We have just been treated to a lecture, a good quarter of an hour long, from Challenger, who was so excited that he roared and bellowed6 as if he were addressing his old rows of scientific sceptics in the Queen’s Hall. He had certainly a strange audience to harangue8: his wife perfectly9 acquiescent11 and absolutely ignorant of his meaning, Summerlee seated in the shadow, querulous and critical but interested, Lord John lounging in a corner somewhat bored by the whole proceeding12, and myself beside the window watching the scene with a kind of detached attention, as if it were all a dream or something in which I had no personal interest whatever. Challenger sat at the centre table with the electric light illuminating13 the slide under the microscope which he had brought from his dressing7 room. The small vivid circle of white light from the mirror left half of his rugged14, bearded face in brilliant radiance and half in deepest shadow. He had, it seems, been working of late upon the lowest forms of life, and what excited him at the present moment was that in the microscopic15 slide made up the day before he found the amoeba to be still alive.
“You can see it for yourselves,” he kept repeating in great excitement. “Summerlee, will you step across and satisfy yourself upon the point? Malone, will you kindly16 verify what I say? The little spindle-shaped things in the centre are diatoms and may be disregarded since they are probably vegetable rather than animal. But the right-hand side you will see an undoubted amoeba, moving sluggishly17 across the field. The upper screw is the fine adjustment. Look at it for yourselves.”
Summerlee did so and acquiesced18. So did I and perceived a little creature which looked as if it were made of ground glass flowing in a sticky way across the lighted circle. Lord John was prepared to take him on trust.
“I’m not troublin’ my head whether he’s alive or dead,” said he. “We don’t so much as know each other by sight, so why should I take it to heart? I don’t suppose he’s worryin’ himself over the state of our health.”
I laughed at this, and Challenger looked in my direction with his coldest and most supercilious19 stare. It was a most petrifying20 experience.
“The flippancy21 of the half-educated is more obstructive to science than the obtuseness22 of the ignorant,” said he. “If Lord John Roxton would condescend23 ——”
“My dear George, don’t be so peppery,” said his wife, with her hand on the black mane that drooped24 over the microscope. “What can it matter whether the amoeba is alive or not?”
“It matters a great deal,” said Challenger gruffly.
“Well, let’s hear about it,” said Lord John with a good-humoured smile. “We may as well talk about that as anything else. If you think I’ve been too off-hand with the thing, or hurt its feelin’s in any way, I’ll apologize.”
“For my part,” remarked Summerlee in his creaky, argumentative voice, “I can’t see why you should attach such importance to the creature being alive. It is in the same atmosphere as ourselves, so naturally the poison does not act upon it. If it were outside of this room it would be dead, like all other animal life.”
“Your remarks, my good Summerlee,” said Challenger with enormous condescension25 (oh, if I could paint that over-bearing, arrogant26 face in the vivid circle of reflection from the microscope mirror!)—“your remarks show that you imperfectly appreciate the situation. This specimen27 was mounted yesterday and is hermetically sealed. None of our oxygen can reach it. But the ether, of course, has penetrated28 to it, as to every other point upon the universe. Therefore, it has survived the poison. Hence, we may argue that every amoeba outside this room, instead of being dead, as you have erroneously stated, has really survived the catastrophe.”
“Well, even now I don’t feel inclined to hip-hurrah about it,” said Lord John. “What does it matter?”
“It just matters this, that the world is a living instead of a dead one. If you had the scientific imagination, you would cast your mind forward from this one fact, and you would see some few millions of years hence — a mere29 passing moment in the enormous flux30 of the ages — the whole world teeming31 once more with the animal and human life which will spring from this tiny root. You have seen a prairie fire where the flames have swept every trace of grass or plant from the surface of the earth and left only a blackened waste. You would think that it must be forever desert. Yet the roots of growth have been left behind, and when you pass the place a few years hence you can no longer tell where the black scars used to be. Here in this tiny creature are the roots of growth of the animal world, and by its inherent development, and evolution, it will surely in time remove every trace of this incomparable crisis in which we are now involved.”
