Oliver Twist 雾都孤儿 - Chapter 37
时间：2016-04-05 05:05:04
（单词翻译:单击）
Mr. Bumble sat in the workhouse parlour, with his eyes moodily1 fixed2 on the cheerless grate, whence, as it was summer time, no brighter gleam proceeded, than the reflection of certain sickly rays of the sun, which were sent back from its cold and shining surface.
A paper fly-cage dangled3 from the ceiling, to which he occasionally raised his eyes in gloomy thought; and, as the heedless insects hovered4 round the gaudy5 net-work, Mr. Bumble would heave a deep sigh, while a more gloomy shadow overspread his countenance6.
Mr. Bumble was meditating7; it might be that the insects brought to mind, some painful passage in his own past life. Nor was Mr. Bumble's gloom the only thing calculated to awaken8 a pleasing melancholy9 in the bosom10 of a spectator. There were not wanting other appearances, and those closely connected with his own person, which announced that a great change had taken place in the position of his affairs.
The laced coat, and the cocked hat; where were they?
He still wore knee-breeches, and dark cotton stockings on his nether11 limbs; but they were not _the_ breeches.
The coat was wide-skirted; and in that respect like _the_ coat, but, oh how different!
Mr. Bumble was no longer a beadle. There are some promotions13 in life, which, independent of the more substantial rewards they offer, require peculiar14 value and dignity from the coats and waistcoats connected with them.
A field-marshal has his uniform; a bishop16 his silk apron17; a counsellor his silk gown; a beadle his cocked hat.
Strip the bishop of his apron, or the beadle of his hat and lace; what are they?
Men.
Dignity, and even holiness too, sometimes, are more questions of coat and waistcoat than some people imagine. Mr. Bumble had married Mrs. Corney, and was master of the workhouse.
Another beadle had come into power.
On him the cocked hat, gold-laced coat, and staff, had all three descended19. 'And to-morrow two months it was done!' said Mr. Bumble, with a sigh.
'It seems a age.' Mr. Bumble might have meant that he had concentrated a whole existence of happiness into the short space of eight weeks; but the sigh--there was a vast deal of meaning in the sigh. 'I sold myself,' said Mr. Bumble, pursuing the same train of relection, 'for six teaspoons20, a pair of sugar-tongs, and a milk-pot; with a small quantity of second-hand21 furniture, and twenty pound in money.
I went very reasonable.
Cheap, dirt cheap!' 'Cheap!' cried a shrill22 voice in Mr. Bumble's ear: 'you would have been dear at any price; and dear enough I paid for you, Lord above knows that!' Mr. Bumble turned, and encountered the face of his interesting consort23, who, imperfectly comprehending the few words she had overheard of his complaint, had hazarded the foregoing remark at a venture. 'Mrs. Bumble, ma'am!' said Mr. Bumble, with a sentimental24 sternness. 'Well!' cried the lady. 'Have the goodness to look at me,' said Mr. Bumble, fixing his eyes upon her.
(If she stands such a eye as that,' said Mr. Bumble to himself, 'she can stand anything.
If it fails with her, my power is gone.') Whether an exceedingly small expansion of eye be sufficient to quell26 paupers, who, being lightly fed, are in no very high condition; or whether the late Mrs. Corney was particularly proof against eagle glances; are matters of opinion.
The matter of fact, is, that the matron was in no way overpowered by Mr. Bumble's scowl27, but, on the contrary, treated it with great disdain28, and even raised a laugh thereat, which sounded as though it were genuine. On hearing this most unexpected sound, Mr. Bumble looked, first incredulous, and afterwards amazed.
He then relapsed into his former state; nor did he rouse himself until his attention was again awakened29 by the voice of his partner. 'Are you going to sit snoring there, all day?' inquired Mrs. Bumble. 'I am going to sit here, as long as I think proper, ma'am,' rejoined Mr. Bumble; 'and although I was _not_ snoring, I shall snore, gape30, sneeze, laugh, or cry, as the humour strikes me; such being my prerogative31.' '_Your_ prerogative!' sneered32 Mrs. Bumble, with ineffable33 contempt. 'I said the word, ma'am,' said Mr. Bumble.
'The prerogative of a man is to command.' 'And what's the prerogative of a woman, in the name of Goodness?' cried the relict of Mr. Corney deceased. 'To obey, ma'am,' thundered Mr. Bumble.
