous?"
"Not at all. If my view of the case is correct, and I have every reason to believe that it is, this man would rather risk anything than lose the ring. According to my notion he dropped it while stooping over Drebber's body, and did not miss it at the time. After leaving the house he discovered his loss and hurried back, but found the police already in possession, owing to his own folly22 in leaving the candle burning. He had to pretend to be drunk in order to allay23 the suspicions which might have been aroused by his appearance at the gate. Now put yourself in that man's place. On thinking the matter over, it must have occurred to him that it was possible that he had lost the ring in the road after leaving the house. What would he do, then? He would eagerly look out for the evening papers in the hope of seeing it among the articles found. His eye, of course, would light upon this. He would be overjoyed. Why should he fear a trap? There would be no reason in his eyes why the finding of the ring should be connected with the murder. He would come. He will come. You shall see him within an hour?"
"And then?" I asked.
"Oh, you can leave me to deal with him then. Have you any arms?"
"I have my old service revolver and a few cartridges24."
"You had better clean it and load it. He will be a desperate man, and though I shall take him unawares, it is as well to be ready for anything."
I went to my bedroom and followed his advice. When I returned with the pistol the table had been cleared, and Holmes was engaged in his favourite occupation of scraping upon his violin.
"The plot thickens," he said, as I entered; "I have just had an answer to my American telegram. My view of the case is the correct one."
"And that is?" I asked eagerly.
"My fiddle25 would be the better for new strings," he remarked. "Put your pistol in your pocket. When the fellow comes speak to him in an ordinary way. Leave the rest to me. Don't frighten him by looking at him too hard."
"It is eight o'clock now," I said, glancing at my watch.
"Yes. He will probably be here in a few minutes. Open the door slightly. That will do. Now put the key on the inside. Thank you! This is a queer old book I picked up at a stall yesterday -- `De Jure inter14 Gentes' -- published in Latin at Liege in the Lowlands, in 1642. Charles' head was still firm on his shoulders when this little brown-backed volume was struck off."
"Who is the printer?"
"Philippe de Croy, whoever he may have been. On the fly-leaf, in very faded ink, is written `Ex libris Guliolmi Whyte.' I wonder who William Whyte was. Some pragmatical seventeenth century lawyer, I suppose. His writing has a legal twist about it. Here comes our man, I think."
As he spoke7 there was a sharp ring at the bell. Sherlock Holmes rose softly and moved his chair in the direction of the door. We heard the servant pass along the hall, and the sharp click of the latch27 as she opened it.
"Does Dr. Watson live here?" asked a clear but rather harsh voice. We could not hear the servant's reply, but the door closed, and some one began to ascend28 the stairs. The footfall was an uncertain and shuffling29 one. A look of surprise passed over the face of my companion as he listened to it. It came slowly along the passage, and there was a feeble tap at the door.
"Come in," I cried.
At my summons, instead of the man of violence whom we expected, a very old and wrinkled woman hobbled into the apartment. She appeared to be dazzled by the sudden blaze of light, and after dropping a curtsey, she stood blinking at us with her bleared eyes and fumbling30 in her pocket with nervous, shaky fingers. I glanced at my companion, and his face had assumed such a disconsolate31 expression that it was all I could do to keep my countenance.
The old crone drew out an evening paper, and pointed32 at our advertisement. "It's this as has brought me, good gentlemen," she said, dropping another curtsey; "a gold wedding ring in the Brixton Road. It belongs to my girl Sally, as was married only this time twelvemonth, which her husband is steward33 aboard a Union boat, and what he'd say if he come 'ome and found her without her ring is more than I can think, he being short enough at the best o' times, but more especially when he has the drink. If it please you, she went to the circus last night along with ----"
"Is that her ring?" I asked.
"The Lord be thanked!" cried the old woman; "Sally will be a glad woman this night. That's the ring."
"And what may your address be?" I inquired, taking up a pencil.