“Dooced interestin’!” said Lord John, lounging across and looking through the microscope. “Funny little chap to hang number one among the family portraits. Got a fine big shirt-stud on him!”
“The dark object is his nucleus,” said Challenger with the air of a nurse teaching letters to a baby.
“Well, we needn’t feel lonely,” said Lord John laughing. “There’s somebody livin’ besides us on the earth.”
“You seem to take it for granted, Challenger,” said Summerlee, “that the object for which this world was created was that it should produce and sustain human life.”
“Well, sir, and what object do you suggest?” asked Challenger, bristling32 at the least hint of contradiction.
“Sometimes I think that it is only the monstrous33 conceit34 of mankind which makes him think that all this stage was erected35 for him to strut36 upon.”
“We cannot be dogmatic about it, but at least without what you have ventured to call monstrous conceit we can surely say that we are the highest thing in nature.”
“The highest of which we have cognizance.”
“That, sir, goes without saying.”
“Think of all the millions and possibly billions of years that the earth swung empty through space — or, if not empty, at least without a sign or thought of the human race. Think of it, washed by the rain and scorched37 by the sun and swept by the wind for those unnumbered ages. Man only came into being yesterday so far as geological times goes. Why, then, should it be taken for granted that all this stupendous preparation was for his benefit?”
“For whose then — or for what?”
Summerlee shrugged39 his shoulders.
“How can we tell? For some reason altogether beyond our conception — and man may have been a mere accident, a by-product40 evolved in the process. It is as if the scum upon the surface of the ocean imagined that the ocean was created in order to produce and sustain it or a mouse in a cathedral thought that the building was its own proper ordained41 residence.”
I have jotted42 down the very words of their argument, but now it degenerates43 into a mere noisy wrangle44 with much polysyllabic scientific jargon45 upon each side. It is no doubt a privilege to hear two such brains discuss the highest questions; but as they are in perpetual disagreement, plain folk like Lord John and I get little that is positive from the exhibition. They neutralize46 each other and we are left as they found us. Now the hubbub47 has ceased, and Summerlee is coiled up in his chair, while Challenger, still fingering the screws of his microscope, is keeping up a continual low, deep, inarticulate growl48 like the sea after a storm. Lord John comes over to me, and we look out together into the night.
There is a pale new moon — the last moon that human eyes will ever rest upon — and the stars are most brilliant. Even in the clear plateau air of South America I have never seen them brighter. Possibly this etheric change has some effect upon light. The funeral pyre of Brighton is still blazing, and there is a very distant patch of scarlet49 in the western sky, which may mean trouble at Arundel or Chichester, possibly even at Portsmouth. I sit and muse50 and make an occasional note. There is a sweet melancholy51 in the air. Youth and beauty and chivalry52 and love — is this to be the end of it all? The starlit earth looks a dreamland of gentle peace. Who would imagine it as the terrible Golgotha strewn with the bodies of the human race? Suddenly, I find myself laughing.
“Halloa, young fellah!” says Lord John, staring at me in surprise. “We could do with a joke in these hard times. What was it, then?”
“I was thinking of all the great unsolved questions,” I answer, “the questions that we spent so much labor53 and thought over. Think of Anglo-German competition, for example — or the Persian Gulf54 that my old chief was so keen about. Whoever would have guessed, when we fumed55 and fretted56 so, how they were to be eventually solved?”
