The face in the mirror, though, was much younger, and resolve flared5 up in its eyes like a lighted fire.
“You,” I addressed my reflection, “are not a sneak6. You are not going to be made one. Tonight you will present yourself to Mr. James Barton Moore, and you will inform him that the little trick of hypnotism performed by his wife last August will either be reversed by her, or he himself will pay for it unpleasantly. I believe,” and my arm muscles flexed7 in bravado8, “that Mr. Jimmy Moore will think twice before he refuses.” That was what I said. But in my heart I yearned9 suddenly to go and fling myself, abject10, at the feet of Alicia Moore, and entreat11 her to help me.
It was a cold night, and the afternoon’s scattered12 flakes13 had increased to a snowfall. Alighting from the car — not mine, this time, but the transit14 company’s — I found the snow inches deep. I can still recall the feel of it blown against my face, like light, cold finger-touches.
Plowing15 through it, I came again to the “dead-alive house.” That other visit had been in summer. The twin lawns, one green and close-cropped, the other high-grown with weeds, had stood out contrastingly then. There had been a line of sharp demarcation between Moore’s clean, freshly painted half of the house and the other half’s dirt-freckled wall.
Now all that sharp difference was blurred16 and indistinct. The snow, blue-white in the swaying circles of light from a corner arc lamp, had buried both the lawns. Joining the roofs in whiteness, drifting across the porches, swirling17 in the air, it obliterated18 all but a hint of difference between the living half and the dead.
Though the windows of one part were dark as those of the other, a faint glow shone through the curtained glazing19 of Moore’s door.
Now that I was here, I almost hoped that he and his wife were out. The accusation20 I must make was strange to absurdity21. I braced22 myself, however, opened the gate, and as I did so a hand dropped on my shoulder from behind.
A man had come upon me soundlessly through the snow. In my nerve-racked state, I whirled and struck at him.
He caught my wrist. “Here! I’m no highwayman, Clay!”
“Nils,” I laughed shakily, “you startled me.”
Berquist stared, with a sudden close attention that I found myself shrinking from. For weeks I had been keeping a secret at some cost. Though I had come here to reveal it, the habit of concealment23 was still on me.
“Your nerves used to be better than that,” said Berquist shortly.
“You calling on Moore?” I queried24. “Thought there was some kind of vendetta25 between you. You wouldn’t come here with me, I remember.”
“I’m glad you remember something,” he retorted gravely. “You have a very nice, hospitable26 family, though. They took me in last night and fed me on the bare strength of my word that I’d been invited.”
“I say, Nils, that’s too bad.”
In the desperate search I had made for Van the previous evening, I had clean forgotten my dinner invitation to Berquist. Reaching home near midnight, I had received a thoroughly27 sisterly call-down from Cathy, who had waited up to express her frank opinion of a brother who not only invited a friend to dinner without forewarning her, but neglected even to be present when that friend arrived.
It seemed, too, that Roberta had dined there on Cathy’s own invitation, and the two girls had unitedly agreed that poor Nils was “odd” and not very desirable. He had committed the double offense28 of talking wild theories to dad, verbally ignoring the feminine element, and at the same time staring Bert out of countenance29 whenever her eyes were not actually on him.
I had informed Cathy that Bert should feel highly honored, since Nils was generally too shy even to look at a girl, much less stare at her, and that as the family’s support I should certainly invite whom I pleased to dinner; as for Nils, I had regretted missing him; but knew he was too casual himself to hold the lapse30 against me.
Now I began an apology that was rather wandering, for my mind was otherwise concerned.
I wished to tell him about the Fifth Presence. Before I entered Moore’s house, it would be very well that I should tell Nils of my errand. Why, in the name all reason, was I possessed31 by this sense of shame that shut my lips whenever I tried to open them concerning the haunting face?
Cutting the apologies short, Nils forgave me, explained that though out of sympathy with Moore’s work, he occasionally called to play chess with him, and then we were going up the snow-blanketed walk, side by side.
Even the chess sometimes ends in “a row,” Nils added gloomily. “I wouldn’t play him at all, if he hadn’t beaten me so many times. Perhaps some day I’ll get the score even, and then I shan’t come here any more.”
“Moore is — did he ever tell you that I kept my appointment with him?”
“Which one?”
The question leaped out cuttingly sharp.