"13, Duncan Street, Houndsditch. A weary way from here."
"The Brixton Road does not lie between any circus and Houndsditch," said Sherlock Holmes sharply.
The old woman faced round and looked keenly at him from her little red-rimmed eyes. "The gentleman asked me for _my_ address," she said. "Sally lives in lodgings34 at 3, Mayfield Place, Peckham."
"And your name is ----?"
"My name is Sawyer -- her's is Dennis, which Tom Dennis married her -- and a smart, clean lad, too, as long as he's at sea, and no steward in the company more thought of; but when on shore, what with the women and what with liquor shops ----"
"Here is your ring, Mrs. Sawyer," I interrupted, in obedience35 to a sign from my companion; "it clearly belongs to your daughter, and I am glad to be able to restore it to the rightful owner."
With many mumbled36 blessings37 and protestations of gratitude the old crone packed it away in her pocket, and shuffled38 off down the stairs. Sherlock Holmes sprang to his feet the moment that she was gone and rushed into his room. He returned in a few seconds enveloped39 in an ulster and a cravat40. "I'll follow her," he said, hurriedly; "she must be an accomplice, and will lead me to him. Wait up for me." The hall door had hardly slammed behind our visitor before Holmes had descended41 the stair. Looking through the window I could see her walking feebly along the other side, while her pursuer dogged her some little distance behind. "Either his whole theory is incorrect," I thought to myself, "or else he will be led now to the heart of the mystery." There was no need for him to ask me to wait up for him, for I felt that sleep was impossible until I heard the result of his adventure.
It was close upon nine when he set out. I had no idea how long he might be, but I sat stolidly42 puffing43 at my pipe and skipping over the pages of Henri Murger's "Vie de Boheme." Ten o'clock passed, and I heard the footsteps of the maid as they pattered off to bed. Eleven, and the more stately tread of the landlady44 passed my door, bound for the same destination. It was close upon twelve before I heard the sharp sound of his latch-key. The instant he entered I saw by his face that he had not been successful. Amusement and chagrin45 seemed to be struggling for the mastery, until the former suddenly carried the day, and he burst into a hearty46 laugh.
"I wouldn't have the Scotland Yarders know it for the world," he cried, dropping into his chair; "I have chaffed them so much that they would never have let me hear the end of it. I can afford to laugh, because I know that I will be even with them in the long run."
"What is it then?" I asked.
"Oh, I don't mind telling a story against myself. That creature had gone a little way when she began to limp and show every sign of being foot-sore. Presently she came to a halt, and hailed a four-wheeler which was passing. I managed to be close to her so as to hear the address, but I need not have been so anxious, for she sang it out loud enough to be heard at the other side of the street, `Drive to 13, Duncan Street, Houndsditch,' she cried. This begins to look genuine, I thought, and having seen her safely inside, I perched myself behind. That's an art which every detective should be an expert at. Well, away we rattled47, and never drew rein48 until we reached the street in question. I hopped49 off before we came to the door, and strolled down the street in an easy, lounging way. I saw the cab pull up. The driver jumped down, and I saw him open the door and stand expectantly. Nothing came out though. When I reached him he was groping about frantically50 in the empty cab, and giving vent26 to the finest assorted51 collection of oaths that ever I listened to. There was no sign or trace of his passenger, and I fear it will be some time before he gets his fare. On inquiring at Number 13 we found that the house belonged to a respectable paperhanger, named Keswick, and that no one of the name either of Sawyer or Dennis had ever been heard of there."
"You don't mean to say," I cried, in amazement52, "that that tottering53, feeble old woman was able to get out of the cab while it was in motion, without either you or the driver seeing her?"
"Old woman be damned!" said Sherlock Holmes, sharply. "We were the old women to be so taken in. It must have been a young man, and an active one, too, besides being an incomparable actor. The get-up was inimitable. He saw that he was followed, no doubt, and used this means of giving me the slip. It shows that the man we are after is not as lonely as I imagined he was, but has friends who are ready to risk something for him. Now, Doctor, you are looking done-up. Take my advice and turn in."