We fall into silence again. I fancy that each of us is thinking of friends that have gone before. Mrs. Challenger is sobbing57 quietly, and her husband is whispering to her. My mind turns to all the most unlikely people, and I see each of them lying white and rigid58 as poor Austin does in the yard. There is McArdle, for example, I know exactly where he is, with his face upon his writing desk and his hand on his own telephone, just as I heard him fall. Beaumont, the editor, too — I suppose he is lying upon the blue-and-red Turkey carpet which adorned59 his sanctum. And the fellows in the reporters’ room — Macdona and Murray and Bond. They had certainly died hard at work on their job, with note-books full of vivid impressions and strange happenings in their hands. I could just imagine how this one would have been packed off to the doctors, and that other to Westminster, and yet a third to St. Paul’s. What glorious rows of head-lines they must have seen as a last vision beautiful, never destined60 to materialize in printer’s ink! I could see Macdona among the doctors —“Hope in Harley Street”— Mac had always a weakness for alliteration61. “Interview with Mr. Soley Wilson.” “Famous Specialist says ‘Never despair!’” “Our Special Correspondent found the eminent62 scientist seated upon the roof, whither he had retreated to avoid the crowd of terrified patients who had stormed his dwelling63. With a manner which plainly showed his appreciation64 of the immense gravity of the occasion, the celebrated65 physician refused to admit that every avenue of hope had been closed.” That’s how Mac would start. Then there was Bond; he would probably do St. Paul’s. He fancied his own literary touch. My word, what a theme for him! “Standing in the little gallery under the dome66 and looking down upon that packed mass of despairing humanity, groveling at this last instant before a Power which they had so persistently67 ignored, there rose to my ears from the swaying crowd such a low moan of entreaty68 and terror, such a shuddering69 cry for help to the Unknown, that ——” and so forth.
Yes, it would be a great end for a reporter, though, like myself, he would die with the treasures still unused. What would Bond not give, poor chap, to see “J. H. B.” at the foot of a column like that?
But what drivel I am writing! It is just an attempt to pass the weary time. Mrs. Challenger has gone to the inner dressing-room, and the Professor says that she is asleep. He is making notes and consulting books at the central table, as calmly as if years of placid70 work lay before him. He writes with a very noisy quill71 pen which seems to be screeching72 scorn at all who disagree with him.
Summerlee has dropped off in his chair and gives from time to time a peculiarly exasperating73 snore. Lord John lies back with his hands in his pockets and his eyes closed. How people can sleep under such conditions is more than I can imagine.
Three-thirty a.m. I have just wakened with a start. It was five minutes past eleven when I made my last entry. I remember winding74 up my watch and noting the time. So I have wasted some five hours of the little span still left to us. Who would have believed it possible? But I feel very much fresher, and ready for my fate — or try to persuade myself that I am. And yet, the fitter a man is, and the higher his tide of life, the more must he shrink from death. How wise and how merciful is that provision of nature by which his earthly anchor is usually loosened by many little imperceptible tugs75, until his consciousness has drifted out of its untenable earthly harbor into the great sea beyond!
Mrs. Challenger is still in the dressing room. Challenger has fallen asleep in his chair. What a picture! His enormous frame leans back, his huge, hairy hands are clasped across his waistcoat, and his head is so tilted76 that I can see nothing above his collar save a tangled77 bristle78 of luxuriant beard. He shakes with the vibration79 of his own snoring. Summerlee adds his occasional high tenor80 to Challenger’s sonorous81 bass82. Lord John is sleeping also, his long body doubled up sideways in a basket-chair. The first cold light of dawn is just stealing into the room, and everything is grey and mournful.
I look out at the sunrise — that fateful sunrise which will shine upon an unpeopled world. The human race is gone, extinguished in a day, but the planets swing round and the tides rise or fall, and the wind whispers, and all nature goes her way, down, as it would seem, to the very amoeba, with never a sign that he who styled himself the lord of creation had ever blessed or cursed the universe with his presence. Down in the yard lies Austin with sprawling83 limbs, his face glimmering84 white in the dawn, and the hose nozzle still projecting from his dead hand. The whole of human kind is typified in that one half-ludicrous and half-pathetic figure, lying so helpless beside the machine which it used to control.
Here end the notes which I made at the time. Henceforward events were too swift and too poignant85 to allow me to write, but they are too clearly outlined in my memory that any detail could escape me.