“The only one I ever made with him, of course. That day you introduced me to him in the restaurant.”
“You haven’t been coming here since?”
“No. Why should you think that?”
We had checked again, half-way up the walk. As we stood Nils caught my shoulders and swung me around till the arc-lamp rays beat on my face. He scrutinized32 me from under frowning brows.
“You’ve lost something!” he said bluntly. “I can’t tell exactly what. I don’t know what story your eyes hide; but they hide one. Clay, don’t think me an officious meddler33, but you — you have your family dependent on you — and — oh, why do I beat about the bush? That girl you will marry some day; she’s rather wonderful. For her sake, if not your own, tell me the truth. Has Moore involved you in some of his cursed, dangerous experiments? Tell me, is it that, or” — his voice softened-“are you merely worn out with the common and comparatively safe kinds of trouble?”
“I’ve had — trouble enough to worry any fellow.”
“Yes, but is any part of it to be laid at this door?” He jerked his head toward Moore’s dimly radiant portal.
“A face — a face — ” sheer panic choked words in my throat. I had begun betraying the secret which every atom of my being demanded should be kept.
“Yes; a face.”
“A face — is not necessarily a chart of the owner’s doings,” I wrenched34 roughly from his grasp. “Since when have you set up as a critic in physiognomy, Nils?”
“When one has a friend, one cares to look beneath the surface,” he said simply.
“Well, don’t look with the air of hunting out a criminal, then. I have as good a right to call here as you, haven’t I? Moore sent me a letter asking me to drop around, so I— I thought I would. I’m tired, and need distraction35. What’s the harm?”
Without answering, he eyed me through a long moment; then turned quietly and went on up into the porch.
Standing36 hesitant, I glanced upward, looking for a light in the windows above. Again. I saw the slanting37 roofs, blended in snow. Months ago, in a momentary38 illusion of moonlight, I had seen them look just so. The thought brought me a tiny prick39 of apprehension40. Not fear, but the startled uneasiness one might feel at coming to a place one has never visited, and knowing it for the place one has seen in a dream.
Nevertheless, I followed Nils to the door.
Another maid opened it than the one who had admitted Roberta and myself in August. She was a great, craggy, hard-faced old colored woman, whom Nils addressed rather familiarly as “Sabina,” and who made him rather glumly41 welcome in accents that betrayed her Southern origin. She assumed, I suppose, that Nils and I had come together, and my card did not precede me into Moore’s sanctum.
The latter was in the library again. The shades and curtains were drawn42 tight which accounted for the “not-at-home” look of the windows from outside. I learned later that he frequently denied himself to callers, even near acquaintances, unless they came by appointment. His letter to me had been ignored too long to come under that heading. I wonder! Would he have refused to see me that night, given a choice?
In my very first step across the library’s threshold, I realized that my battle was to be an even more difficult one than I had feared.
Passing the doorway44 I entered — physically45 and consciously entered — the same field of tension, to call it that, which had centralized about Alicia at the climax46 of my previous experience.
It was less masterful than then. There was not the same drain on my physical strength, nor the feeling of being in harmony with the movements of others. But the condition was none the less present; I knew it as surely and actually as one recognizes a marked change in atmospheric47 temperature or, to use a closer simile48, as one feels entry into the radius49 of electrical force produced by a certain type of powerful generator50.
There are no words which will exactly express what I mean. The consciousness involved is other than normal, and only a person who had been possessed by it could fully51 understand.
On that first occasion, I had been sure that my impressions were shared by the others present. This time some minutes passed before I became convinced that Berquist and James Moore, at least, were insensitive to the condition.
The library appeared as I had seen it first, save that the lamp broken then had been replaced by another, with a Japanese “art” shade made of painted silk. Near the large reading-table, with the lamp, a small stand had been drawn up and a chessboard laid on it. In anticipation52 of Nils’ arrival Moore had been arranging the pieces. They were red and white ivory men, finely carved. They and the Japanese lampshade made a glow of exotic color, in the shadow behind which sat — Alicia, a dim figure, pallid53 and immobile.
By one of those surface thoughts that flash across moments of intensity54, I noted55 that Moore was dressed in a gray suit, patterned with a faint, large check in lighter56 gray.
Then Moore had recognized me, and the man’s pale eyebrows57 lifted.
