Madame Rolland writes in her famous Memoirs3 that one of her greatest objections to a certain suitor was the fact that he was a trader. “In commerce,” said this brilliant victim of the French Revolution, “one is supposed to buy at a low figure and sell at an exaggerated price, a scheme usually demanding the aid of lies.”
Leaving with Mme Rolland the responsibility of such an assertion, it is quite safe to say that the trade in antiques, the flourishing commerce in curios, is a trade, if ever there was one, in which objects are bought cheap and sold at a high price, with a stock of lies as a necessary asset.
Naturally the statement does not imply that every dealer is a confirmed liar4, ready to take advantage of the incautious and unskilled novice5 through misrepresentation. Yet even at its best the character of the trade in our day is such that it is difficult to score success without—what shall we say?—flavouring opportunity with fantastic tales, without firing the client’s enthusiasm with some form of mirage7, namely, tricking his good faith to entice8 him within the orbit of—faith.
Point out to a buyer, for instance, the different parts of an object that have been skilfully9 restored, and nine times out of ten the customer will drop the whole business.
151 It is incredible the amount of stuff even a good art lover will swallow, if properly offered by a person he trusts, just as it is incredible to see how the enhancing of merits with—grey lies, will help the conclusion of a good round piece of business. One must have had a glimpse at the make-up, have taken a peep behind the scenes to become aware that the more imposing11 the transaction, the more diverting and genial12 is the comedy played before the customer, who, at first a spectator, in due time will be called in most cases to take his part in the play, the part of the duped.
There are methods to work up public enthusiasm greatly resembling those adopted by the scheming capitalist in the Stock Exchange.
An English curio dealer of unquestionably high repute realized large profits on Dresden china by the artful way he put before the public an article apparently13 out of fashion with collectors of ceramics15. For two or three years he bought all the Meissen ware10 within reach until he had accumulated a large quantity at extremely low figures. Then he began sending pieces to noted16 auction17 sales, where he invariably sent agents to buy them in after running the objects up to an extravagant18 price. This trick gradually built up a reputation for Meissen china, some noted collector began to take an interest in it, others followed in his wake. When Meissen ware became the rage and prices were accordingly high, the shrewd dealer got rid of his stock at an astonishing profit.
Nothing absolutely dishonest, one may observe. Yet without stopping to ask whether the action comes within Mme. Rolland’s hyperbolic conception of honesty, it cannot be denied that in the fine art and curio trade what might be defined as the staging part is the most important, even if it finds its greatest justification19 in clients who follow one another in taste like so many sheep.
The trade in curios may be more specifically outlined by the study of the dramatis personæ taking part in it. It will then be seen that the artifice20 practised by the London152 antiquary of good repute is rather an anodyne21 form of misrepresentation. Such trade tricks differ from the commonplace ones characterizing unclean dealing22 in other branches of commerce; there is a smack23 of genius about them which might at times plead for the pardon that Draconian24 laws accorded to well-thought-out and talented forms of theft. A picture of the clever plots and amusing intrigues25 planned to the detriment26 of the modern collector would demand the pen of a Molière. Only the illustrator of Monsieur Tartuffe could give the proper colouring to such inconceivable plays.
These plays are hardly new, however. They have been constantly acted and re-acted with creditable success and enlivening innovations. Formerly27 fools alone were the victims, rarely real collectors. To-day it is different, with the advent28 of the new type old distinctions have disappeared.
Some among the many art collectors are intelligent in their work, and far from being beginners. They are outsiders, however. Let them look within the penetralia, into the mysteries, the hidden secrets of the trade so carefully concealed29 from them, and they will learn how little exaggeration there is in the saying that a large portion of the business in antiques and curios is tainted30 with fraud, charlatanism31, etc., and that even some of the best collectors of our time have been deceived to such an extent that they live surrounded by their objects of virtu as in a sham32 El Dorado.
One of the late Rothschilds, a man known traditionally and de facto as a connoisseur33, a type of genuine collector, used to say that all the objects of his collection were, like Cæsar’s wife, above suspicion. Yet by the side of the finest masterpieces there were some in that collection which were, metaphorically34 speaking, wives that Cæsar would certainly have repudiated36.
Photo]
[Reali
The Battesimo.
A Bas-relief by Sig. Natali, of Florence, bought by the Louvre as work of Verrocchio. Sig. Natali, a fine imitator of the Quattrocento, like Sig. Zampini, sells his products as genuine modern work even if the connoisseurs37 decide to believe them antique.
Photo]
[Alinari
Bacchus.
By Donatello.