Some chokiness in my throat made me look at the oxygen cylinders86, and I was startled at what I saw. The sands of our lives were running very low. At some period in the night Challenger had switched the tube from the third to the fourth cylinder87. Now it was clear that this also was nearly exhausted88. That horrible feeling of constriction89 was closing in upon me. I ran across and, unscrewing the nozzle, I changed it to our last supply. Even as I did so my conscience pricked90 me, for I felt that perhaps if I had held my hand all of them might have passed in their sleep. The thought was banished91, however, by the voice of the lady from the inner room crying:—
“George, George, I am stifling92!”
“It is all right, Mrs. Challenger,” I answered as the others started to their feet. “I have just turned on a fresh supply.”
Even at such a moment I could not help smiling at Challenger, who with a great hairy fist in each eye was like a huge, bearded baby, new wakened out of sleep. Summerlee was shivering like a man with the ague, human fears, as he realized his position, rising for an instant above the stoicism of the man of science. Lord John, however, was as cool and alert as if he had just been roused on a hunting morning.
“Fifthly and lastly,” said he, glancing at the tube. “Say, young fellah, don’t tell me you’ve been writin’ up your impressions in that paper on your knee.”
“Just a few notes to pass the time.”
“Well, I don’t believe anyone but an Irishman would have done that. I expect you’ll have to wait till little brother amoeba gets grown up before you’ll find a reader. He don’t seem to take much stock of things just at present. Well, Herr Professor, what are the prospects93?”
Challenger was looking out at the great drifts of morning mist which lay over the landscape. Here and there the wooded hills rose like conical islands out of this woolly sea.
“It might be a winding sheet,” said Mrs. Challenger, who had entered in her dressing-gown. “There’s that song of yours, George, ‘Ring out the old, ring in the new.’ It was prophetic. But you are shivering, my poor dear friends. I have been warm under a coverlet all night, and you cold in your chairs. But I’ll soon set you right.”
The brave little creature hurried away, and presently we heard the sizzling of a kettle. She was back soon with five steaming cups of cocoa upon a tray.
“Drink these,” said she. “You will feel so much better.”
And we did. Summerlee asked if he might light his pipe, and we all had cigarettes. It steadied our nerves, I think, but it was a mistake, for it made a dreadful atmosphere in that stuffy94 room. Challenger had to open the ventilator.
“How long, Challenger?” asked Lord John.
“Possibly three hours,” he answered with a shrug38.
“I used to be frightened,” said his wife. “But the nearer I get to it, the easier it seems. Don’t you think we ought to pray, George?”
“You will pray, dear, if you wish,” the big man answered, very gently. “We all have our own ways of praying. Mine is a complete acquiescence95 in whatever fate may send me — a cheerful acquiescence. The highest religion and the highest science seem to unite on that.”
“I cannot truthfully describe my mental attitude as acquiescence and far less cheerful acquiescence,” grumbled96 Summerlee over his pipe. “I submit because I have to. I confess that I should have liked another year of life to finish my classification of the chalk fossils.”
“Your unfinished work is a small thing,” said Challenger pompously97, “when weighed against the fact that my own magnum opus, ‘The Ladder of Life,’ is still in the first stages. My brain, my reading, my experience — in fact, my whole unique equipment — were to be condensed into that epoch-making volume. And yet, as I say, I acquiesce10.”
“I expect we’ve all left some loose ends stickin’ out,” said Lord John. “What are yours, young fellah?”
“I was working at a book of verses,” I answered.
“Well, the world has escaped that, anyhow,” said Lord John. “There’s always compensation somewhere if you grope around.”
“What about you?” I asked.
“Well, it just so happens that I was tidied up and ready. I’d promised Merivale to go to Tibet for a snow leopard98 in the spring. But it’s hard on you, Mrs. Challenger, when you have just built up this pretty home.”
“Where George is, there is my home. But, oh, what would I not give for one last walk together in the fresh morning air upon those beautiful downs!”