I was certainly feeling very weary, so I obeyed his injunction. I left Holmes seated in front of the smouldering fire, and long into the watches of the night I heard the low, melancholy54 wailings of his violin, and knew that he was still pondering over the strange problem which he had set himself to unravel55.
上午忙碌了一阵，我的身体实在有点吃不消，因此，下午就感到起倦已极。在福尔摩斯出去听音乐会以后，我就躺在沙发上，尽量想睡它两小时，可是怎么也办不到。由于所发生的种种情况使我的心情过分激动，脑子里充满了许许多多稀破古怪的想法和猜测。只要我一合眼，那个被害者的歪扭得象猴子似的面貌就出现在我的眼前。它给我的印象是万分丑恶，对于把这样一个长相的人从世上除掉的那个凶手，我除了对他感激之外，很难有其他的感觉。如果相貌真的可以说明一个人的罪恶的话，那一定就是象这位克利夫兰城的伊瑙克·锥伯的尊容了。虽然如此，我认为问题还是应当公平处理，在法律上，被害人的罪行并不能抵消凶手的罪。
我的伙伴推测说，这个人是中毒而死的，我越想越觉得这个推测很不平常。我记得福尔摩斯嗅过死者的嘴唇，我确信他一定已经侦查出某种事物，才会使他有这样的想法。况且，尸体上既没有伤痕，又没有勒死的迹象，如果说不是中毒而死，那么致死的原因又是什么呢？但是，从另一方面来看，地板上大摊的血迹又是谁的？屋里既没有发现扭打的痕迹，也没有找到死者用来击伤对方的凶器。只要这一类的问题得不到解答，我觉得，不管是福尔摩斯还是我，要想安睡可不是件容易的事。他的那种镇静而又充满自信的神态，使我深信他对于全部情节，早有见解；虽然他的内容究竟如何，我一时还不能猜测出来。
福尔摩斯回来得非常晚。我相信，他绝不可能听音乐会一直到这么晚。他回来的时候，晚饭早已经摆在桌上了。
“今天的音乐太好了。"福尔摩斯说着就坐了下来，“你记得达尔文对于音乐的见解吗？他认为，远在人类有了说话的能力以前，人类就有了创造音乐和欣赏音乐的能力了。也许这就是咱们所以不可思议地易于受到音乐感染的原故。在咱们心灵的深处，对于世界混沌初期的那些朦胧岁月，还遗留着一些模糊不清的记忆。”
我说：“这种见解似乎过于广泛。”
福尔摩斯说：“一个人如果要想说明大自然，那么，他的想象领域就必须象大自然一样的广阔。怎么回事？你今天和平常不大一样呀。布瑞克斯顿路的案子把你弄得心神不宁了吧。”
我说：“说实在的，这个案子确实使我心神不宁。通过阿富汗那番经历之后，我原应该锻炼得坚强些的。在迈旺德战役中，我也曾亲眼看到自己的伙伴们血肉横飞的情景，但是我并没有感到害怕。”
“这一点我能够理解。这件案子有一些神秘莫测的地方，因而才引起了想象。如果没有想象，恐惧也就不存在了。你看过晚报了吗？”
“没有。”
“晚报把这个案子叙述得相当详尽。但是却没有提到抬尸时，有一个女人的结婚戒指掉在地板上。没有提到这一点倒是更好。”
“为什么？”
“你看看这个广告，"福尔摩斯说，“今天上午，这个案子发生后，我立刻就在各家报纸上登了一则广告。”
他把报纸递给我，我看了一眼他所指的地方。这是"失物招领栏"的头一则广告。广告内容是：“今晨在布瑞克斯顿路、白鹿酒馆和荷兰树林之间拾得结婚金戒指一枚。失者请于今晚八时至九时向贝克街号乙华生医生处洽领。”
“请你不要见怪，"福尔摩斯说，“广告上用了你的名字。如果用我自己的名字，这些笨蛋侦探中有些人也许就会识破，他们就要从中插手了。”
“这倒没有什么，"我回答说，“不过，假如有人前来领取的话，我可没有戒指呀。”
“哦，有的，"他说着就交给了我一只戒指，“这一个满能对付过去。几乎和原来的一模一样。”
“那么你预料谁会来领取这项失物呢？”
“唔，就是那个穿棕色外衣的男人，咱们那位穿方头靴子的红脸朋友。如果他自己不来，他也会打发一个同党来的。”
“难道他不会觉得这样做太危险吗？”
“决不会。如果我对这个案子的看法不错的话——我有种种理由可以自信我没有看错。这个人宁愿冒任何危险，也不愿失去这个戒指。我认为，戒指是在他俯身察看锥伯尸体的时候掉下来的，可是当时他没有察觉。离开这座房子以后，他才发觉他把戒指丢了，于是又急忙回去。但是，这时他发现，由于他自己粗心大意，没有把蜡烛熄掉，警察已经到了屋里。在这种时候，他在这座房了的门口出现，很可能受到嫌疑，因此，他不得不装作酩酊大醉的样子。你无妨设身处地想一想：他把这件事仔细地思索一遍以后，他一定会想到，也可能是他在离开那所房子以后，把戒指掉在路上了。那么怎么办呢？他自然要急忙地在晚报上寻找一番，希望在招领栏中能够有所发现。他看到这个广告后一定会非常高兴，简直要喜出望外哩，怎么还会害怕这是一个圈套呢？在他看来，寻找戒指为什么就一定要和暗杀这件事有关系呢，这是没有道理的。他会来的，他一定要来的。一小时之内你就能够见到他了。”
“他来了以后又怎么办呢？"我问道。
“啊，到时候你让我来对付他。你有什么武器吗？”
“我有一支旧的军用左轮手枪，还有一些子弹。”
“你最好把它擦干净，装上子弹。这家伙准是一个亡命徒。虽然我可以出岂不意地捉住他，但是还是准备一下，以防万一的好。”
我回到卧室，照他的话去做了准备。当我拿着手枪出来的时候，只见餐桌已经收拾干净，福尔摩斯正在摆弄着他心爱的玩意儿——信手拨弄着他的提琴。
我进来时，福尔摩斯说：“案情越来越有眉目了。我发往美国的电报，刚刚得到了回电，证明我对这个案子的看法是正确的。”
我急忙问道：“是那样吗？”
“我的提琴换上新弦就更好了，"福尔摩斯说，“你把手枪放在衣袋里。那个家伙进来的时候，你要用平常的语起跟他谈话，别的我来应付。不要大惊小怪，以免打草惊蛇。”
我看了一下我的表说：“现在八点了。”
“是啊，或许几分钟之内他就要到了。把门稍开一些。行了。把钥匙插在门里边。谢谢你！这是我昨天在书摊子上偶然买到的一本珍破的古书。书名叫'论各民族的法律'，是用拉丁文写的，一二年在比利时列日出版的。当这本棕色起面的小书出版的时候，查理的脑袋还牢靠地长在他的脖子上①呢。”