'Your late unfortunate husband should have taught it you; and then, perhaps, he might have been alive now.
I wish he was, poor man!' Mrs. Bumble, seeing at a glance, that the decisive moment had now arrived, and that a blow struck for the mastership on one side or other, must necessarily be final and conclusive34, no sooner heard this allusion35 to the dead and gone, than she dropped into a chair, and with a loud scream that Mr. Bumble was a hard-hearted brute36, fell into a paroxysm of tears. But, tears were not the things to find their way to Mr. Bumble's soul; his heart was waterproof37.
Like washable beaver38 hats that improve with rain, his nerves were rendered stouter39 and more vigorous, by showers of tears, which, being tokens of weakness, and so far tacit admissions of his own power, pleased and exalted40 him.
He eyed his good lady with looks of great satisfaction, and begged, in an encouraging manner, that she should cry her hardest:
the exercise being looked upon, by the faculty41, as strongly conducive42 to health. 'It opens the lungs, washes the countenance, exercises the eyes, and softens43 down the temper,' said Mr. Bumble.
'So cry away.' As he discharged himself of this pleasantry, Mr. Bumble took his hat from a peg44, and putting it on, rather rakishly, on one side, as a man might, who felt he had asserted his superiority in a becoming manner, thrust his hands into his pockets, and sauntered towards the door, with much ease and waggishness45 depicted46 in his whole appearance. Now, Mrs. Corney that was, had tried the tears, because they were less troublesome than a manual assault; but, she was quite prepared to make trial of the latter mode of proceeding47, as Mr. Bumble was not long in discovering. The first proof he experienced of the fact, was conveyed in a hollow sound, immediately succeeded by the sudden flying off of his hat to the opposite end of the room.
This preliminary proceeding laying bare his head, the expert lady, clasping him tightly round the throat with one hand, inflicted48 a shower of blows (dealt with singular vigour49 and dexterity) upon it with the other.
This done, she created a little variety by scratching his face, and tearing his hair; and, having, by this time, inflicted as much punishment as she deemed necessary for the offence, she pushed him over a chair, which was luckily well situated50 for the purpose:
and defied him to talk about his prerogative again, if he dared. 'Get up!' said Mrs. Bumble, in a voice of command.
'And take yourself away from here, unless you want me to do something desperate.' Mr. Bumble rose with a very rueful countenance:
wondering much what something desperate might be.
Picking up his hat, he looked towards the door. 'Are you going?' demanded Mrs. Bumble. 'Certainly, my dear, certainly,' rejoined Mr. Bumble, making a quicker motion towards the door.
'I didn't intend to--I'm going, my dear!
You are so very violent, that really I--' At this instant, Mrs. Bumble stepped hastily forward to replace the carpet, which had been kicked up in the scuffle.
Mr. Bumble immediately darted51 out of the room, without bestowing52 another thought on his unfinished sentence:
leaving the late Mrs. Corney in full possession of the field. Mr. Bumble was fairly taken by surprise, and fairly beaten.
derived56 no inconsiderable pleasure from the exercise of petty cruelty; and, consequently, was (it is needless to say) a coward.
This is by no means a disparagement57 to his character; for many official personages, who are held in high respect and admiration58, are the victims of similar infirmities.
The remark is made, indeed, rather in his favour than otherwise, and with a view of impressing the reader with a just sense of his qualifications for office. But, the measure of his degradation59 was not yet full.
After making a tour of the house, and thinking, for the first time, that the poor-laws really were too hard on people; and that men who ran away from their wives, leaving them chargeable to the parish, ought, in justice to be visited with no punishment at all, but rather rewarded as meritorious60 individuals who had suffered much; Mr. Bumble came to a room where some of the female paupers were usually employed in washing the parish linen:
when the sound of voices in conversation, now proceeded. 'Hem15!' said Mr. Bumble, summoning up all his native dignity. 'These women at least shall continue to respect the prerogative. Hallo! hallo there!
What do you mean by this noise, you hussies?' With these words, Mr. Bumble opened the door, and walked in with a very fierce and angry manner:
which was at once exchanged for a most humiliated61 and cowering62 air, as his eyes unexpectedly rested on the form of his lady wife. 'My dear,' said Mr. Bumble, 'I didn't know you were here.' 'Didn't know I was here!' repeated Mrs. Bumble.