Our hearts re-echoed her words. The sun had burst through the gauzy mists which veiled it, and the whole broad Weald was washed in golden light. Sitting in our dark and poisonous atmosphere that glorious, clean, wind-swept countryside seemed a very dream of beauty. Mrs. Challenger held her hand stretched out to it in her longing99. We drew up chairs and sat in a semicircle in the window. The atmosphere was already very close. It seemed to me that the shadows of death were drawing in upon us — the last of our race. It was like an invisible curtain closing down upon every side.
“That cylinder is not lastin’ too well,” said Lord John with a long gasp100 for breath.
“The amount contained is variable,” said Challenger, “depending upon the pressure and care with which it has been bottled. I am inclined to agree with you, Roxton, that this one is defective101.”
“So we are to be cheated out of the last hour of our lives,” Summerlee remarked bitterly. “An excellent final illustration of the sordid102 age in which we have lived. Well, Challenger, now is your time if you wish to study the subjective103 phenomena104 of physical dissolution.”
“Sit on the stool at my knee and give me your hand,” said Challenger to his wife. “I think, my friends, that a further delay in this insufferable atmosphere is hardly advisable. You would not desire it, dear, would you?”
His wife gave a little groan105 and sank her face against his leg.
“I’ve seen the folk bathin’ in the Serpentine106 in winter,” said Lord John. “When the rest are in, you see one or two shiverin’ on the bank, envyin’ the others that have taken the plunge107. It’s the last that have the worst of it. I’m all for a header and have done with it.”
“You would open the window and face the ether?”
“Better be poisoned than stifled108.”
Summerlee nodded his reluctant acquiescence and held out his thin hand to Challenger.
“We’ve had our quarrels in our time, but that’s all over,” said he. “We were good friends and had a respect for each other under the surface. Good-by!”
“Good-by, young fellah!” said Lord John. “The window’s plastered up. You can’t open it.”
Challenger stooped and raised his wife, pressing her to his breast, while she threw her arms round his neck.
“Give me that field-glass, Malone,” said he gravely.
I handed it to him.
“Into the hands of the Power that made us we render ourselves again!” he shouted in his voice of thunder, and at the words he hurled109 the field-glass through the window.
Full in our flushed faces, before the last tinkle110 of falling fragments had died away, there came the wholesome111 breath of the wind, blowing strong and sweet.
I don’t know how long we sat in amazed silence. Then as in a dream, I heard Challenger’s voice once more.
“We are back in normal conditions,” he cried. “The world has cleared the poison belt, but we alone of all mankind are saved.”
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收听单词发音
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1
scribbled
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| v.潦草的书写( scribble的过去式和过去分词 )；乱画；草草地写；匆匆记下 | |
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marvels
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| n.奇迹( marvel的名词复数 )；令人惊奇的事物（或事例）；不平凡的成果；成就v.惊奇，对…感到惊奇( marvel的第三人称单数 ) | |
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forth
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| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
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luncheon
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| n.午宴，午餐，便宴 | |
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catastrophe
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| n.大灾难，大祸 | |
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6
bellowed
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| v.发出吼叫声，咆哮（尤指因痛苦）( bellow的过去式和过去分词 )；（愤怒地）说出（某事），大叫 | |
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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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harangue
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| n.慷慨冗长的训话，言辞激烈的讲话 | |
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perfectly
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| adv.完美地，无可非议地，彻底地 | |
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acquiesce
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| vi.默许，顺从，同意 | |
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acquiescent
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| adj.默许的，默认的 | |
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proceeding
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| n.行动，进行，(pl.)会议录，学报 | |
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illuminating
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| a.富于启发性的，有助阐明的 | |
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rugged
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| adj.高低不平的，粗糙的，粗壮的，强健的 | |
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microscopic
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| adj.微小的，细微的，极小的，显微的 | |
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kindly
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| adj.和蔼的，温和的，爽快的；adv.温和地，亲切地 | |
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sluggishly
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| adv.懒惰地；缓慢地 | |
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acquiesced
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| v.默认，默许( acquiesce的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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supercilious
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| adj.目中无人的，高傲的；adv.高傲地；n.高傲 | |
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petrifying
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| v.吓呆，使麻木( petrify的现在分词 )；使吓呆，使惊呆；僵化 | |
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21
flippancy
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| n.轻率；浮躁；无礼的行动 | |
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obtuseness
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| 感觉迟钝 | |
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condescend
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| v.俯就，屈尊；堕落，丢丑 | |
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drooped