“You’ve brought Barbour?” he said to Nils.
“No,” denied my friend. “Met him at the door. How do, Alicia?”
He strode across the room to where Mrs. Moore sat in the shadow.
Under other conditions I should have felt embarrassed. By Moore’s tone and Nils’ non-committal response, they placed me as an intruder, received without even a gloss58 of welcome for courtesy’s sake.
But to me it seemed only strange that they could speak at all in ordinary tones through this atmosphere of breathless tension. A voice here, I thought, should be either a shriek59 or a whisper.
Then Alicia’s dry monotone.
“You should have come alone, Nils. You have brought one with you who is very evil. I know him. He is an eater of lives.”
“Dear lady!” protested Nils, half jokingly. “Surely you don’t apply that cannibalistic description to my friend here? He might take it that way.”
“How he takes it is nothing,” shrugged60 Alicia. “There are four of us here, and there is also a fifth. And I think your friend is more aware of that than even I.”
Moore’s previously61 unenthusiastic face lighted to quick eagerness. He pounced62 on Alicia’s original phrase like a cat jumping for a mouse.
“An eater of life! Did you say this invisible Fifth Presence is an ‘eater of life,’ Alicia?”
“I did not,” she retorted precisely63. “I said an eater of lives. Everyone does not know that-”
“No, but wait, Alicia. This is really interesting.” He turned from her to us. “There’s a particularly horrid64 old German legend about such a being.” He informed us of it with the air of one imparting some delightful65 news. “Give me a German legend always for pure horror, but this excels the average. Der verschlingener des Lebeng — ‘The Devourer66 of Life.’ Very interesting. Now the question arises, did Alicia read that yarn67 some time in the past, and is this the subliminal68 report of it coming out, or does she really sense an alien force which has entered the room in your company? What’s your impression, Barbour? Have you any? You’re psychic69 yourself — knew it the first time I saw you. Is anyone here but we four?”
By a great effort, I forced my lips to answer:
“I couldn’t say. This — I-”
“Have a chair, Barbour, and take your time.” He was all sudden kindliness70 the active sort, with a motive71 behind it, as I knew well enough now. To him I was not a guest but an experiment. “I haven’t a doubt,” he asserted cheerfully, “that you and Alicia sense a presence that entered with you and which such poor moles72 as Nils and myself are blind to. Now don’t deny it. Anyone possessing the psychic gift who denies or tries to smother73 it is not only unwise but selfish. Supremely74 selfish. And it’s a curious fact that one powerful psychic will often bring out the undeveloped potentialities in another. Alicia may have already done that for you. When you were here before-”
“That will do!” Abruptly75 deserting Alicia, Nils strode down upon us. There was wrath76 in every line of his dark face. “Jimmy, that boy is my friend! If he has ‘Psychic potentialities,’ as you call it, let ’em alone. He doesn’t wish to develop into a ghost-ridden, hysterical77, semi-human monstrosity, with one foot in this world and the other across the border.”
“Really,” drawled Moore, “that description runs beyond even the insolence78 I’ve learned to expect from you, Berquist. My wife is a psychic.”
Nils was not too easily crushed, but this time he had brought confusion on himself. “Ghost-ridden, hysterical, semi-human monstrosity” may have been an excellent description of Alicia. It is certain, however, that Nils-had forgotten her when he voiced it. He flushed to the ears and stammered79 through an apology, to which Moore listened in grim silence.
Then Alicia spoke80, with her customary dry directness.
“I am not offended. My guides do not like you, Nils, but that is because your opposition81 interferes82 with the work. Personally I like you for speaking frankly83 always. Take your unfortunate young friend, Mr. Barbour, and go away now.’
“Alicia!” Moore was half pleading, half-indignant. “You agreed with me that Barbour had possibilities of mediumship almost as great as your own. And yet you send him away. Think of the work.”
“I tried to send him away the first time.” From beyond the lamp Alicia’s enormous eyes glinted mockingly at her husband. “You believed,” she went on, “that Mr. Barbour was naturally psychic, but undeveloped. Many times, we have disagreed in similar cases. Your theory that more than half the human race might, properly trained, be sensitive to the etheric vibrations84 of astral and spiritual beings is true enough.”
“Then why did you-”
“Don’t argue, James. That tires me. I say that your belief is correct. But I have told you and, through me, my guides have told you that not everyone who is a natural sensitive is worthy85 of being developed.”