'What do _you_ do here?' 'I thought they were talking rather too much to be doing their work properly, my dear,' replied Mr. Bumble:
glancing distractedly at a couple of old women at the wash-tub, who were comparing notes of admiration at the workhouse-master's humility63. '_You_ thought they were talking too much?' said Mrs. Bumble. 'What business is it of yours?' 'Why, my dear--' urged Mr. Bumble submissively. 'What business is it of yours?' demanded Mrs. Bumble, again. 'It's very true, you're matron here, my dear,' submitted Mr. Bumble; 'but I thought you mightn't be in the way just then.' 'I'll tell you what, Mr. Bumble,' returned his lady.
'We don't want any of your interference.
You're a great deal too fond of poking64 your nose into things that don't concern you, making everybody in the house laugh, the moment your back is turned, and making yourself look like a fool every hour in the day.
Be off; come!' Mr. Bumble, seeing with excruciating feelings, the delight of the two old paupers, who were tittering together most rapturously, hesitated for an instant.
Mrs. Bumble, whose patience brooked65 no delay, caught up a bowl of soap-suds, and motioning him towards the door, ordered him instantly to depart, on pain of receiving the contents upon his portly person. What could Mr. Bumble do?
He looked dejectedly round, and slunk away; and, as he reached the door, the titterings of the paupers broke into a shrill chuckle66 of irrepressible delight.
It wanted but this.
He was degraded in their eyes; he had lost caste and station before the very paupers; he had fallen from all the height and pomp of beadleship, to the lowest depth of the most snubbed hen-peckery. 'All in two months!' said Mr. Bumble, filled with dismal67 thoughts.
'Two months!
No more than two months ago, I was not only my own master, but everybody else's, so far as the porochial workhouse was concerned, and now!--' It was too much.
Mr. Bumble boxed the ears of the boy who opened the gate for him (for he had reached the portal in his reverie); and walked, distractedly, into the street. He walked up one street, and down another, until exercise had abated68 the first passion of his grief; and then the revulsion of feeling made him thirsty.
He passed a great many public-houses; but, at length paused before one in a by-way, whose parlour, as he gathered from a hasty peep over the blinds, was deserted69, save by one solitary70 customer.
It began to rain, heavily, at the moment.
This determined71 him.
Mr. Bumble stepped in; and ordering something to drink, as he passed the bar, entered the apartment into which he had looked from the street. The man who was seated there, was tall and dark, and wore a large cloak.
He had the air of a stranger; and seemed, by a certain haggardness in his look, as well as by the dusty soils on his dress, to have travelled some distance.
He eyed Bumble askance, as he entered, but scarcely deigned72 to nod his head in acknowledgment of his salutation. Mr. Bumble had quite dignity enough for two; supposing even that the stranger had been more familiar:
so he drank his gin-and-water in silence, and read the paper with great show of pomp and circumstance. It so happened, however: as it will happen very often, when men fall into company under such circumstances:
that Mr. Bumble felt, every now and then, a powerful inducement, which he could not resist, to steal a look at the stranger:
and that whenever he did so, he withdrew his eyes, in some confusion, to find that the stranger was at that moment stealing a look at him.
Mr. Bumble's awkwardness was enhanced by the very remarkable73 expression of the stranger's eye, which was keen and bright, but shadowed by a scowl of distrust and suspicion, unlike anything he had ever observed before, and repulsive74 to behold75. When they had encountered each other's glance several times in this way, the stranger, in a harsh, deep voice, broke silence. 'Were you looking for me,' he said, 'when you peered in at the window?' 'Not that I am aware of, unless you're Mr. --'
Here Mr. Bumble stopped short; for he was curious to know the stranger's name, and thought in his impatience76, he might supply the blank. 'I see you were not,' said the stranger; an expression of quiet sarcasm77 playing about his mouth; 'or you have known my name.
You don't know it.
I would recommend you not to ask for it.' 'I meant no harm, young man,' observed Mr. Bumble, majestically78. 'And have done none,' said the stranger. Another silence succeeded this short dialogue:
which was again broken by the stranger. 'I have seen you before, I think?' said he.
'You were differently dressed at that time, and I only passed you in the street, but I should know you again.
You were beadle here, once; were you not?' 'I was,' said Mr. Bumble, in some surprise; 'porochial beadle.' 'Just so,' rejoined the other, nodding his head.
'It was in that character I saw you.
What are you now?' 'Master of the workhouse,' rejoined Mr. Bumble, slowly and impressively, to check any undue79 familiarity the stranger might otherwise assume.