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| 弯曲或下垂，发蔫( droop的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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condescension
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| n.自以为高人一等，贬低(别人) | |
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arrogant
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| adj.傲慢的，自大的 | |
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specimen
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| n.样本，标本 | |
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penetrated
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| adj. 击穿的，鞭辟入里的 动词penetrate的过去式和过去分词形式 | |
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mere
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| adj.纯粹的；仅仅，只不过 | |
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flux
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| n.流动；不断的改变 | |
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31
teeming
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| adj.丰富的v.充满( teem的现在分词 )；到处都是；（指水、雨等）暴降；倾注 | |
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bristling
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| a.竖立的 | |
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monstrous
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| adj.巨大的；恐怖的；可耻的，丢脸的 | |
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conceit
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| n.自负，自高自大 | |
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ERECTED
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| adj. 直立的，竖立的，笔直的 vt. 使 ... 直立，建立 | |
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strut
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| v.肿胀，鼓起；大摇大摆地走；炫耀；支撑；撑开；n.高视阔步；支柱，撑杆 | |
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scorched
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| 烧焦，烤焦( scorch的过去式和过去分词 )； 使（植物）枯萎，把…晒枯； 高速行驶； 枯焦 | |
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38
shrug
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| v.耸肩(表示怀疑、冷漠、不知等) | |
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shrugged
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| vt.耸肩（shrug的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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40
by-product
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| n.副产品，附带产生的结果 | |
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41
ordained
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| v.任命（某人）为牧师( ordain的过去式和过去分词 )；授予（某人）圣职；（上帝、法律等）命令；判定 | |
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42
jotted
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| v.匆忙记下( jot的过去式和过去分词 )；草草记下，匆匆记下 | |
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43
degenerates
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| 衰退，堕落，退化( degenerate的第三人称单数 ) | |
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44
wrangle
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| vi.争吵 | |
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45
jargon
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| n.术语，行话 | |
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46
neutralize
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| v.使失效、抵消，使中和 | |
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47
hubbub
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| n.嘈杂；骚乱 | |
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48
growl
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| v.（狗等）嗥叫，（炮等）轰鸣；n.嗥叫，轰鸣 | |
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scarlet
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| n.深红色，绯红色，红衣；adj.绯红色的 | |
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50
muse
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| n.缪斯（希腊神话中的女神），创作灵感 | |
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51
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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chivalry
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| n.骑士气概，侠义；（男人）对女人彬彬有礼，献殷勤 | |
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53
labor
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| n.劳动，努力，工作，劳工；分娩；vi.劳动，努力，苦干；vt.详细分析；麻烦 | |
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54
gulf
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| n.海湾；深渊，鸿沟；分歧，隔阂 | |
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fumed
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| 愤怒( fume的过去式和过去分词 )； 大怒； 发怒； 冒烟 | |
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56
fretted
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| 焦躁的，附有弦马的，腐蚀的 | |
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sobbing
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| <主方>Ⅰ adj.湿透的 | |
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58
rigid
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| adj.严格的，死板的；刚硬的，僵硬的 | |
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adorned
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| [计]被修饰的 | |
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destined
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| adj.命中注定的；(for)以…为目的地的 | |
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61
alliteration
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| n.（诗歌的）头韵 | |
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62
eminent
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| adj.显赫的，杰出的，有名的，优良的 | |
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dwelling
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| n.住宅，住所，寓所 | |
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appreciation
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| n.评价；欣赏；感谢；领会，理解；价格上涨 | |
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celebrated
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| adj.有名的，声誉卓著的 | |
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dome
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| n.圆屋顶，拱顶 | |
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persistently
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| ad.坚持地；固执地 | |
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entreaty
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| n.恳求，哀求 | |