“I would no more admit forgeries38 to my collection than I would allow my wife to wear paste diamonds,” was the boast of a well-known collector of bronzes in Paris to a party of connoisseurs lunching with him. “But excuse me,” retorted153 a moralizing friend who was dying to reveal the truth to the “great specialist,” “no one is safe nowadays. There,” pointing to a bronze figure, “that is, what shall I say? a paste diamond! That object is a fake. I can tell you where it was cast. It was offered me very likely by the same fellow that must have palmed it off on you....” There was no trial, however, because the great bronze specialist recovered his money from the dealer—but, alas39! not his unblemished reputation.
Such stories are not strange when it is considered that museums are regularly infested40 by forgeries and spurious objects and that these have been admitted to public collections with the full approbation41 of learned curators and clever specialists. It is easy to estimate how rampant42 and keen faking must be now that incredible prices are paid for articles of virtu.
How the antiquary, the dealer, the go-between and other characters in this world of deception43 may prove to be, according to circumstances, the friend or the enemy of the curio collectors, is readily understood. Discrimination, sometimes too late, will teach who is a helper and who not.
The antiquary is generally a dealer who has no shop, but keeps objects of art in his tastefully furnished house, allowing his private show to be visited only by whom he chooses. He is as it were the aristocrat44 of the trade, the one who is presumed to ask and get the highest prices. This select dealer’s success is according to his ability, integrity or the reputation for trustworthiness he enjoys among collectors. We would repeat that the “private dealer” belongs to this high branch of the trade without any definite division. Very often he is a disguised trader with the grand air of a gentleman—an air that has to be paid for by the client, who is less likely in such a sphere to attempt to drive the hard bargain that is peculiar46 to the humble47 bric-à-brac shops.
The best and most reliable antiquaries and private dealers48 must logically be reckoned among the friends of the art lover. The latter is likely to pay them astonishing prices, but he also154 pays for security. He knows that the dealer’s experience is absolutely at his service, and that if by mischance an object is not what it has been represented to be, the honest dealer will make it good.
To end with a brief classification, it may be noted that there are dealers whose shops have private rooms in the rear where trade can be carried on in the same way as with a dealer who has no shop. From this double-faced form we pass to the real shopkeeper, the vaster class ranging from the vendor who can afford to fill his window with the choicest samples down to the modest curio shop, the benevolent49 harbour of the humbler modes of expressing art.
With the exception of the unassuming curio shop, which is still unchanged though less replete50 with interesting things and quite denuded51 of tempting52 “finds,” the disappearance53 in the dealer of his former artistic54 sentiment has fomented55 in the trade the spirit of association. Trusts and alliances have been formed by big firms, though the advantage to the amateur is to be doubted. At one time such a thing was very uncommon56, if not impossible, being apparently prevented by the dealer’s originality57 and artistic temperament58.
“Monsieur, je ne suis pas le gendarme59 de la curiosité,” old Manheim used to say to the novice showing him objects not purchased from his gallery. This was the old attitude of the trade. We do not mean that all behaved like Manheim in refusing to play the part of “policeman of curio-dealing,” others may have taken the opportunity to run down an article sold by a neighbour, but there was no probability of an object passing from one firm to another in search of better success, or going from Paris to London and vice6 versa to find the proper atmosphere or the suitable kind of knavery60. Psychologically speaking this is speculating on a faddism61 similar to that which induces the Parisian dandy to send his shirts to London to be ironed, and at the same time suggests an inverted62 game to the London snob63 who may believe that Parisian starch64 is without an equal for shirt fronts.
155 The spirit of association and a perfected knowledge of the idiosyncrasies of the modern buyer have led to the discovery that some objects show to better advantage in Paris and that others gain in the sombre grey atmosphere of London, that each background has its peculiar value and may be turned to account respectively in the realization65 of higher figures. There are even special cases when to fetch the best price an object must be sent to its birthplace where the freakish or immature66 client’s fancy may be tickled67 to advantage. The whole of this complex game in modern curio-dealing may be summed up in the single maxim68: “Find the vulnerable spot, the Achilles’ heel of your client, and you are safe.” It must be added that the Achilles’ heel of the modern collector may be of a more complex anatomy69 but is of more extended proportions than that of the Greek hero. As soon as a star of first magnitude bursts forth70 upon the financial sky to rise upon the artistic one, all the forces of the latter quickly learn dynamic precision, the extent of possibilities. Whether erratic71 or not, the orbit of the new star will be studied throughout its course with astronomical72 exactitude. To continue the metaphorical35 image it may be added that should the new star prove to be of solar magnitude a whole planetary system of cupidity73 and greedy desire will soon be formed within its golden rays.
From now forward it is of this shady brilliancy of the planetary system of the curio world that we intend to speak. The honest dealer needs neither our praise nor defence, he can take care of himself, and the esteem74 he enjoys plainly divides him from the sphere upon which we are entering, the precinct of an art and curio inferno75 which might bear Dante’s superscription: “Through me is the way to the city dolent.”