“I consulted you” — Moore’s voice trembled with suppressed irritation86 — “I consulted you, and you-”
“I said that a tremendous psychic possibility enveloped Mr. Barbour. That was true. Had I told you that the possibility was evil, that would have been equally true. But you would not have yielded to my judgment87, and sent him away — as I tried to do.”
“Alicia,” cried her husband, “are we never to have any clear understandings?”
“Possibly not,” she said, with cool indifference88. “I am — what I am. Also I am a channel for all forces, good or evil. My guides protect me, of course. They will not let any bad spirit harm me. But I think Mr. Barbour was not glad that he stayed when I wished him to go. He has come back to me for help. I am not sure that I wish to help him. It was a long time before I was rested from my first struggle with the One he is afraid of.”
Nils made an impatient movement. “I don’t believe Clay needs any help except — pardon me, Alicia — except to keep away from this house and you.”
“Then why did he return here?”
“Because,” interpolated Moore, with a scowl89 for Nils, “he grew interested in his own possibilities. This attempt to frighten him is not only absurd, but the worst thing possible for him. Of course the invisible forces are of different kinds, and of course some of them are inimical. But fear is the only dangerous weapon they have. If they can’t frighten you, they can’t harm you.”
“Alicia,” cut in Nils, “seems to disagree there.”
“Alicia does agree. She inclines to repel90 the so-called evil beings, not from fear of them, but because they are more apt to trespass91 than the friendlier powers. They demand too much of her strength. In consequence, I have had an insufficient92 opportunity to study them. If Barbour is psychic — and I should say that he very obviously is — then his strength, combined with Alicia’s, should be great enough for almost any strain. You are interfering93 here, Berquist. I won’t have it. I— will — not — have — it.”
“And my friend is to be sacrificed so that you may study demonology?”
“Berquist, I have nothing to do with demons95 or daevas, devils or flibbertigibbets. You use the nomenclature of a past age.”
“Verschlingener des Lebens,” quoted Nils quickly. “You didn’t boggle over nomenclature when Alicia warned us that an ‘eater of life’ was present.”
“Oh, give me patience!” groaned96 Moore. “I try to trace a reference, and you — ” He broke off and wheeled to the small, shadowy figure beyond the lamplight. “Alicia, exactly what did you mean when you said that an ‘eater of lives’ had entered the room? You can put us straight there, at least.”
“I meant,” drawled Alicia, “one of those quaint43, harmless beings whom you are so anxious to study at anybody’s expense. Not a demon94, certainly, in the sense that Nils means. But not company I care for, either. No, I am not afraid of this one. He has the strength of an enormous greed — of a dead spirit who covets98 life — but he will not trap me again into lending my strength to his purpose.
“His! Whose? Do be plain for once, Alicia.”
“I try to be,” she retorted composedly. “I could give him a name that one of you at least would recognize. But that would please him too well. There is power in a name. Everyone does not know that, nor how to use it. This one does. He bears his name written across his forehead. He wills that I shall see it and speak it now. Once he surprised me into speaking it, but that was Mr. Barbour’s fault. He threw me off balance at a critical moment by turning on the lights. You have probably forgotten the name I spoke then, but I doubt if Mr. Barbour has forgotten. This one whom I refuse to name has no power over me. I have many friends among the living dead who protect me from such dead spirits as this one-”
“Just a minute, Alicia!” Moore was exaggeratedly patient. “I can believe in a dead body, and through you I’ve come to believe in live spirits, disembodied. But a dead spirit! That would be like an extinguished flame. It would have no existence.”
She shook her head. “Please don’t argue, James, You know that tires me. A spirit cannot perish. But a spirit may die, and having died, exist in death eternal. There is life eternal and there is death eternal. There are the living spirits of the so-called dead. They are many, and harmless. My guides are of their number. Also there are dead spirits. They are the ones to beware of, because they covet97 life. Such a one is he whom I called ‘an eater of lives,’ and who is better known to Mr. Barbour than to me. That is not my fault, however, and now I wish no more to do with any of it. I must insist, James, that you ask Mr. Barbour to leave. In fact, if he remains99 in the house five minutes longer I shall go out of it.”
