HER MEMORIES of the interrogation and signed statements and testimony1, or of her awe2 outside the courtroom from which her youth excluded her, would not trouble her so much in the years to come as her fragmented recollection of that late night and summer dawn. How guilt3 refined the methods of self-torture, threading the beads4 of detail into an eternal loop, a rosary to be fingered for a lifetime.
Back in the house at last, there began a dreamlike time of grave arrivals, tears and subdued5 voices and urgent footsteps across the hallway, and her own vile6 excitement that kept her drowsiness7 at bay. Of course, Briony was old enough to know that the moment was entirely8 Lola’s, but she was soon led away by sympathetic womanly hands to her bedroom to await the doctor and his examination. Briony watched from the foot of the stairs as Lola ascended10, sobbing11 loudly and flanked by Emily and Betty, and followed by Polly who carried a basin and towels. Her cousin’s removal left Briony center stage—there was no sign yet of Robbie—and the way she was listened to, deferred12 to and gently prompted seemed at one with her new maturity13.
It must have been about this time that a Humber stopped outside the house and two police inspectors15 and two constables16 were shown in. Briony was their only source, and she made herself speak calmly. Her vital role fueled her certainty. This was in the unstructured time before formal interviews, when she was standing18 facing the officers in the hallway, with Leon on one side of her and her mother on the other. But how had her mother materialized so quickly from Lola’s bedside? The senior inspector14 had a heavy face, rich in seams, as though carved from folded granite19. Briony was fearful of him as she told her story to this watchful20 unmoving mask; as she did so she felt a weight lifting from her and a warm submissive feeling spread from her stomach to her limbs. It was like love, a sudden love for this watchful man who stood unquestioningly for the cause of goodness, who came out at all hours to do battle in its name, and who was backed by all the human powers and wisdom that existed. Under his neutral gaze her throat constricted21 and her voice began to buckle22. She wanted the inspector to embrace her and comfort her and forgive her, however guiltless she was. But he would only look at her and listen. It was him. I saw him. Her tears were further proof of the truth she felt and spoke23, and when her mother’s hand caressed24 her nape, she broke down completely and was led toward the drawing room.
But if she was there being consoled by her mother on the Chesterfield, how did she come to remember the arrival of Dr. McLaren in his black waistcoat and his old-fashioned raised shirt collar, carrying the Gladstone bag that had been witness to the three births and all the childhood illnesses of the Tallis household? Leon conferred with the doctor, leaning toward him to murmur25 a manly9 summary of events. Where was Leon’s carefree lightness now? This quiet consultation26 was typical of the hours to come. Each fresh arrival was briefed in this way; people—police, doctor, family members, servants—stood in knots that unraveled and re-formed in corners of rooms, the hallway and the terrace outside the French windows. Nothing was brought together, or formulated27 in public. Everyone knew the terrible facts of a violation28, but it remained everyone’s secret, shared in whispers among shifting groups that broke away self-importantly to new business. Even more serious, potentially, was the matter of the missing children. But the general view, constantly reiterated29 like a magic spell, was that they were safely asleep somewhere in the park. In this way attention remained mostly fixed30 on the plight31 of the girl upstairs.
Paul Marshall came in from searching and learned the news from the inspectors. He walked up and down the terrace with them, one on each side, and on the turn offered them cigarettes from a gold case. When their conversation was over, he patted the senior man on the shoulder and seemed to send them on their way. Then he came inside to confer with Emily Tallis. Leon led the doctor upstairs who descended32 some while later intangibly enlarged by his professional encounter with the core of all their concerns. He too stood in lengthy33 conference with the two plainclothesmen, and then with Leon, and finally with Leon and Mrs. Tallis. Not long before his departure, the doctor came and placed his familiar small dry hand on Briony’s forehead, fingered her pulse and was satisfied. He took up his bag, but before he was gone there was a final muttered interview by the front door.