As the main principle of curio-dealing is to buy at a low figure and sell at the highest price possible, it is evident that when this apophthegm falls into the hands of the unscrupulous, the art of buying and selling takes on most Machiavellian76 hues77.
The infrequency of good bargains, which are becoming156 rarer every day, has lately fostered the activity of competition, making the art of buying a shrewd, unscrupulous game, in which the dealer, with his numerous emissaries, is prepared, Proteus-like, to invest himself with every imaginable part.
If an object cannot be secured in a direct manner, the dealer will indulge in side-play, called in the Italian argot78 of the trade, di mattonella. When dealers are not admitted and it is important that the object should be inspected before the conclusion of a business transaction, the antiquary or shopkeeper, namely the buyer, is generally careful to hide his professional quality. He is often introduced as a foreign casual visitor interested in art.
If the pretended foreigner does not succeed in obtaining the object because the owner, perhaps a gentleman, has demanded a big price, then other characters, the decoys in the play, may be put upon the stage to say that the object is not worth the price, that it has been injured in restoration, etc. Sometimes the pseudo-foreigner assumes the part of a novice naively79 confessing that he is not versed80 in antiques, but should Professor So-and-so give a favourable81 opinion he would willingly remit82 the price. The rest is left to the sham professor.
Of the self-disguising tendency of a noted Italian antiquary when in search for the ever-rarer good bargains, the following amusing story is told.
A noble family of Pisa were induced, by financial circumstances, to part with some of their valuable works of art and made the condition that no antiquary or dealer was to be mixed up in the transaction. A certain Florentine antiquary noted for craft and trickery, in particular, was to be excluded.
The said antiquary got wind of the unusual opportunity and managed to visit the palace in the guise45 of a stranger. He saw a certain work of art and a bargain was struck with Count Z., the head of the family, to the satisfaction of them both. As the antiquary was about to leave the nobleman said, confidentially83, “Don’t let anyone know about this157 affair, nor that I am selling things. I have a particular objection to dealers, above all to a certain intriguer84 and thief——” Here he named the very man he was addressing.
When bargains are made on the plan of exchanging one object for another, they are no less disastrous85 for the unwary and ignorant owner. There are Madonnas by good Renaissance86 artists that countrymen and villagers have gladly bartered87 for cheap modern chromo-like paintings worth only a few francs, old artistic stuccos and bas-reliefs secured for some cheap piece of plaster-cast, pieces of old damask exchanged by ignorant priests for a few yards of brand-new shining satinette.
Even such exchanges necessitate88 at times certain wiles89, such as stories by “go-betweens,” garbed90 as monks91 or priests, posing as benevolent friends of the church or some other meek92 character.
A philodramatic society, owning a small theatre, once used a piece of fine Flemish tapestry93 as a drop curtain. Dark and unattractive to the untrained eye, the curtain was hung for lack of a better. It was objectionably heavy to raise or lower. To make things easier and lighter94, a Mæcenas of the dramatic art offered to exchange the old clumsy curtain for a new one painted in the most approved style. The proposal was accepted with enthusiasm, and after some time it was casually95 found out by one of the actors that their former curtain had been sold in Paris to a French collector for a sum that would have built the needy96 society a palatial97 theatre.
If a dealer does not succeed in securing a work of art he is apt to spoil all chances for others by what is known as mettere il bavaglino, that is, metaphorically, to tie a bib round the neck of the object. The game is played by enthusiastically praising the article that it has not been possible to acquire.
When a certain kind of dealer finds that his offer has not been accepted he becomes artful, admitting that he has tendered all he is able to give, but that he honestly recognizes the article to be worth more. Proceedings98 now evolve much158 as follows: “How much do you think it is really worth?” asks the owner with legitimate99 curiosity. “A dealer richer than myself might pay so and so, but then an outsider, of course....” Here the trickster is not likely to estimate the work but will vaguely100 convey an idea of its immense value by telling of recent sales where millions have been paid for works of art. The result is that the owner loses all balance as regards the value of his object, and in all probability will never sell it for the simple reason that he raises the price every time the sum demanded is reached. A doctor in Lucca who possessed101 a passable Maestro Giorgio, a ceramic14 piece that may have been worth ten thousand francs, was unacquainted with its value and would have been willing to sell it for five francs. He received an offer of fifty francs for it, and thinking it generous for a cracked bit of earthenware102, became suspicious. Very soon the dealer bid a thousand francs, then gradually worked up to three thousand, the price he had made up his mind not to pass. Then when the “bib” was properly bound round the article he boldly offered fifty thousand—naturally intending to turn it all into a joke should the offer be accepted in good faith. The castle-builder died dreaming of millions, of course before having parted with his dish. The heir sold it for a moderate sum, so moderate a one that it might have raised a posthumous103 protest from the dead doctor.