Her strange eyes opened suddenly till a gleam of white was plainly visible all around the wide blackness of them. Her porcelain100, doll-like placidity101 vanished in an instant.
“Make him go!” she cried. “I tell you, there is an evil in this room which is accumulating force every moment. I tell you, something bad is coming. Bad! Do you hear me? And I won’t be involved in it. I won’t! I won’t!”
Her voice rose to a querulous shriek. A spasm102 twitched103 every feature. And then she had sunk back in her chair with drooped104 lids.
“Bad!” she murmured softly.
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1
sketchy
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| adj.写生的，写生风格的，概略的 | |
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intermittently
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| adv.间歇地；断断续续 | |
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afflicted
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| 使受痛苦，折磨( afflict的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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enveloped
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| v.包围，笼罩，包住( envelop的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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Flared
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| adj. 端部张开的, 爆发的, 加宽的, 漏斗式的 动词flare的过去式和过去分词 | |
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6
sneak
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| vt.潜行(隐藏,填石缝)；偷偷摸摸做；n.潜行；adj.暗中进行 | |
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7
flexed
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| adj.[医]曲折的，屈曲v.屈曲( flex的过去式和过去分词 )；弯曲；（为准备大干而）显示实力；摩拳擦掌 | |
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bravado
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| n.虚张声势，故作勇敢，逞能 | |
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yearned
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| 渴望，切盼，向往( yearn的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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abject
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| adj.极可怜的，卑屈的 | |
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entreat
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| v.恳求，恳请 | |
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scattered
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| adj.分散的，稀疏的；散步的；疏疏落落的 | |
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13
flakes
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| 小薄片( flake的名词复数 )； （尤指）碎片； 雪花； 古怪的人 | |
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transit
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| n.经过，运输；vt.穿越，旋转；vi.越过 | |
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plowing
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| v.耕( plow的现在分词 )；犁耕；费力穿过 | |
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blurred
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| v.（使）变模糊( blur的过去式和过去分词 )；（使）难以区分；模模糊糊；迷离 | |
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swirling
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| v.旋转，打旋( swirl的现在分词 ) | |
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obliterated
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| v.除去( obliterate的过去式和过去分词 )；涂去；擦掉；彻底破坏或毁灭 | |
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glazing
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| n.玻璃装配业；玻璃窗；上釉；上光v.装玻璃( glaze的现在分词 )；上釉于，上光；（目光）变得呆滞无神 | |
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accusation
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| n.控告，指责，谴责 | |
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absurdity
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| n.荒谬，愚蠢；谬论 | |
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braced
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| adj.拉牢的v.支住( brace的过去式和过去分词 )；撑牢；使自己站稳；振作起来 | |
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concealment
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| n.隐藏, 掩盖，隐瞒 | |
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queried
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| v.质疑，对…表示疑问( query的过去式和过去分词 )；询问 | |
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vendetta
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| n.世仇，宿怨 | |
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hospitable
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| adj.好客的；宽容的；有利的，适宜的 | |
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thoroughly
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| adv.完全地，彻底地，十足地 | |
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offense
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| n.犯规，违法行为；冒犯，得罪 | |
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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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lapse
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| n.过失，流逝，失效，抛弃信仰，间隔；vi.堕落，停止，失效，流逝；vt.使失效 | |
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possessed
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| adj.疯狂的；拥有的，占有的 | |
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scrutinized
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| v.仔细检查，详审( scrutinize的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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meddler
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| n.爱管闲事的人，干涉者 | |
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wrenched
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| v.（猛力地）扭( wrench的过去式和过去分词 )；扭伤；使感到痛苦；使悲痛 | |
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distraction
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| n.精神涣散，精神不集中，消遣，娱乐 | |
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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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slanting
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| 倾斜的，歪斜的 | |
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momentary
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| adj.片刻的，瞬息的；短暂的 | |
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prick
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| v.刺伤，刺痛，刺孔；n.刺伤，刺痛 | |
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apprehension
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| n.理解，领悟；逮捕，拘捕；忧虑 | |
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glumly
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| adv.忧郁地，闷闷不乐地；阴郁地 | |
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42
drawn
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| v.拖，拉，拔出；adj.憔悴的，紧张的 | |
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quaint
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| adj.古雅的，离奇有趣的，奇怪的 | |
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44
doorway
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| n.门口，(喻)入门；门路，途径 | |
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45
physically
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| adj.物质上，体格上，身体上，按自然规律 | |
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climax
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| n.顶点；高潮；v.(使)达到顶点 | |
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atmospheric
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| adj.大气的，空气的；大气层的；大气所引起的 | |
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simile
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| n.直喻，明喻 | |
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radius
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| n.半径，半径范围；有效航程，范围，界限 | |