Where was Cecilia? She hovered34 on the peripheries35, speaking to no one, always smoking, raising the cigarette to her lips with a rapid, hungry movement, and pulling it away in agitated36 disgust. At other times she twisted a handkerchief in her hand as she paced the hallway. Normally, she would have taken control of a situation like this, directing the care of Lola, reassuring37 her mother, listening to the doctor’s advice, consulting with Leon. Briony was close by when her brother came over to talk to Cecilia, who turned away, unable to help, or even speak. As for their mother, untypically she rose to the crisis, free of migraine and the need to be alone. She actually grew as her older daughter shrank into private misery38. There were times when Briony, called on again to give her account, or some detail of it, saw her sister approach within earshot and look on with a smoldering39 impenetrable gaze. Briony became nervous of her and kept close to her mother’s side. Cecilia’s eyes were bloodshot. While others stood murmuring in groups, she moved restlessly up and down the room, or from one room to another, or, on at least two occasions, went to stand outside the front door. Nervously40, she transferred the hankie from one hand to the other, coiled it between her fingers, unwound it, squeezed it in a ball, took it in the other hand, lit another cigarette. When Betty and Polly brought round tea, Cecilia would not touch it.
Word came down that Lola, sedated41 by the doctor, was at last asleep, and the news provided temporary relief. Unusually, everyone had gathered in the drawing room where tea was taken in exhausted42 silence. Nobody said it, but they were waiting for Robbie. Also, Mr. Tallis was expected from London at any moment. Leon and Marshall were leaning over a map they were drawing of the grounds for the inspector’s benefit. He took it, studied it and passed it to his assistant. The two constables had been sent out to join those looking for Pierrot and Jackson, and more policemen were supposed to be on their way down to the bungalow44 in case Robbie had gone there. Like Marshall, Cecilia sat apart, on the harpsichord45 stool. At one point she rose to get a light from her brother, but it was the chief inspector who obliged her with his own lighter46. Briony was next to her mother on the sofa, and Betty and Polly took round the tray. Briony was to have no memory of what suddenly prompted her. An idea of great clarity and persuasiveness47 came from nowhere, and she did not need to announce her intentions, or ask her sister’s permission. Clinching48 evidence, cleanly independent of her own version. Verification. Or even another, separate crime. She startled the room with her gasp49 of inspiration, and almost knocked her mother’s tea from her lap as she stood.
They all watched as she hurried from the room, but no one questioned her, such was the general fatigue50. She, on the other hand, was taking the stairs two at a time, energized51 now by a sense of doing and being good, on the point of springing a surprise that could only earn her praise. It was rather like that Christmas morning sensation of being about to give a present that was bound to cause delight, a joyful52 feeling of blameless self-love.
She ran along the second-floor corridor to Cecilia’s room. What squalor and disorder53 her sister lived in! Both wardrobe doors hung wide open. Various dresses were skewed out of their rows and some were half off their hangers54. On the floor two dresses, one black, one pink, silky expensive-looking things, lay in a tangle55, and round this pile lay kicked-off shoes on their sides. Briony stepped over and around the mess to get to the dressing56 table. What was the impulse that prevented Cecilia from replacing the caps and lids and screwtops of her makeup57 and perfumes? Why did she never empty her stinking58 ashtray59? Or make her bed, or open a window to let in the fresh air? The first drawer she tried opened only a couple of inches—it was jammed, crammed60 full of bottles and a cardboard package. Cecilia might have been ten years older, but there really was something quite hopeless and helpless about her. Even though Briony was fearful of the wild look her sister had downstairs, it was right, the younger girl thought as she pulled open another drawer, that she was there for her, thinking clearly, on her behalf.
Five minutes later, when she reentered the drawing room in triumph, no one paid her any attention, and everything was exactly the same—tired, miserable61 adults sipping62 tea and smoking in silence. In her excitement she had not considered who it was she should give the letter to; a trick of her imagination had everyone reading it at once. She decided63 Leon should have it. She crossed the room toward her brother, but when she arrived in front of the three men she changed her mind and put the folded sheet of paper into the hands of the policeman with the face of granite. If he had an expression, it did not change as he took the letter nor when he read it, which he did at great speed, almost at a glance. His eyes met hers, then shifted to take in Cecilia who was facing away. With the slightest movement of his wrist he indicated that the other policeman should take the letter. When he was finished it was passed on to Leon who read it, folded it and returned it to the senior inspector. Briony was impressed by the muted response—such was the three men’s worldliness. It was only now that Emily Tallis became aware of the focus of their interest. In answer to her unemphatic query64 Leon said, “It’s just a letter.”