'Master of the workhouse, young man!' 'You have the same eye to your own interest, that you always had, I doubt not?' resumed the stranger, looking keenly into Mr. Bumble's eyes, as he raised them in astonishment80 at the question. 'Don't scruple81 to answer freely, man.
I know you pretty well, you see.' 'I suppose, a married man,' replied Mr. Bumble, shading his eyes with his hand, and surveying the stranger, from head to foot, in evident perplexity, 'is not more averse82 to turning an honest penny when he can, than a single one.
Porochial officers are not so well paid that they can afford to refuse any little extra fee, when it comes to them in a civil and proper manner.' The stranger smiled, and nodded his head again: as much to say, he had not mistaken his man; then rang the bell. 'Fill this glass again,' he said, handing Mr. Bumble's empty tumbler to the landlord.
'Let it be strong and hot.
You like it so, I suppose?' 'Not too strong,' replied Mr. Bumble, with a delicate cough. 'You understand what that means, landlord!' said the stranger, drily. The host smiled, disappeared, and shortly afterwards returned with a steaming jorum: of which, the first gulp83 brought the water into Mr. Bumble's eyes. 'Now listen to me,' said the stranger, after closing the door and window.
'I came down to this place, to-day, to find you out; and, by one of those chances which the devil throws in the way of his friends sometimes, you walked into the very room I was sitting in, while you were uppermost in my mind.
I want some information from you.
I don't ask you to give it for nothing, slight as it is.
Put up that, to begin with.' As he spoke84, he pushed a couple of sovereigns across the table to his companion, carefully, as though unwilling85 that the chinking of money should be heard without.
When Mr. Bumble had scrupulously86 examined the coins, to see that they were genuine, and had put them up, with much satisfaction, in his waistcoat-pocket, he went on: 'Carry your memory back--let me see--twelve years, last winter.' 'It's a long time,' said Mr. Bumble.
'Very good.
I've done it.' 'The scene, the workhouse.' 'Good!' 'And the time, night.' 'Yes.' 'And the place, the crazy hole, wherever it was, in which miserable87 drabs brought forth88 the life and health so often denied to themselves--gave birth to puling children for the parish to rear; and hid their shame, rot 'em in the grave!' 'The lying-in room, I suppose?' said Mr. Bumble, not quite following the stranger's excited description. 'Yes,' said the stranger.
'A boy was born there.' 'A many boys,' observed Mr. Bumble, shaking his head, despondingly. 'A murrain on the young devils!' cried the stranger; 'I speak of one; a meek-looking, pale-faced boy, who was apprenticed89 down here, to a coffin90-maker--I wish he had made his coffin, and screwed his body in it--and who afterwards ran away to London, as it was supposed. 'Why, you mean Oliver!
Young Twist!' said Mr. Bumble; 'I remember him, of course.
There wasn't a obstinater young rascal--' 'It's not of him I want to hear; I've heard enough of him,' said the stranger, stopping Mr. Bumble in the outset of a tirade91 on the subject of poor Oliver's vices92.
'It's of a woman; the hag that nursed his mother.
'It would be hard to tell.
There's no midwifery there, whichever place she's gone to; so I suppose she's out of employment, anyway.' 'What do you mean?' demanded the stranger, sternly. 'That she died last winter,' rejoined Mr. Bumble. The man looked fixedly94 at him when he had given this information, and although he did not withdraw his eyes for some time afterwards, his gaze gradually became vacant and abstracted, and he seemed lost in thought.
For some time, he appeared doubtful whether he ought to be relieved or disappointed by the intelligence; but at length he breathed more freely; and withdrawing his eyes, observed that it was no great matter. With that he rose, as if to depart. But Mr. Bumble was cunning enough; and he at once saw that an opportunity was opened, for the lucrative95 disposal of some secret in the possession of his better half.
He well remembered the night of old Sally's death, which the occurrences of that day had given him good reason to recollect96, as the occasion on which he had proposed to Mrs. Corney; and although that lady had never confided97 to him the disclosure of which she had been the solitary witness, he had heard enough to know that it related to something that had occurred in the old woman's attendance, as workhouse nurse, upon the young mother of Oliver Twist.