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shuddering
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| v.战栗( shudder的现在分词 )；发抖；（机器、车辆等）突然震动；颤动 | |
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placid
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| adj.安静的，平和的 | |
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71
quill
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| n.羽毛管；v.给（织物或衣服）作皱褶 | |
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screeching
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| v.发出尖叫声( screech的现在分词 )；发出粗而刺耳的声音；高叫 | |
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73
exasperating
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| adj. 激怒的 动词exasperate的现在分词形式 | |
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winding
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| n.绕，缠，绕组，线圈 | |
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75
tugs
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| n.猛拉( tug的名词复数 )；猛拖；拖船v.用力拉，使劲拉，猛扯( tug的第三人称单数 ) | |
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tilted
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| v. 倾斜的 | |
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tangled
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| adj. 纠缠的，紊乱的 动词tangle的过去式和过去分词 | |
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bristle
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| v.（毛发）直立，气势汹汹，发怒；n.硬毛发 | |
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vibration
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| n.颤动，振动；摆动 | |
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tenor
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| n.男高音（歌手），次中音（乐器），要旨，大意 | |
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sonorous
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| adj.响亮的，回响的；adv.圆润低沉地；感人地；n.感人，堂皇 | |
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bass
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| n.男低音(歌手)；低音乐器；低音大提琴 | |
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sprawling
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| adj.蔓生的，不规则地伸展的v.伸开四肢坐[躺]( sprawl的现在分词 )；蔓延；杂乱无序地拓展；四肢伸展坐着（或躺着） | |
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glimmering
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| n.微光，隐约的一瞥adj.薄弱地发光的v.发闪光，发微光( glimmer的现在分词 ) | |
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poignant
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| adj.令人痛苦的，辛酸的，惨痛的 | |
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cylinders
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| n.圆筒( cylinder的名词复数 )；圆柱；汽缸；（尤指用作容器的）圆筒状物 | |
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cylinder
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| n.圆筒，柱(面)，汽缸 | |
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88
exhausted
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| adj.极其疲惫的，精疲力尽的 | |
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constriction
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| 压缩； 紧压的感觉； 束紧； 压缩物 | |
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pricked
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| 刺，扎，戳( prick的过去式和过去分词 )； 刺伤； 刺痛； 使剧痛 | |
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banished
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| v.放逐，驱逐( banish的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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stifling
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| a.令人窒息的 | |
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93
prospects
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| n.希望，前途(恒为复数) | |
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stuffy
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| adj.不透气的，闷热的 | |
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95
acquiescence
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| n.默许；顺从 | |
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grumbled
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| 抱怨( grumble的过去式和过去分词 )； 发牢骚； 咕哝； 发哼声 | |
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pompously
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| adv.傲慢地，盛大壮观地；大模大样 | |
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98
leopard
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| n.豹 | |
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99
longing
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| n.（for）渴望 | |
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100
gasp
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| n.喘息，气喘；v.喘息；气吁吁他说 | |
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101
defective
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| adj.有毛病的，有问题的，有瑕疵的 | |
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sordid
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| adj.肮脏的，不干净的，卑鄙的，暗淡的 | |
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103
subjective
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| a.主观(上)的，个人的 | |
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104
phenomena
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| n.现象 | |
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105
groan
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| vi./n.呻吟，抱怨；(发出)呻吟般的声音 | |
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106
serpentine
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| adj.蜿蜒的，弯曲的 | |
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107
plunge
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| v.跳入，(使)投入，(使)陷入；猛冲 | |
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108
stifled
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| （使）窒息， （使）窒闷( stifle的过去式和过去分词 )； 镇压，遏制； 堵 | |
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109
hurled
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| v.猛投，用力掷( hurl的过去式和过去分词 )；大声叫骂 | |
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110
tinkle
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| vi.叮当作响；n.叮当声 | |
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111
wholesome
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| adj.适合；卫生的；有益健康的；显示身心健康的 | |
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