“I’ll read it.”
For the second time that evening Emily was obliged to assert her rights over written messages passing through her household. Feeling that nothing more was required of her, Briony went to sit on the Chesterfield and watched from her mother’s perspective the chivalrous65 unease that shifted between Leon and the policemen.
“I’ll read it.”
Ominously66, she did not vary her tone. Leon shrugged67 and forced an apologetic smile—what possible objection could he have?—and Emily’s mild gaze settled on the two inspectors. She belonged to a generation that treated policemen as menials, whatever their rank. Obedient to the nod from his superior, the younger inspector crossed the room and presented the letter to her. At last Cecilia, who must have been a long way off in her thoughts, was taking an interest. Then the letter lay exposed on her mother’s lap, and Cecilia was on her feet, then moving toward them from the harpsichord stool.
“How dare you! How dare you all!”
Leon stood too and made a calming gesture with his palms. “Cee . . .”
When she made a lunge to snatch the letter from her mother, she found not only her brother but the two policemen in her way. Marshall was standing too, but not interfering68.
“It belongs to me,” she shouted. “You have absolutely no right!”
Emily did not even look up from her reading, and she gave herself time to read the letter several times over. When she was done she met her daughter’s fury with her own colder version.
“If you had done the right thing, young lady, with all your education, and come to me with this, then something could have been done in time and your cousin would have been spared her nightmare.”
For a moment Cecilia stood alone in the center of the room, fluttering the fingers of her right hand, staring at them each in turn, unable to believe her association with such people, unable to begin to tell them what she knew. And though Briony felt vindicated69 by the reaction of the adults, and was experiencing the onset70 of a sweet and inward rapture71, she was also pleased to be down on the sofa with her mother, partially72 screened by the standing men from her sister’s red-eyed contempt. She held them in its grip for several seconds before she turned and walked out of the room. As she went across the hallway she gave out a cry of sheer vexation which was amplified73 by the raw acoustic74 of the bare floor tiles. In the drawing room there was a sense of relief, of relaxation75 almost, as they heard her go up the stairs. When Briony next remembered to look, the letter was in Marshall’s hands and he was passing it back to the inspector who placed it unfolded into a binder76 which the younger policeman was holding open for him.
The hours of the night spun77 away from her and she remained untired. It occurred to no one to send her to her bed. Some immeasurable time after Cecilia had gone to her room, Briony went with her mother to the library to have the first of her formal interviews with the police. Mrs. Tallis remained standing, while Briony sat on one side of the writing desk and the inspectors sat on the other. The one with the face of ancient rock, who was the one who asked the questions, turned out to be infinitely78 kind, speaking his unhurried questions in a gruff voice that was both gentle and sad. Since she was able to show them the precise location of Robbie’s attack on Cecilia, they all wandered into that corner of the bookshelves to take a closer look. Briony wedged herself in, with her back to the books to show them how her sister was positioned, and saw the first mid-blue touches of dawn in the panes79 of the library’s high windows. She stepped out and turned around to demonstrate the attacker’s stance and showed where she herself had stood.
Emily said, “But why didn’t you tell me?”
The policemen looked at Briony and waited. It was a good question, but it would never have occurred to her to trouble her mother. Nothing but a migraine would have come of it.
“We were called into dinner, then the twins ran off.”
She explained how she came by the letter, on the bridge at dusk. What led her to open it? Difficult to describe the impulsive80 moment, when she had not permitted herself to think of the consequences before acting81, or how the writer she had only that day become needed to know, to understand everything that came her way.
She said, “I don’t know. I was being horribly nosy82. I hated myself.”
It was about this time that a constable17 put his head round the door to give news that seemed at one with the calamity83 of the night. Mr. Tallis’s driver had rung from a phone box near Croydon Airport. The departmental car, made available at short notice through the kindness of the minister, had broken down in the suburbs. Jack43 Tallis was asleep under a rug on the backseat and would probably have to continue by the first morning train. Once these facts had been absorbed and lamented84, Briony was gently returned to the scene itself, to the events on the lake island. At this early stage, the inspector was careful not to oppress the young girl with probing questions, and within this sensitively created space she was able to build and shape her narrative85 in her own words and establish the key facts: there was just sufficient light for her to recognize a familiar face; when he shrank away from her and circled the clearing, his movements and height were familiar to her as well.