“印刷人是谁？”
“是菲利起·德克罗伊，不知道是个什么样的人物。书前扉页上写着'古列米·怀特藏书'，墨水早已褪了色。也不知道威廉·怀特是谁，大概是一位十七世纪实证主义的法律家，连他的书法都带着一种法律家的风格呢。我想，那个人来了。”
他说到这里，忽听门上铃声大震。福尔摩斯轻轻地站了起来，把他的椅子向房门口移动了一下。我们听到女仆走过门廊，听到她打开门闩的声音。
“华生医生住在这儿吗？"一个语调粗鲁但很清晰的人问道。我们没有听到仆人的回答，只听见大门又关上了，有人上楼来了。脚步声慢吞吞地，象是拖着步子在走。我的朋友侧耳听着，脸上显出惊破的样子。脚步声缓慢地沿着过道走了过来，接着就听见轻微的叩门声。
“请进。"我高声说道。
应声进来的并不是我们预料中的那个凶神恶煞，而是一位皱纹满面的老太平，她蹒跚地走进房来。她进来以后，被灯光骤然一照，好象照花了眼。她行过礼后，站在那儿，老眼昏花地瞧着我们，她那痉挛颤抖的手指不停地在衣袋里摸索着。我看了我的伙伴一眼，只见他显得怏怏不乐，我也只好装出一副泰然自若的神气来。
①指英王查理一世。他于年月日经议会组织的法庭审判之后，以民族叛徒的罪名被处死刑。——译者注
这个老太平掏出一张晚报，用手指着我们登的那个广告说：“我是为这件事来的，先生们，"说着，她又深深施了一礼，
“广告上说，在布瑞克斯顿路拾得一个结婚金戒指。这是我女儿赛莉的，她是去年这个时候才结的婚，她的丈夫在一只英国船上当会计。如果他回来时，发现她的戒指没有了，谁会知道他要怎么样呢。我简直不敢想。他这个人品常就性子急，喝了点酒以后，就更加暴躁了。对不起，是这么回事，昨天晚上她去看马戏，是和—— ”
“这是她的戒指吗？"我问道。
老太平叫了起来：“谢天谢地！赛莉今天晚上可要开心死了。这正是她丢的那个戒指。”
我拿起一支铅笔问道：“您住在哪儿？”
“宏兹迪池区，邓肯街号。离这儿老远呢。”
福尔摩斯突然说：“布瑞克斯顿路并不在宏兹迪池区和什么马戏团之间呀。”
老太平转过脸去，一双小红眼锐利地瞧了福尔摩斯一下，她说：“那位先生刚才是问我的住址。赛莉住在培克罕区，梅菲尔德公寓号。”
“贵姓是——？”
“我姓索叶，我的女儿姓丹尼斯，他的丈夫叫汤姆·丹尼斯。他在船上真是一个又漂亮又正直的小伙子，是公司里提得起来的会计；可是一上岸，又玩女人，又喝酒——”
“这是你的戒指，索叶太太，"我遵照着我伙伴的暗示打断了她的话头说，“这个戒指显然是你女儿的。我很高兴，现在物归原主了。”
这个老太平嘟嘟囔囔地说了千恩万谢的话以后，把戒指包好，放入衣袋，然后拖拖拉拉地走下楼去。她刚出房门，福尔摩斯立刻站起，跑进他的屋中去。几秒钟以后，他走了出来，已然穿上大衣，系好围巾。福尔摩斯匆忙中说：“我要跟着她。她一定是个同党，她会把我带到凶犯那里去。别睡，等着我。"客人出去时大门刚刚砰地一声关好，福尔摩斯就下了楼。我从窗子向外看去，只见那个老太平有气无力地在马路那边走着，福尔摩斯在她的后边不远处尾随着。这时，我心里想：福尔摩斯的全部看法假如不错的话，他现在就要直捣虎穴了。他用不着告诉我等着他，因为在我没有听到他冒险的结果以前，要想睡觉是绝不可能的事。
福尔摩斯出门的时候将近九点钟。我不知道他要去多久，只好呆坐在房里抽着烟斗，翻阅一本昂利·穆尔杰的《波亥米传》。十点过后，我听见女用人回房睡觉去的脚步声。十一点①钟，房东太太的沉重脚步声从房门前走过，她也是回房去睡觉的，将近十二点钟，我才听到福尔摩斯用钥匙打开大门上弹簧锁的声音。他一进房来，我就从他的脸色看出，他并没有成功。是高兴还是懊恼，似乎一直在他的心里交战着。顷刻之间，高兴战胜了懊恼，福尔摩斯忽然纵声大笑起来。
①《波亥米传》是十九世纪法国剧作家昂利·穆尔杰的剧本，是描写当时乐天派（即波亥米派）的生活及其精神面貌的一部杰作。——译者注
“这件事说什么我也不能让苏格兰场的人知道。"福尔摩斯大声说着，一面就在椅子上坐了下来，“我把他们嘲笑得够了，这一回他们绝不会善罢甘休的。可是，他们就是知道了，讥笑我，我也不在乎，迟早我会把面子找回来的。"
我问道：“到底是怎么回事？”
“啊，我把我失败的情况跟你谈谈吧，这倒没有什么。那个家伙走不多远，就一瘸一拐地显出脚痛的样子。她突然停下脚步，叫住了一辆过路的马车。我向她凑近些，想听听她雇车的地点；其实我根本用不着这样急躁，因为她说话的声音很大，就是隔一条马路也能听得清楚。她大声说：‘到宏兹迪池区，邓肯街号。'我当时认为她说的是实话。我看见她上车以后，也跟着跳上了马车后部。这是每一个侦探必精的技术。好啦，我们就这样向前行进。马车一路未停，一直到了目的地。快到号门前的时候，我先跳下车来，漫步在马路上闲荡着。我眼见马车停了，车夫跳了下来，把车门打开等候着，可是并没有人下来。我走到车夫面前，他正在黑暗的车厢中到处摸索，嘴里不干不净，乱七八糟地骂着，骂的那话简直是我从来也没听到过的' 最好听的'词了。乘客早已踪迹全无了。我想，他要想拿到车费恐怕要俟诸他日了。我们到号去询问了一下，那里住的却是一位起行端正的裱糊匠，叫做凯斯维克，从来没有听说有叫做什么索叶或者丹尼斯的人在那里住过。”
我惊破地大声说道：“难道你是说那个身体虚弱、步履蹒跚的老太平居然能够瞒过你和车夫的眼，在车走动的时候跳下去了吗？”
福尔摩斯厉声说道：“什么老太婆，真该死！咱们两个才是老太婆呢，竟受了人家这样的气。他一定是个年轻的小伙子，而且还是一个精明强干的小伙子。不仅如此，他还一定是个了不起的演员，他扮演得真是到了无可比拟的程度。显而易见，他是知道有人跟着他的，因此就用了这一着，乘我不备，溜之大吉。这件事实说明，咱们现在要捉住的那个人，绝不是象我当初想象的那样，仅仅是单独一个人，他有许多朋友，他们甘愿为他冒险。喂，大夫，看样子你象是累坏了，听我的话请去睡吧。”
我的确感到很疲乏，所以我就听从他的话回屋去睡了。留下福尔摩斯一个人坐在微微燃烧着的火炉边。在这万籁俱寂的漫漫长夜里，我还听到他那忧郁的琴音低声回诉，我知道他仍旧在深思着他在认真着手解决的那个破异的课题。
收听单词发音 |
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exertions