Hastily calling this circumstance to mind, he informed the stranger, with an air of mystery, that one woman had been closeted with the old harridan98 shortly before she died; and that she could, as he had reason to believe, throw some light on the subject of his inquiry99. 'How can I find her?' said the stranger, thrown off his guard; and plainly showing that all his fears (whatever they were) were aroused afresh by the intelligence. 'Only through me,' rejoined Mr. Bumble. 'When?' cried the stranger, hastily. 'To-morrow,' rejoined Bumble. 'At nine in the evening,' said the stranger, producing a scrap100 of paper, and writing down upon it, an obscure address by the water-side, in characters that betrayed his agitation101; 'at nine in the evening, bring her to me there.
I needn't tell you to be secret.
It's your interest.' With these words, he led the way to the door, after stopping to pay for the liquor that had been drunk.
Shortly remarking that their roads were different, he departed, without more ceremony than an emphatic102 repetition of the hour of appointment for the following night. On glancing at the address, the parochial functionary103 observed that it contained no name.
The stranger had not gone far, so he made after him to ask it. 'What do you want?' cried the man, turning quickly round, as Bumble touched him on the arm.
'Following me?' 'Only to ask a question,' said the other, pointing to the scrap of paper.
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1
moodily
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| adv.喜怒无常地；情绪多变地；心情不稳地；易生气地 | |
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2
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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3
dangled
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| 悬吊着( dangle的过去式和过去分词 )； 摆动不定； 用某事物诱惑…； 吊胃口 | |
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4
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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5
gaudy
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| adj.华而不实的；俗丽的 | |
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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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7
meditating
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| a.沉思的，冥想的 | |
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8
awaken
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| vi.醒，觉醒；vt.唤醒，使觉醒，唤起，激起 | |
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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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10
bosom
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| n.胸，胸部；胸怀；内心；adj.亲密的 | |
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11
nether
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| adj.下部的，下面的；n.阴间；下层社会 | |
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12
mighty
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| adj.强有力的；巨大的 | |
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13
promotions
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| 促进( promotion的名词复数 )； 提升； 推广； 宣传 | |
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peculiar
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| adj.古怪的，异常的；特殊的，特有的 | |
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15
hem
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| n.贴边，镶边；vt.缝贴边；(in)包围，限制 | |
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16
bishop
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| n.主教，（国际象棋）象 | |
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apron
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| n.围裙；工作裙 | |
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18
mere
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| adj.纯粹的；仅仅，只不过 | |
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19
descended
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| a.为...后裔的，出身于...的 | |
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20
teaspoons
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| n.茶匙( teaspoon的名词复数 )；一茶匙的量 | |
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21
second-hand
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| adj.用过的，旧的，二手的 | |
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22
shrill
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| adj.尖声的；刺耳的；v尖叫 | |
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consort
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| v.相伴；结交 | |
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sentimental
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| adj.多愁善感的，感伤的 | |
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paupers
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| n.穷人( pauper的名词复数 )；贫民；贫穷 | |
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quell
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| v.压制，平息，减轻 | |
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27
scowl
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| vi.(at)生气地皱眉，沉下脸，怒视；n.怒容 | |
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28
disdain
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| n.鄙视，轻视；v.轻视，鄙视，不屑 | |
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29
awakened
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| v.（使）醒( awaken的过去式和过去分词 )；（使）觉醒；弄醒；（使）意识到 | |
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30
gape
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| v.张口，打呵欠，目瞪口呆地凝视 | |
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31
prerogative
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| n.特权 | |
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sneered
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| 讥笑，冷笑( sneer的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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ineffable
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| adj.无法表达的，不可言喻的 | |
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conclusive
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| adj.最后的，结论的；确凿的，消除怀疑的 | |
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allusion
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| n.暗示，间接提示 | |
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brute
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| n.野兽，兽性 | |
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37
waterproof
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| n.防水材料；adj.防水的；v.使...能防水 | |
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38
beaver
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| n.海狸，河狸 | |
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stouter
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| 粗壮的( stout的比较级 )； 结实的； 坚固的； 坚定的 | |
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40
exalted
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| adj.(地位等)高的，崇高的；尊贵的，高尚的 | |
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41
faculty
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| n.才能；学院，系；(学院或系的)全体教学人员 | |
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42
conducive
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| adj.有益的，有助的 | |
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43
softens
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| （使）变软( soften的第三人称单数 )； 缓解打击； 缓和； 安慰 | |
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44
peg
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| n.木栓，木钉；vt.用木钉钉，用短桩固定 | |
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45
waggishness
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46
depicted
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| 描绘，描画( depict的过去式和过去分词 )； 描述 | |
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47
proceeding
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| n.行动，进行，(pl.)会议录，学报 | |
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48
inflicted
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| 把…强加给，使承受，遭受( inflict的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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49