“You saw him then.”
“I know it was him.”
“Let’s forget what you know. You’re saying you saw him.”
“Yes, I saw him.”
“Just as you see me.”
“Yes.”
“You saw him with your own eyes.”
“Yes. I saw him. I saw him.”
Thus her first formal interview concluded. While she sat in the drawing room, feeling her tiredness at last, but unwilling86 to go to bed, her mother was questioned, then Leon and Paul Marshall. Old Hardman and his son Danny were brought in for interview. Briony heard Betty say that Danny was at home all evening with his father who was able to vouch87 for him. Various constables came to the front door from searching for the twins and were shown through to the kitchen. In the confused and unmemorable time of that early dawn, Briony gathered that Cecilia was refusing to leave her room, refusing to come down to be interviewed. In the days to come she would be given no choice and when she finally yielded up her own account of what happened in the library—in its way, far more shocking than Briony’s, however consensual the encounter had been—it merely confirmed the general view that had formed: Mr. Turner was a dangerous man. Cecilia’s repeated suggestion that it was Danny Hardman they should be talking to was heard in silence. It was understandable, though poor form, that this young woman should be covering for her friend by casting suspicion on an innocent boy.
Sometime after five, when there was talk of breakfast being prepared, at least for the constables, for no one else was hungry, the word flashed through the household that a figure who might be Robbie was approaching across the park. Perhaps someone had been watching from an upstairs window. Briony did not know how the decision was made that they should all go outside to wait for him. Suddenly, they were all there, family, Paul Marshall, Betty and her helpers, the policemen, a reception party grouped tightly around the front entrance. Only Lola in a drugged coma88 and Cecilia with her fury remained upstairs. It might have been that Mrs. Tallis did not want the polluting presence to step inside her house. The inspector may have feared violence which was more easily dealt with outdoors where there was more space to make an arrest. All the magic of dawn had gone now, and in its place was a gray early morning, distinguished89 only by a summer’s mist which was sure to burn off soon.
At first they saw nothing, though Briony thought she could make out the tread of shoes along the drive. Then everyone could hear it, and there was a collective murmur and shifting of weight as they caught sight of an indefinable shape, no more than a grayish smudge against the white, almost a hundred yards away. As the shape took form the waiting group fell silent again. No one could quite believe what was emerging. Surely it was a trick of the mist and light. No one in this age of telephones and motorcars could believe that giants seven or eight feet high existed in crowded Surrey. But here it was, an apparition91 as inhuman92 as it was purposeful. The thing was impossible and undeniable, and heading their way. Betty, who was known to be a Catholic, crossed herself as the little crowd huddled93 closer to the entrance. Only the senior inspector took a couple of paces forward, and as he did so everything became clear. The clue was a second, tiny shape that bobbed alongside the first. Then it was obvious—this was Robbie, with one boy sitting up on his shoulders and the other holding his hand and trailing a little behind. When he was less than thirty feet away, Robbie stopped, and seemed about to speak, but waited instead as the inspector and the other policemen approached. The boy on his shoulders appeared to be asleep. The other boy let his head loll against Robbie’s waist and drew the man’s hand across his chest for protection or warmth.
Briony’s immediate94 feeling was one of relief that the boys were safe. But as she looked at Robbie waiting calmly, she experienced a flash of outrage95. Did he believe he could conceal96 his crime behind an apparent kindness, behind this show of being the good shepherd? This was surely a cynical97 attempt to win forgiveness for what could never be forgiven. She was confirmed again in her view that evil was complicated and misleading. Suddenly, her mother’s hands were pressing firmly on her shoulders and turning her toward the house, delivering her into Betty’s care. Emily wanted her daughter well away from Robbie Turner. It was bedtime at last. Betty took a firm grip of her hand and was leading her in as her mother and brother went forward to collect the twins. Briony’s last glimpse back over her shoulder as she was pulled away showed her Robbie raising two hands, as though in surrender. He lifted the boy clear of his head and placed him gently on the ground.