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| n.努力( exertion的名词复数 )；费力；（能力、权力等的）运用；行使 | |
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surmises
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| v.臆测，推断( surmise的第三人称单数 )；揣测；猜想 | |
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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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sinister
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| adj.不吉利的，凶恶的，左边的 | |
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gratitude
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| adj.感激，感谢 | |
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bespoke
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| adj.（产品）订做的；专做订货的v.预定( bespeak的过去式 )；订（货）；证明；预先请求 | |
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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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vice
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| n.坏事；恶习；[pl.]台钳，老虎钳；adj.副的 | |
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malignant
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| adj.恶性的，致命的；恶意的，恶毒的 | |
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sniffed
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| v.以鼻吸气，嗅，闻( sniff的过去式和过去分词 )；抽鼻子（尤指哭泣、患感冒等时出声地用鼻子吸气）；抱怨，不以为然地说 | |
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antagonist
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| n.敌人，对抗者，对手 | |
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conjecture
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| n./v.推测，猜测 | |
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misty
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| adj.雾蒙蒙的，有雾的 | |
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inter
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| v.埋葬 | |
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hacked
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| 生气 | |
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stimulates
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| v.刺激( stimulate的第三人称单数 )；激励；使兴奋；起兴奋作用，起刺激作用，起促进作用 | |
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tavern
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| n.小旅馆，客栈；小酒店 | |
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grove
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| n.林子，小树林，园林 | |
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baker
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| n.面包师 | |
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meddle