vigour
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| （=vigor）n.智力，体力，精力 | |
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50
situated
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| adj.坐落在...的，处于某种境地的 | |
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51
darted
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| v.投掷，投射( dart的过去式和过去分词 )；向前冲，飞奔 | |
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bestowing
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| 砖窑中砖堆上层已烧透的砖 | |
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decided
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| adj.决定了的，坚决的；明显的，明确的 | |
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54
propensity
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| n.倾向；习性 | |
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bullying
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| v.恐吓，威逼( bully的现在分词 )；豪；跋扈 | |
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56
derived
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| vi.起源；由来；衍生；导出v.得到( derive的过去式和过去分词 )；（从…中）得到获得；源于；（从…中）提取 | |
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57
disparagement
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| n.轻视，轻蔑 | |
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58
admiration
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| n.钦佩，赞美，羡慕 | |
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59
degradation
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| n.降级；低落；退化；陵削；降解；衰变 | |
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60
meritorious
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| adj.值得赞赏的 | |
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61
humiliated
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| 感到羞愧的 | |
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62
cowering
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| v.畏缩，抖缩( cower的现在分词 ) | |
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63
humility
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| n.谦逊，谦恭 | |
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64
poking
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| n. 刺，戳，袋 vt. 拨开，刺，戳 vi. 戳，刺，捅，搜索，伸出，行动散慢 | |
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brooked
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| 容忍，忍受（brook的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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66
chuckle
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| vi.／n.轻声笑，咯咯笑 | |
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dismal
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| adj.阴沉的，凄凉的，令人忧郁的，差劲的 | |
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abated
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| 减少( abate的过去式和过去分词 )； 减去； 降价； 撤消（诉讼） | |
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deserted
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| adj.荒芜的，荒废的，无人的，被遗弃的 | |
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solitary
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| adj.孤独的，独立的，荒凉的；n.隐士 | |
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71
determined
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| adj.坚定的；有决心的 | |
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72
deigned
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| v.屈尊，俯就( deign的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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73
remarkable
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| adj.显著的，异常的，非凡的，值得注意的 | |
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74
repulsive
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| adj.排斥的，使人反感的 | |
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75
behold
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| v.看，注视，看到 | |
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76
impatience
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| n.不耐烦，急躁 | |
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77
sarcasm
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| n.讥讽，讽刺，嘲弄，反话 （adj.sarcastic） | |
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majestically
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| 雄伟地； 庄重地； 威严地； 崇高地 | |
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79
undue
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| adj.过分的；不适当的；未到期的 | |
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80
astonishment
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| n.惊奇，惊异 | |
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81
scruple
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| n./v.顾忌，迟疑 | |
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82
averse
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| adj.厌恶的；反对的，不乐意的 | |
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83
gulp
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| vt.吞咽，大口地吸（气）；vi.哽住；n.吞咽 | |
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84
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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85
unwilling
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| adj.不情愿的 | |
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86
scrupulously
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| adv.一丝不苟地；小心翼翼地，多顾虑地 | |
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miserable
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| adj.悲惨的，痛苦的；可怜的，糟糕的 | |
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88
forth
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| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
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89
apprenticed
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| 学徒，徒弟( apprentice的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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90
coffin
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| n.棺材，灵柩 | |
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91
tirade
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| n.冗长的攻击性演说 | |
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92
vices
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| 缺陷( vice的名词复数 )； 恶习； 不道德行为； 台钳 | |
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93
facetious
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| adj.轻浮的，好开玩笑的 | |
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94
fixedly
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| adv.固定地；不屈地，坚定不移地 | |
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95
lucrative
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| adj.赚钱的，可获利的 | |
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96
recollect
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| v.回忆，想起，记起，忆起，记得 | |
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97
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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98
harridan
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| n.恶妇；丑老大婆 | |
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99
inquiry
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| n.打听，询问，调查，查问 | |
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100
scrap
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| n.碎片；废料；v.废弃，报废 | |
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101
agitation
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| n.搅动；搅拌；鼓动，煽动 | |
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102
emphatic
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| adj.强调的，着重的；无可置疑的，明显的 | |
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103
functionary
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| n.官员；公职人员 | |
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104
monks
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| n.修道士，僧侣( monk的名词复数 ) | |
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