An hour later she was lying on her canopy98 bed in the clean white cotton nightdress which Betty had found for her. The curtains were drawn99, but the daylight gleam around their edges was strong, and for all her spinning sensations of tiredness, she could not sleep. Voices and images were ranged around her bedside, agitated, nagging100 presences, jostling and merging90, resisting her attempts to set them in order. Were they all really bounded by a single day, by one period of unbroken wakefulness, from the innocent rehearsals101 of her play to the emergence102 of the giant from the mist? All that lay between was too clamorous103, too fluid to understand, though she sensed she had succeeded, even triumphed. She kicked the sheet clear of her legs and turned the pillow to find a cooler patch for her cheeks. In her dizzy state she was not able to say exactly what her success had been; if it was to have gained a new maturity, she could hardly feel it now when she was so helpless, so childish even, through lack of sleep, to the point where she thought she could easily make herself cry. If it was brave to have identified a thoroughly104 bad person, then it was wrong of him to turn up with the twins like that, and she felt cheated. Who would believe her now, with Robbie posing as the kindly105 rescuer of lost children? All her work, all her courage and clearheadedness, all she had done to bring Lola home—for nothing. They would turn their backs on her, her mother, the policemen, her brother, and go off with Robbie Turner to indulge some adult cabal106. She wanted her mother, she wanted to put her arms round her mother’s neck and pull her lovely face close to hers, but her mother wouldn’t come now, no one would come to Briony, no one would talk to her now. She turned her face into the pillow and let her tears drain into it, and felt that yet more was lost, when there was no witness to her sorrow.
She had been lying in the semidarkness nursing this palatable107 sadness for half an hour when she heard the sound of the police car parked below her window starting up. It rolled across the gravel108, then stopped. There were voices and the crunch109 of several footsteps. She got up and parted the curtains. The mist was still there, but it was brighter, as though illuminated110 from within, and she half closed her eyes while they adjusted to the glare. All four doors of the police Humber were wide open, and three constables were waiting by it. The voices came from a group directly below her, by the front door, just out of sight. Then came the sound of footsteps again, and they emerged, the two inspectors, with Robbie between them. And handcuffed! She saw how his arms were forced in front of him, and from her vantage point she saw the silver glint of steel below his shirt cuff111. The disgrace of it horrified112 her. It was further confirmation113 of his guilt, and the beginning of his punishment. It had the look of eternal damnation.
They reached the car and stopped. Robbie half turned, but she could not read his expression. He stood erect114, several inches higher than the inspector, with his head lifted up. Perhaps he was proud of what he had done. One of the constables got in the driver’s seat. The junior inspector was walking round to the rear door on the far side and his chief was about to guide Robbie into the backseat. There was the sound of a commotion115 directly below Briony’s window, and of Emily Tallis’s voice calling sharply, and suddenly a figure was running toward the car as fast as was possible in a tight dress. Cecilia slowed as she approached. Robbie turned and took half a pace toward her and, surprisingly, the inspector stepped back. The handcuffs were in full view, but Robbie did not appear ashamed or even aware of them as he faced Cecilia and listened gravely to what she was saying. The impassive policemen looked on. If she was delivering the bitter indictment116 Robbie deserved to hear, it did not show on his face. Though Cecilia was facing away from her, Briony thought she was speaking with very little animation117. Her accusations118 would be all the more powerful for being muttered. They had moved closer, and now Robbie spoke briefly119, and half raised his locked hands and let them fall. She touched them with her own, and fingered his lapel, and then gripped it and shook it gently. It seemed a kindly gesture and Briony was touched by her sister’s capacity for forgiveness, if this was what it was. Forgiveness. The word had never meant a thing before, though Briony had heard it exulted120 at a thousand school and church occasions. And all the time, her sister had understood. There was, of course, much that she did not know about Cecilia. But there would be time, for this tragedy was bound to bring them closer.
The kindly inspector with the granite face must have thought he had been indulgent enough, for he stepped forward to brush away Cecilia’s hand and interpose himself. Robbie said something to her quickly over the officer’s shoulder, and turned toward the car. Considerately, the inspector raised his own hand to Robbie’s head and pressed down hard on it, so that he did not bang it as he stooped to climb into the backseat. The two inspectors wedged themselves on each side of their prisoner. The doors slammed, and the one constable left behind touched his helmet in salute121 as the car moved forward. Cecilia remained where she was, facing down the drive, tranquilly122 watching the car as it receded123, but the tremors124 along the line of her shoulders confided125 she was crying, and Briony knew she had never loved her sister more than now.