In like manner, but this time by way of a joke, an antiquary persuaded a countryman that a brass104 dish he owned, for which he had refused the few francs that it was worth, was priceless, that there was gold in the alloy105 and that the chiselling106 was a lost process in the art of working brass. The specimen107 was rarissimo, he said. As a finishing touch and to give it a flavour of Boccaccio-like humour, he occasionally sent friends to play the part of anxious buyers, offering higher and higher sums. Gradually dealers entered into the spirit of the joke and on passing the village never failed to offer a few hundred francs more for the now celebrated108 dish.
This trick is also called inchiodare un oggetto (to nail down159 an object), and is variously denominated in the different provinces of Italy, the curio-dealers’ argot varying according to district. The slang peculiar to the trade has not a wide vocabulary, but comprises a few phrases and words by which the initiated109 can express an opinion upon some special thing or the artistic value of a certain object without being understood by the outsider. For instance, the word musica is indicative of faked objects, not as a single word but set in a colloquial110 phrase. A dealer who wants his aide-de-camp or go-between to know that the object in question is modern and not worth wasting time over, yet would convey this opinion in the presence of the proprietor111 without letting him understand, is likely to warn his colleague in some such a way as this, “Before I forget it, remind me to buy that piece of music,” or any other phrase in which music comes in naturally. To state that a price is too high, that there is no margin112 for business, or maybe even risk, the dealer will use the word bagnarsi (to get wet). It may also be merely hinted as, for instance, “Have you your umbrella?” if it should be raining, or in good weather, “No need for umbrellas.” Rather than containing a wealth of words the jargon113 is fanciful and pliable114, forming a sort of summary esperanto which with a few words furnish the freemasonry of the trade with multiform expressions.
The complementary characters to which we have alluded116 in our bird’s-eye view of the curio market are liable to exchange their functions according to the moral principles directing their actions, and in this peculiar chameleon-like attitude change colour and hide, from friendship to enmity, assisting the collector in his pursuit, namely, of helping117 the dealer to dupe him. In broad terms they include art critics, experts, go-betweens and many metamorphoses of the most variegated118 agents. To these forces must be added the silent help that is generally operative in favour of the dealer. These are drawn119 from the multiform and numerous guilds120 of the restorer, and from the questionable122 side of the trade, namely, fakers, assumed owners, noblemen or pseudo-noblemen160 willing to lend paternity and pedigree to works of art, smugglers and other degenerate123 forms of criminal and semi-criminal activity.
Speaking of the friends and enemies of the collector whose co-operation is more or less openly apparent and of a less mysterious character, it may be said that the art critic and expert once represented two entirely124 distinct forms of interest in art. A certain recent evolution of the art critic tends to intermingle the two groups.
The art critic of years ago was, as a rule, either a literary man who had a notion that he knew all about art by simple instinct, or a scholar who, having studied the historical part of art, imagined that this knowledge was more than sufficient to label him a connoisseur.
The victims of this misunderstanding were not only the art critics themselves but museums and public institutions trusting to their knowledge of art and giving them posts as curators or advisers125, thus throwing their gates wide open to faking—as erudition without eye or experience seems to possess that deceitful form of suggestion which so rarely affects the cold, keen intuition of the real connoisseur.
That scientists fall an easy prey126 to suggestion and are prone127 to daring or misleading hypotheses in art or archæology is beyond question. It is perhaps in the nature of their analytical128 work to tend to remain purely129 and simply analytical.
Numerous and interesting anecdotes130 could be repeated.
A case of archæological suggestive fancy is told by Paul Eudel. A piece of pottery132 was brought to a member of the Académie des Inscriptions133 as it bore a rather cryptic135 sequence of letters that had proved puzzling to other authorities. The pot with the letters in question, M. J. D. D., had been excavated136 near Dijon. As soon as the Academicien saw the letters he had no hesitation137 in pronouncing it to be a Roman vase, a small amphora used as an ex-voto. The letters, he said, represented the initials of the Latin invocation:—
Magno Jove Deorum Deo.
161 Being a question of a votive offering, nothing would be more consistent than the words, “To the great Jupiter, the god of gods.” Unfortunately such a splendid piece of inductive learning was shattered when an ordinary art dealer examined the jar and declared it to be anything but ancient, a mustard-pot in fact, the initials meaning
Moutarde Jaune de Dijon.