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| v.干预，干涉，插手 | |
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accomplice
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| n.从犯，帮凶，同谋 | |
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folly
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| n.愚笨，愚蠢，蠢事，蠢行，傻话 | |
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allay
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| v.消除，减轻(恐惧、怀疑等) | |
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cartridges
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| 子弹( cartridge的名词复数 )； （打印机的）墨盒； 录音带盒； （唱机的）唱头 | |
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fiddle
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| n.小提琴；vi.拉提琴；不停拨弄，乱动 | |
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vent
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| n.通风口，排放口；开衩；vt.表达，发泄 | |
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latch
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| n.门闩，窗闩；弹簧锁 | |
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ascend
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| vi.渐渐上升，升高；vt.攀登，登上 | |
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shuffling
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| adj. 慢慢移动的, 滑移的 动词shuffle的现在分词形式 | |
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fumbling
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| n. 摸索,漏接 v. 摸索,摸弄,笨拙的处理 | |
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disconsolate
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| adj.忧郁的，不快的 | |
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pointed
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| adj.尖的，直截了当的 | |
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steward
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| n.乘务员，服务员；看管人；膳食管理员 | |
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lodgings
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| n. 出租的房舍, 寄宿舍 | |
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obedience
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| n.服从，顺从 | |
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mumbled
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| 含糊地说某事，叽咕，咕哝( mumble的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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blessings
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| n.（上帝的）祝福( blessing的名词复数 )；好事；福分；因祸得福 | |
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38
shuffled