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generator
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| n.发电机，发生器 | |
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fully
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| adv.完全地，全部地，彻底地；充分地 | |
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anticipation
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| n.预期，预料，期望 | |
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pallid
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| adj.苍白的，呆板的 | |
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intensity
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| n.强烈，剧烈；强度；烈度 | |
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noted
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| adj.著名的，知名的 | |
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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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eyebrows
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| 眉毛( eyebrow的名词复数 ) | |
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gloss
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| n.光泽，光滑；虚饰；注释；vt.加光泽于；掩饰 | |
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shriek
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| v./n.尖叫，叫喊 | |
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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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previously
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| adv.以前，先前（地） | |
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pounced
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| v.突然袭击( pounce的过去式和过去分词 )；猛扑；一眼看出；抓住机会（进行抨击） | |
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precisely
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| adv.恰好，正好，精确地，细致地 | |
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horrid
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| adj.可怕的；令人惊恐的；恐怖的；极讨厌的 | |
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delightful
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| adj.令人高兴的，使人快乐的 | |
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devourer
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| 吞噬者 | |
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yarn
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| n.纱，纱线，纺线；奇闻漫谈，旅行轶事 | |
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subliminal
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| adj.下意识的，潜意识的；太弱或太快以至于难以觉察的 | |
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psychic
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| n.对超自然力敏感的人；adj.有超自然力的 | |
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kindliness
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| n.厚道，亲切，友好的行为 | |
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motive
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| n.动机，目的；adv.发动的，运动的 | |
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moles
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| 防波堤( mole的名词复数 )； 鼹鼠； 痣； 间谍 | |
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smother
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| vt./vi.使窒息；抑制；闷死；n.浓烟；窒息 | |
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supremely
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| adv.无上地，崇高地 | |
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abruptly
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| adv.突然地，出其不意地 | |
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wrath
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| n.愤怒，愤慨，暴怒 | |
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hysterical
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| adj.情绪异常激动的，歇斯底里般的 | |
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insolence
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| n.傲慢；无礼；厚颜；傲慢的态度 | |
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stammered
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| v.结巴地说出( stammer的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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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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opposition
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| n.反对，敌对 | |
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interferes
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| vi. 妨碍，冲突，干涉 | |
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frankly
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| adv.坦白地，直率地；坦率地说 | |
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vibrations
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| n.摆动( vibration的名词复数 )；震动；感受；（偏离平衡位置的）一次性往复振动 | |
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worthy
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| adj.(of)值得的，配得上的；有价值的 | |
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irritation
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| n.激怒，恼怒，生气 | |
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judgment
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| n.审判；判断力，识别力，看法，意见 | |
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indifference
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| n.不感兴趣，不关心，冷淡，不在乎 | |
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scowl
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| vi.(at)生气地皱眉，沉下脸，怒视；n.怒容 | |
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repel
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| v.击退，抵制，拒绝，排斥 | |
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trespass
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| n./v.侵犯，闯入私人领地 | |
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insufficient
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| adj.(for，of)不足的，不够的 | |
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interfering
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| adj. 妨碍的 动词interfere的现在分词 | |
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demon
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| n.魔鬼，恶魔 | |
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demons
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| n.恶人( demon的名词复数 )；恶魔；精力过人的人；邪念 | |
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groaned
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| v.呻吟( groan的过去式和过去分词 )；发牢骚；抱怨；受苦 | |
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covet
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| vt.垂涎；贪图(尤指属于他人的东西) | |
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98
covets
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| v.贪求，觊觎( covet的第三人称单数 ) | |
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99
remains
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| n.剩余物，残留物；遗体，遗迹 | |
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100
porcelain
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| n.瓷；adj.瓷的，瓷制的 | |
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101
placidity
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| n.平静，安静，温和 | |
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102
spasm
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| n.痉挛，抽搐；一阵发作 | |
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103
twitched
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| vt.& vi.（使）抽动，（使）颤动（twitch的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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104
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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