For a considerable time an inscription134 found on a worm-eaten piece of a sign-board puzzled the world of erudites. The inscription, evidently the work of a jester, ran thus:—
I.C.I.................E.........S.
T.L..............E..C.H.........E.
M...................I.N......D..E.
S.A................N..E.........S.
Needless to say many explanations of the obliterated138 letters were prompted by the learned suggestive fancy of professors, and many interesting reconstructions139 of the ancient inscription were given. The riddle140, however, was not solved till some one perfectly141 unacquainted with the art of reading old inscriptions happened to read the letters straight off without regard to spacing, furnishing the following true explanation:—
ICI EST LE CHEMIN DES ANES.
This is the way for asses142! has since become a byword in lampooning143 blind erudition.
Though art was not in question here, the anecdote131 nevertheless illustrates144 a tendency of inductive science, a mania145, namely, for hypothesis and explanations which in the case of art often encourages the blunders of auto-suggestion. A great distinction between practical and learned opinion is that the former rarely gives at first sight the name of the author of a painting or statuary, whereas the latter almost162 invariably baptizes works of art. Hardly has a learned art critic cast his eye upon a work and out pops the name of the artist, the school, etc. Let him talk and you will soon discover that his conclusions are not based chiefly on the perfected comparative work of his eye, but upon notions that book-reading has massed in his head. He will refer to the now almost prohibited and threadbare authority of Vasari—what would an art critic do without Vasari either to abuse or quote—saying that such and such an artist painted so and so, and speak of the influences of masters and schools, go through a list of quotations146 from Crowe and Cavalcaselle down to more modern writers, display any amount of borrowed wisdom but no originality; finally, through lack of a trained eye, he will grow poetic147 and enthusiastic impartially148 before a genuine work or a faked masterpiece.
Were not curio dealers a rather close-mouthed guild121, they might divulge149 some interesting incidents with regard to this subject, and prove that though the case is uncommon there are in this trade not only fakers of great masters but master fakers of public opinion as well.
Of the expert, Henry Rochefort says:
“At first this name expert appears to awake in us the majestic150 idea of science and authority. A dangerous opinion to entertain.”
As a matter of fact there is no control, for, as Rochefort goes on to remark: “Who can prevent a citizen from calling himself, for instance, an expert in pictures?”
The dangerous vagueness of the profession, the facility with which the title is acquired, together with the multitudinous offices it fills, make of the expert a perilous151 companion at times.
There is no doubt that when the magniloquence of the title is justified152, through unquestionable ability, supported by a reputation of untainted honesty, the expert may be of the greatest and most valuable assistance a collector can desire. His ability must then be paid for at what it is worth. But even when highly paid it is cheap compared with the163 blunders the expert is likely to save the collector—those costly153 blunders that are so often an integral part of the commencement of the career.
On the other hand, what an ignorant expert, in his supreme154 disdain155 for learning, is capable of saying when tendering information, is incredible.
Rochefort has made an amusing collection of blunders by experts when called upon to pronounce an opinion on matters in which practice counts for nothing. The anecdotes were gathered by the French writer in the public auction rooms of Paris where the expert has an official function. Here he is prepared to furnish details and useful hints regarding the objects put up for sale, to enhance their importance.
A collector confided156 to the care of an expert, Monsieur F——, a painting of a religious subject representing a scene from the Apocalypse. Giving this information, the owner asked the expert to put the painting up to auction at the first important sale.
According to arrangement, Monsieur F—— included the work among other canvasses157 at a public sale and printed in the catalogue as a description of the subject: Tableau158 de sainteté d’après l’Apocalypse (Sacred picture after Apocalypse).
“D’après l’Apocalypse?!” questioned some one when the work was offered for sale. To which the unabashed expert promptly159 replied:
“Yes, sir, Apocalypse; a German painter not very well known in Paris but highly esteemed160 abroad.”
Another such catalogue, the product of a no less imaginative expert, announced a canvas on sale to be the portrait of Louis XV by Velasquez! A figure of a woman washing dishes, attributed by the expert to Rubens on account of the exuberant161 rotundity of the model, needed perhaps a further justification for this daring attribution, for it was decorated with the following astonishing comment: “Portrait of Rubens’ wife.” (It is generally known that Rubens married his cook.)
164 The recent mania of the collector to possess masterpieces has turned the expert to a most versatile162 form of activity in order to please this exacting163 fancy of the buyer. A painting becomes “of the school” of this or that artist when it is really too bad to bear even the uncompromising qualification, “attributed to so-and-so.”