It should have ended there, this seamless day that had wrapped itself around a summer’s night, it should have concluded then with the Humber disappearing down the drive. But there remained a final confrontation126. The car had gone no more than twenty yards when it began to slow. A figure Briony had not noticed was coming down the center of the drive and showed no intention of standing to one side. It was a woman, rather short, with a rolling walk, wearing a floral print dress and gripping what looked at first like a stick but was in fact a man’s umbrella with a goose’s head. The car stopped and the horn sounded as the woman came up and stood right against the radiator127 grille. It was Robbie’s mother, Grace Turner. She raised the umbrella and shouted. The policeman in the front passenger seat had got out and was speaking to her, and then took her by the elbow. The other constable, the one who had saluted128, was hurrying over. Mrs. Turner shook her arm free, raised the umbrella again, this time with two hands, and brought it down, goose head first, with a crack like a pistol shot, onto the Humber’s shiny bonnet129. As the constables half pushed, half carried her to the edge of the drive, she began to shout a single word so loudly that Briony could hear it from her bedroom.
“Liars130! Liars! Liars!” Mrs. Turner roared.
With its front door wide open, the car moved past her slowly and stopped to let the policeman get back in. On his own, his colleague was having difficulty restraining her. She managed another swipe with her umbrella but the blow glanced off the car’s roof. He wrestled131 the umbrella from her and tossed it over his shoulder onto the grass.
“Liars! Liars!” Grace Turner shouted again, and took a few hopeless steps after the retreating car, and then stopped, hands on hips132, to watch as it went over the first bridge, crossed the island and then the second bridge, and finally vanished into the whiteness.
收听单词发音 |
1
testimony
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| n.证词；见证，证明 | |
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awe
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| n.敬畏，惊惧；vt.使敬畏，使惊惧 | |
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guilt
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| n.犯罪；内疚；过失，罪责 | |
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beads
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| n.（空心）小珠子( bead的名词复数 )；水珠；珠子项链 | |
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subdued
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| adj. 屈服的，柔和的，减弱的 动词subdue的过去式和过去分词 | |
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vile
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| adj.卑鄙的，可耻的，邪恶的；坏透的 | |
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drowsiness
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| n.睡意；嗜睡 | |
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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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manly
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| adj.有男子气概的；adv.男子般地，果断地 | |
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ascended
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| v.上升，攀登( ascend的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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sobbing
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| <主方>Ⅰ adj.湿透的 | |
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deferred
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| adj.延期的，缓召的v.拖延，延缓，推迟( defer的过去式和过去分词 )；服从某人的意愿，遵从 | |
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maturity
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| n.成熟；完成；(支票、债券等)到期 | |
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inspector
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| n.检查员，监察员，视察员 | |
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inspectors
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| n.检查员( inspector的名词复数 )；（英国公共汽车或火车上的）查票员；（警察）巡官；检阅官 | |
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constables
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| n.警察( constable的名词复数 ) | |
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constable
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| n.(英国)警察，警官 | |
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standing
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| n.持续，地位；adj.永久的，不动的，直立的，不流动的 | |
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granite
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| adj.花岗岩，花岗石 | |
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watchful
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| adj.注意的，警惕的 | |
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constricted
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| adj.抑制的，约束的 | |
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buckle
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| n.扣子，带扣；v.把...扣住，由于压力而弯曲 | |
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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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caressed
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| 爱抚或抚摸…( caress的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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murmur
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| n.低语，低声的怨言；v.低语，低声而言 | |
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consultation
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| n.咨询；商量；商议；会议 | |
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formulated
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| v.构想出( formulate的过去式和过去分词 )；规划；确切地阐述；用公式表示 | |
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violation
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| n.违反(行为)，违背(行为)，侵犯 | |
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reiterated
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| 反复地说，重申( reiterate的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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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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plight
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| n.困境，境况，誓约，艰难；vt.宣誓，保证，约定 | |
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descended
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| a.为...后裔的，出身于...的 | |
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lengthy
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| adj.漫长的，冗长的 | |
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hovered
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| 鸟( hover的过去式和过去分词 )； 靠近（某事物）； （人）徘徊； 犹豫 | |
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35
peripheries
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| n.外围( periphery的名词复数 )；边缘；周围 | |
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agitated
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| adj.被鼓动的，不安的 | |