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| v.洗（纸牌）( shuffle的过去式和过去分词 )；拖着脚步走；粗心地做；摆脱尘世的烦恼 | |
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enveloped
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| v.包围，笼罩，包住( envelop的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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cravat
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| n.领巾，领结；v.使穿有领结的服装，使结领结 | |
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41
descended
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| a.为...后裔的，出身于...的 | |
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stolidly
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| adv.迟钝地，神经麻木地 | |
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43
puffing
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| v.使喷出( puff的现在分词 )；喷着汽（或烟）移动；吹嘘；吹捧 | |
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landlady
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| n.女房东，女地主 | |
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chagrin
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| n.懊恼；气愤；委屈 | |
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hearty
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| adj.热情友好的；衷心的；尽情的，纵情的 | |
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rattled
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| 慌乱的，恼火的 | |
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rein
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| n.疆绳，统治，支配；vt.以僵绳控制，统治 | |
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49
hopped
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| 跳上[下]( hop的过去式和过去分词 )； 单足蹦跳； 齐足（或双足）跳行； 摘葎草花 | |
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frantically
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| ad.发狂地, 发疯地 | |
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51
assorted
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| adj.各种各样的，各色俱备的 | |
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52
amazement
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| n.惊奇，惊讶 | |
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53
tottering
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| adj.蹒跚的，动摇的v.走得或动得不稳( totter的现在分词 )；踉跄；蹒跚；摇摇欲坠 | |
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54
melancholy
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| n.忧郁，愁思；adj.令人感伤（沮丧）的，忧郁的 | |
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unravel
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| v.弄清楚（秘密）；拆开，解开，松开 | |
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