It is difficult to tell when a man ceases to be an expert and becomes invested with the part of courtier, because in keeping with the general character of the various functions of the curio world, there is no definite and plain delineation164 between the one capacity and the other. The courtier is naturally supposed to know all about the trade, to possess the necessary elements for appreciation165 of artistic value and to make others appreciate it. His chief mission, however, is to smooth over business difficulties that might arise between the seller and the buyer. As may be logically expected, the metamorphoses of this personage are infinite and may be useful or not to the collector according to circumstances. In conclusion, the go-between is not only often a necessary complement115 but may at times be used to great advantage. The difficulty lies in knowing how to choose the right sort.
点击收听单词发音
1 dealer | |
n.商人,贩子 | |
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2 vendor | |
n.卖主;小贩 | |
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3 memoirs | |
n.回忆录;回忆录传( mem,自oir的名词复数) | |
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4 liar | |
n.说谎的人 | |
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5 novice | |
adj.新手的,生手的 | |
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6 vice | |
n.坏事;恶习;[pl.]台钳,老虎钳;adj.副的 | |
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7 mirage | |
n.海市蜃楼,幻景 | |
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8 entice | |
v.诱骗,引诱,怂恿 | |
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9 skilfully | |
adv. (美skillfully)熟练地 | |
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10 ware | |
n.(常用复数)商品,货物 | |
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11 imposing | |
adj.使人难忘的,壮丽的,堂皇的,雄伟的 | |
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12 genial | |
adj.亲切的,和蔼的,愉快的,脾气好的 | |
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13 apparently | |
adv.显然地;表面上,似乎 | |
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14 ceramic | |
n.制陶业,陶器,陶瓷工艺 | |
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15 ceramics | |
n.制陶业;陶器 | |
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16 noted | |
adj.著名的,知名的 | |
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17 auction | |
n.拍卖;拍卖会;vt.拍卖 | |
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18 extravagant | |
adj.奢侈的;过分的;(言行等)放肆的 | |
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19 justification | |
n.正当的理由;辩解的理由 | |
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20 artifice | |
n.妙计,高明的手段;狡诈,诡计 | |
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21 anodyne | |
n.解除痛苦的东西,止痛剂 | |
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22 dealing | |
n.经商方法,待人态度 | |
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23 smack | |
vt.拍,打,掴;咂嘴;vi.含有…意味;n.拍 | |
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24 draconian | |
adj.严苛的;苛刻的;严酷的;龙一样的 | |
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25 intrigues | |
n.密谋策划( intrigue的名词复数 );神秘气氛;引人入胜的复杂情节v.搞阴谋诡计( intrigue的第三人称单数 );激起…的好奇心 | |
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26 detriment | |
n.损害;损害物,造成损害的根源 | |
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27 formerly | |
adv.从前,以前 | |
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28 advent | |
n.(重要事件等的)到来,来临 | |
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29 concealed | |
a.隐藏的,隐蔽的 | |
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30 tainted | |
adj.腐坏的;污染的;沾污的;感染的v.使变质( taint的过去式和过去分词 );使污染;败坏;被污染,腐坏,败坏 | |
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31 charlatanism | |
n.庸医术,庸医的行为 | |
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32 sham | |
n./adj.假冒(的),虚伪(的) | |
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33 connoisseur | |
n.鉴赏家,行家,内行 | |
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34 metaphorically | |
adv. 用比喻地 | |
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35 metaphorical | |
a.隐喻的,比喻的 | |
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36 repudiated | |
v.(正式地)否认( repudiate的过去式和过去分词 );拒绝接受;拒绝与…往来;拒不履行(法律义务) | |
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37 connoisseurs | |
n.鉴赏家,鉴定家,行家( connoisseur的名词复数 ) | |
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38 forgeries | |
伪造( forgery的名词复数 ); 伪造的文件、签名等 | |
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39 alas | |
int.唉(表示悲伤、忧愁、恐惧等) | |
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40 infested | |
adj.为患的,大批滋生的(常与with搭配)v.害虫、野兽大批出没于( infest的过去式和过去分词 );遍布于 | |
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41 approbation | |
n.称赞;认可 | |
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42 rampant | |
adj.(植物)蔓生的;狂暴的,无约束的 | |
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43 deception | |
n.欺骗,欺诈;骗局,诡计 | |
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44 aristocrat | |
n.贵族,有贵族气派的人,上层人物 | |
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45 guise | |
n.外表,伪装的姿态 | |
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46 peculiar | |
adj.古怪的,异常的;特殊的,特有的 | |
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47 humble | |
adj.谦卑的,恭顺的;地位低下的;v.降低,贬低 | |
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48 dealers | |
n.商人( dealer的名词复数 );贩毒者;毒品贩子;发牌者 | |
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49 benevolent | |
adj.仁慈的,乐善好施的 | |
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50 replete | |
adj.饱满的,塞满的;n.贮蜜蚁 | |
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51 denuded | |