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reassuring
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| a.使人消除恐惧和疑虑的，使人放心的 | |
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38
misery
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| n.痛苦，苦恼，苦难；悲惨的境遇，贫苦 | |
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39
smoldering
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| v.用文火焖烧，熏烧，慢燃( smolder的现在分词 ) | |
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40
nervously
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| adv.神情激动地，不安地 | |
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41
sedated
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| v.使昏昏入睡，使镇静( sedate的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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42
exhausted
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| adj.极其疲惫的，精疲力尽的 | |
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43
jack
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| n.插座，千斤顶，男人；v.抬起，提醒，扛举；n.（Jake）杰克 | |
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44
bungalow
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| n.平房，周围有阳台的木造小平房 | |
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45
harpsichord
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| n.键琴（钢琴前身） | |
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46
lighter
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| n.打火机，点火器；驳船；v.用驳船运送；light的比较级 | |
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47
persuasiveness
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| 说服力 | |
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48
clinching
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| v.（尤指两人）互相紧紧抱[扭]住( clinch的现在分词 )；解决（争端、交易），达成（协议） | |
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49
gasp
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| n.喘息，气喘；v.喘息；气吁吁他说 | |
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fatigue
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| n.疲劳，劳累 | |
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51
energized
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| v.给予…精力，能量( energize的过去式和过去分词 )；使通电 | |
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52
joyful
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| adj.欢乐的，令人欢欣的 | |
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53
disorder
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| n.紊乱，混乱；骚动，骚乱；疾病，失调 | |
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54
hangers
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| n.衣架( hanger的名词复数 )；挂耳 | |
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55
tangle
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| n.纠缠；缠结；混乱；v.(使)缠绕；变乱 | |
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dressing
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| n.(食物)调料；包扎伤口的用品，敷料 | |
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makeup
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| n.组织；性格；化装品 | |
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58
stinking
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| adj.臭的，烂醉的，讨厌的v.散发出恶臭( stink的现在分词 )；发臭味；名声臭；糟透 | |
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59
ashtray
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| n.烟灰缸 | |
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60
crammed
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| adj.塞满的，挤满的；大口地吃；快速贪婪地吃v.把…塞满；填入；临时抱佛脚( cram的过去式) | |
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61
miserable
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| adj.悲惨的，痛苦的；可怜的，糟糕的 | |
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sipping
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| v.小口喝，呷，抿( sip的现在分词 ) | |
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63
decided
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| adj.决定了的，坚决的；明显的，明确的 | |
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64
query
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| n.疑问，问号，质问；vt.询问，表示怀疑 | |
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65
chivalrous
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| adj.武士精神的；对女人彬彬有礼的 | |
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ominously
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| adv.恶兆地，不吉利地；预示地 | |
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67
shrugged
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| vt.耸肩（shrug的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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68
interfering
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| adj. 妨碍的 动词interfere的现在分词 | |
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69
vindicated
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| v.澄清（某人/某事物）受到的责难或嫌疑( vindicate的过去式和过去分词 )；表明或证明（所争辩的事物）属实、正当、有效等；维护 | |
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70
onset
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| n.进攻，袭击，开始，突然开始 | |
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71
rapture
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| n.狂喜；全神贯注；着迷；v.使狂喜 | |
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72
partially
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| adv.部分地，从某些方面讲 | |
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73
amplified
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| 放大，扩大( amplify的过去式和过去分词 )； 增强； 详述 | |
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74
acoustic
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| adj.听觉的，声音的；(乐器)原声的 | |
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75
relaxation
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| n.松弛，放松；休息；消遣；娱乐 | |
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76
binder
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| n.包扎物，包扎工具；[法]临时契约；粘合剂；装订工 | |
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77
spun
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| v.纺，杜撰，急转身 | |
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78
infinitely
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| adv.无限地，无穷地 | |
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79
panes
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| 窗玻璃( pane的名词复数 ) | |
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80
impulsive
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| adj.冲动的，刺激的；有推动力的 | |
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81
acting
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| n.演戏，行为，假装；adj.代理的，临时的，演出用的 | |
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82
nosy
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| adj.鼻子大的，好管闲事的，爱追问的；n.大鼻者 | |
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83
calamity
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| n.灾害，祸患，不幸事件 | |
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84
lamented