adj.[医]变光的,裸露的v.使赤裸( denude的过去式和过去分词 );剥光覆盖物 | |
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52 tempting | |
a.诱人的, 吸引人的 | |
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53 disappearance | |
n.消失,消散,失踪 | |
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54 artistic | |
adj.艺术(家)的,美术(家)的;善于艺术创作的 | |
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55 fomented | |
v.激起,煽动(麻烦等)( foment的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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56 uncommon | |
adj.罕见的,非凡的,不平常的 | |
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57 originality | |
n.创造力,独创性;新颖 | |
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58 temperament | |
n.气质,性格,性情 | |
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59 gendarme | |
n.宪兵 | |
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60 knavery | |
n.恶行,欺诈的行为 | |
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61 faddism | |
n.追随流行,赶时髦 | |
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62 inverted | |
adj.反向的,倒转的v.使倒置,使反转( invert的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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63 snob | |
n.势利小人,自以为高雅、有学问的人 | |
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64 starch | |
n.淀粉;vt.给...上浆 | |
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65 realization | |
n.实现;认识到,深刻了解 | |
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66 immature | |
adj.未成熟的,发育未全的,未充分发展的 | |
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67 tickled | |
(使)发痒( tickle的过去式和过去分词 ); (使)愉快,逗乐 | |
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68 maxim | |
n.格言,箴言 | |
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69 anatomy | |
n.解剖学,解剖;功能,结构,组织 | |
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70 forth | |
adv.向前;向外,往外 | |
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71 erratic | |
adj.古怪的,反复无常的,不稳定的 | |
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72 astronomical | |
adj.天文学的,(数字)极大的 | |
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73 cupidity | |
n.贪心,贪财 | |
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74 esteem | |
n.尊敬,尊重;vt.尊重,敬重;把…看作 | |
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75 inferno | |
n.火海;地狱般的场所 | |
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76 machiavellian | |
adj.权谋的,狡诈的 | |
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77 hues | |
色彩( hue的名词复数 ); 色调; 信仰; 观点 | |
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78 argot | |
n.隐语,黑话 | |
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79 naively | |
adv. 天真地 | |
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80 versed | |
adj. 精通,熟练 | |
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81 favourable | |
adj.赞成的,称赞的,有利的,良好的,顺利的 | |
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82 remit | |
v.汇款,汇寄;豁免(债务),免除(处罚等) | |
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83 confidentially | |
ad.秘密地,悄悄地 | |
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84 intriguer | |
密谋者 | |
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85 disastrous | |
adj.灾难性的,造成灾害的;极坏的,很糟的 | |
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86 renaissance | |
n.复活,复兴,文艺复兴 | |
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87 bartered | |
v.作物物交换,以货换货( barter的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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88 necessitate | |
v.使成为必要,需要 | |
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89 wiles | |
n.(旨在欺骗或吸引人的)诡计,花招;欺骗,欺诈( wile的名词复数 ) | |
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90 garbed | |
v.(尤指某类人穿的特定)服装,衣服,制服( garb的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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91 monks | |
n.修道士,僧侣( monk的名词复数 ) | |
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92 meek | |
adj.温顺的,逆来顺受的 | |
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93 tapestry | |
n.挂毯,丰富多采的画面 | |
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94 lighter | |
n.打火机,点火器;驳船;v.用驳船运送;light的比较级 | |
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95 casually | |
adv.漠不关心地,无动于衷地,不负责任地 | |
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96 needy | |
adj.贫穷的,贫困的,生活艰苦的 | |
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97 palatial | |
adj.宫殿般的,宏伟的 | |
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98 proceedings | |
n.进程,过程,议程;诉讼(程序);公报 | |
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99 legitimate | |
adj.合法的,合理的,合乎逻辑的;v.使合法 | |
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100 vaguely | |
adv.含糊地,暖昧地 | |
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101 possessed | |
adj.疯狂的;拥有的,占有的 | |
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102 earthenware | |
n.土器,陶器 | |
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103 posthumous | |
adj.遗腹的;父亡后出生的;死后的,身后的 | |
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104 brass | |
n.黄铜;黄铜器,铜管乐器 | |
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105 alloy | |
n.合金,(金属的)成色 | |
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106 chiselling | |
n.錾v.凿,雕,镌( chisel的现在分词 ) | |
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107 specimen | |
n.样本,标本 | |
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108 celebrated | |
adj.有名的,声誉卓著的 | |
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109 initiated | |
n. 创始人 adj. 新加入的 vt. 开始,创始,启蒙,介绍加入 | |
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110 colloquial | |
adj.口语的,会话的 | |
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111 proprietor | |
n.所有人;业主;经营者 | |
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112 margin | |
n.页边空白;差额;余地,余裕;边,边缘 | |
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113 jargon | |
n.术语,行话 | |
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114 pliable | |
adj.易受影响的;易弯的;柔顺的,易驾驭的 | |
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115 complement | |
n.补足物,船上的定员;补语;vt.补充,补足 | |
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116 alluded | |
提及,暗指( allude的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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117 helping | |
n.食物的一份&adj.帮助人的,辅助的 | |
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118 variegated | |
adj.斑驳的,杂色的 | |
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119 drawn | |
v.拖,拉,拔出;adj.憔悴的,紧张的 | |
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120 guilds | |
行会,同业公会,协会( guild的名词复数 ) | |
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121 guild | |
n.行会,同业公会,协会 | |
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122 questionable | |
adj.可疑的,有问题的 | |
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123 degenerate | |
v.退步,堕落;adj.退步的,堕落的;n.堕落者 | |
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124 entirely | |
ad.全部地,完整地;完全地,彻底地 | |
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125 advisers | |
顾问,劝告者( adviser的名词复数 ); (指导大学新生学科问题等的)指导教授 | |
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126 prey | |
n.被掠食者,牺牲者,掠食;v.捕食,掠夺,折磨 | |
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127 prone | |
adj.(to)易于…的,很可能…的;俯卧的 | |
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128 analytical | |
adj.分析的;用分析法的 | |
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129 purely | |
adv.纯粹地,完全地 | |
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130 anecdotes | |
n.掌故,趣闻,轶事( anecdote的名词复数 ) | |
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131 anecdote | |
n.轶事,趣闻,短故事 | |
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132 pottery | |
n.陶器,陶器场 | |
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133 inscriptions | |
(作者)题词( inscription的名词复数 ); 献词; 碑文; 证劵持有人的登记 | |
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134 inscription | |
n.(尤指石块上的)刻印文字,铭文,碑文 | |
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135 cryptic | |
adj.秘密的,神秘的,含义模糊的 | |
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136 excavated | |
v.挖掘( excavate的过去式和过去分词 );开凿;挖出;发掘 | |
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137 hesitation | |
n.犹豫,踌躇 | |
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138 obliterated | |
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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139 reconstructions | |
重建( reconstruction的名词复数 ); 再现; 重建物; 复原物 | |
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140 riddle | |
n.谜,谜语,粗筛;vt.解谜,给…出谜,筛,检查,鉴定,非难,充满于;vi.出谜 | |
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141 perfectly | |
adv.完美地,无可非议地,彻底地 | |
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142 asses | |
n. 驴,愚蠢的人,臀部 adv. (常用作后置)用于贬损或骂人 | |
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143 lampooning | |
v.冷嘲热讽,奚落( lampoon的现在分词 ) | |
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144 illustrates | |
给…加插图( illustrate的第三人称单数 ); 说明; 表明; (用示例、图画等)说明 | |
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145 mania | |
n.疯狂;躁狂症,狂热,癖好 | |
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146 quotations | |
n.引用( quotation的名词复数 );[商业]行情(报告);(货物或股票的)市价;时价 | |
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147 poetic | |
adj.富有诗意的,有诗人气质的,善于抒情的 | |
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148 impartially | |
adv.公平地,无私地 | |
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149 divulge | |
v.泄漏(秘密等);宣布,公布 | |
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150 majestic | |
adj.雄伟的,壮丽的,庄严的,威严的,崇高的 | |
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151 perilous | |
adj.危险的,冒险的 | |
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152 justified | |
a.正当的,有理的 | |
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153 costly | |
adj.昂贵的,价值高的,豪华的 | |
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154 supreme | |
adj.极度的,最重要的;至高的,最高的 | |
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155 disdain | |
n.鄙视,轻视;v.轻视,鄙视,不屑 | |
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156 confided | |
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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157 canvasses | |
n.检票员,游说者,推销员( canvass的名词复数 )v.(在政治方面)游说( canvass的第三人称单数 );调查(如选举前选民的)意见;为讨论而提出(意见等);详细检查 | |
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158 tableau | |
n.画面,活人画(舞台上活人扮的静态画面) | |
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159 promptly | |
adv.及时地,敏捷地 | |
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160 esteemed | |
adj.受人尊敬的v.尊敬( esteem的过去式和过去分词 );敬重;认为;以为 | |
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161 exuberant | |
adj.充满活力的;(植物)繁茂的 | |
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162 versatile | |
adj.通用的,万用的;多才多艺的,多方面的 | |
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163 exacting | |
adj.苛求的,要求严格的 | |
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164 delineation | |
n.记述;描写 | |
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165 appreciation | |
n.评价;欣赏;感谢;领会,理解;价格上涨 | |
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