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| adj.被哀悼的，令人遗憾的v.（为…）哀悼，痛哭，悲伤( lament的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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85
narrative
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| n.叙述，故事；adj.叙事的，故事体的 | |
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86
unwilling
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| adj.不情愿的 | |
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87
vouch
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| v.担保；断定；n.被担保者 | |
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88
coma
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| n.昏迷，昏迷状态 | |
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89
distinguished
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| adj.卓越的，杰出的，著名的 | |
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90
merging
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| 合并（分类） | |
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91
apparition
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| n.幽灵，神奇的现象 | |
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92
inhuman
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| adj.残忍的，不人道的，无人性的 | |
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93
huddled
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| 挤在一起（huddle的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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94
immediate
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| adj.立即的；直接的，最接近的；紧靠的 | |
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95
outrage
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| n.暴行，侮辱，愤怒；vt.凌辱，激怒 | |
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96
conceal
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| v.隐藏，隐瞒，隐蔽 | |
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97
cynical
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| adj.(对人性或动机)怀疑的，不信世道向善的 | |
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98
canopy
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| n.天篷，遮篷 | |
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99
drawn
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| v.拖，拉，拔出；adj.憔悴的，紧张的 | |
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100
nagging
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| adj.唠叨的，挑剔的；使人不得安宁的v.不断地挑剔或批评（某人）( nag的现在分词 )；不断地烦扰或伤害（某人）；无休止地抱怨；不断指责 | |
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101
rehearsals
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| n.练习( rehearsal的名词复数 )；排练；复述；重复 | |
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102
emergence
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| n.浮现，显现，出现，（植物）突出体 | |
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103
clamorous
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| adj.吵闹的，喧哗的 | |
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104
thoroughly
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| adv.完全地，彻底地，十足地 | |
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105
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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106
cabal
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| n.政治阴谋小集团 | |
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107
palatable
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| adj.可口的，美味的；惬意的 | |
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108
gravel
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| n.砂跞；砂砾层；结石 | |
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109
crunch
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| n.关键时刻；艰难局面；v.发出碎裂声 | |
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110
illuminated
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| adj.被照明的；受启迪的 | |
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111
cuff
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| n.袖口；手铐；护腕；vt.用手铐铐；上袖口 | |
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112
horrified
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| a.(表现出)恐惧的 | |
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113
confirmation
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| n.证实，确认，批准 | |
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114
erect
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| n./v.树立，建立，使竖立；adj.直立的，垂直的 | |
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115
commotion
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| n.骚动，动乱 | |
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116
indictment
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| n.起诉；诉状 | |
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117
animation
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| n.活泼，兴奋，卡通片／动画片的制作 | |
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118
accusations
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| n.指责( accusation的名词复数 )；指控；控告；（被告发、控告的）罪名 | |
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119
briefly
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| adv.简单地，简短地 | |
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120
exulted
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| 狂喜，欢跃( exult的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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121
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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122
tranquilly
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| adv. 宁静地 | |
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123
receded
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| v.逐渐远离( recede的过去式和过去分词 )；向后倾斜；自原处后退或避开别人的注视；尤指问题 | |
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124
tremors
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| 震颤( tremor的名词复数 )； 战栗； 震颤声； 大地的轻微震动 | |
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125
confided
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| v.吐露（秘密，心事等）( confide的过去式和过去分词 )；（向某人）吐露（隐私、秘密等） | |
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126
confrontation
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| n.对抗，对峙，冲突 | |
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127
radiator
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| n.暖气片，散热器 | |
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128
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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129
bonnet
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| n.无边女帽；童帽 | |
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130
liars
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| 说谎者( liar的名词复数 ) | |
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131
wrestled
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| v.（与某人）搏斗( wrestle的过去式和过去分词 )；扭成一团；扭打；（与…）摔跤 | |
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132
hips
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| abbr.high impact polystyrene 高冲击强度聚苯乙烯，耐冲性聚苯乙烯n.臀部( hip的名词复数 )；[建筑学]屋脊；臀围（尺寸）；臀部…的 | |
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