It was John Moir (the well-known senior partner of Moir, Moir, and Sanderson) who had originally turned our attention to occult subjects. He had, like many very hard and practical men of business, a mystic side to his nature, which had led him to the examination, and eventually to the acceptance, of those elusive7 phenomena8 which are grouped together with much that is foolish, and much that is fraudulent, under the common heading of spiritualism. His researches, which had begun with an open mind, ended unhappily in 130dogma, and he became as positive and fanatical as any other bigot. He represented in our little group the body of men who have turned these singular phenomena into a new religion.
Mrs. Delamere, our medium, was his sister, the wife of Delamere, the rising sculptor9. Our experience had shown us that to work on these subjects without a medium was as futile10 as for an astronomer11 to make observations without a telescope. On the other hand, the introduction of a paid medium was hateful to all of us. Was it not obvious that he or she would feel bound to return some result for money received, and that the temptation to fraud would be an overpowering one? No phenomena could be relied upon which were produced at a guinea an hour. But, fortunately, Moir had discovered that his sister was mediumistic—in other words, that she was a battery of that animal magnetic force which is the only form of energy which is subtle enough to be acted upon from the spiritual plane as well as from our own material one. Of course, when I say this, I do not mean to beg the question; but I am simply indicating the theories upon which we were ourselves, rightly or wrongly, explaining what we saw. The lady came, not altogether with the approval of her husband, and though she never gave indications of any very great psychic12 force, we were able, at least, to obtain those usual phenomena of message-tilting which are at the same time so puerile14 and so inexplicable15. Every Sunday evening we met in Harvey Deacon’s studio at Badderly Gardens, the next house to the corner of Merton Park Road.
Harvey Deacon’s imaginative work in art would 131prepare any one to find that he was an ardent16 lover of everything which was outré and sensational17. A certain picturesqueness18 in the study of the occult had been the quality which had originally attracted him to it, but his attention was speedily arrested by some of those phenomena to which I have referred, and he was coming rapidly to the conclusion that what he had looked upon as an amusing romance and an after-dinner entertainment was really a very formidable reality. He is a man with a remarkably19 clear and logical brain—a true descendant of his ancestor, the well-known Scotch20 professor—and he represented in our small circle the critical element, the man who has no prejudices, is prepared to follow facts as far as he can see them, and refuses to theorize in advance of his data. His caution annoyed Moir as much as the latter’s robust21 faith amused Deacon, but each in his own way was equally keen upon the matter.
And I? What am I to say that I represented? I was not the devotee. I was not the scientific critic. Perhaps the best that I can claim for myself is that I was the dilettante22 man about town, anxious to be in the swim of every fresh movement, thankful for any new sensation which would take me out of myself and open up fresh possibilities of existence. I am not an enthusiast23 myself, but I like the company of those who are. Moir’s talk, which made me feel as if we had a private pass-key through the door of death, filled me with a vague contentment. The soothing24 atmosphere of the séance with the darkened lights was delightful25 to me. In a word, the thing amused me, and so I was there.
132It was, as I have said, upon the 14th of April last that the very singular event which I am about to put upon record took place. I was the first of the men to arrive at the studio, but Mrs. Delamere was already there, having had afternoon tea with Mrs. Harvey Deacon. The two ladies and Deacon himself were standing26 in front of an unfinished picture of his upon the easel. I am not an expert in art, and I have never professed27 to understand what Harvey Deacon meant by his pictures; but I could see in this instance that it was all very clever and imaginative, fairies and animals and allegorical figures of all sorts. The ladies were loud in their praises, and indeed the colour effect was a remarkable28 one.
“What do you think of it, Markham?” he asked.
“Well, it’s above me,” said I. “These beasts—what are they?”
“Mythical monsters, imaginary creatures, heraldic emblems—a sort of weird29, bizarre procession of them.”
“With a white horse in front!”
“It’s not a horse,” said he, rather testily—which was surprising, for he was a very good-humoured fellow as a rule, and hardly ever took himself seriously.
“What is it, then?”
“Can’t you see the horn in front? It’s a unicorn30. I told you they were heraldic beasts. Can’t you recognize one?”
“Very sorry, Deacon,” said I, for he really seemed to be annoyed.
He laughed at his own irritation31.
“Excuse me, Markham!” said he; “the fact is 133that I have had an awful job over the beast. All day I have been painting him in and painting him out, and trying to imagine what a real live, ramping32 unicorn would look like. At last I got him, as I hoped; so when you failed to recognize it, it took me on the raw.”
“Why, of course it’s a unicorn,” said I, for he was evidently depressed33 at my obtuseness34. “I can see the horn quite plainly, but I never saw a unicorn except beside the Royal Arms, and so I never thought of the creature. And these others are griffins and cockatrices, and dragons of sorts?”
“Yes, I had no difficulty with them. It was the unicorn which bothered me. However, there’s an end of it until to-morrow.” He turned the picture round upon the easel, and we all chatted about other subjects.
Moir was late that evening, and when he did arrive he brought with him, rather to our surprise, a small, stout35 Frenchman, whom he introduced as Monsieur Paul Le Duc. I say to our surprise, for we held a theory that any intrusion into our spiritual circle deranged36 the conditions, and introduced an element of suspicion. We knew that we could trust each other, but all our results were vitiated by the presence of an outsider. However, Moir soon reconciled us to the innovation. Monsieur Paul Le Duc was a famous student of occultism, a seer, a medium, and a mystic. He was travelling in England with a letter of introduction to Moir from the President of the Parisian brothers of the Rosy37 Cross. What more natural than that he should bring him to our 134little séance, or that we should feel honoured by his presence?
He was, as I have said, a small, stout man, undistinguished in appearance, with a broad, smooth, clean-shaven face, remarkable only for a pair of large, brown, velvety38 eyes, staring vaguely39 out in front of him. He was well dressed, with the manners of a gentleman, and his curious little turns of English speech set the ladies smiling. Mrs. Deacon had a prejudice against our researches and left the room, upon which we lowered the lights, as was our custom, and drew up our chairs to the square mahogany table which stood in the centre of the studio. The light was subdued40, but sufficient to allow us to see each other quite plainly. I remember that I could even observe the curious, podgy little square-topped hands which the Frenchman laid upon the table.
“What a fun!” said he. “It is many years since I have sat in this fashion, and it is to me amusing. Madame is medium. Does madame make the trance?”
“Well, hardly that,” said Mrs. Delamere. “But I am always conscious of extreme sleepiness.”
“It is the first stage. Then you encourage it, and there comes the trance. When the trance comes, then out jumps your little spirit and in jumps another little spirit, and so you have direct talking or writing. You leave your machine to be worked by another. Hein? But what have unicorns41 to do with it?”
Harvey Deacon started in his chair. The Frenchman was moving his head slowly round and staring into the shadows which draped the walls.
135“What a fun!” said he. “Always unicorns. Who has been thinking so hard upon a subject so bizarre?”
“This is wonderful!” cried Deacon. “I have been trying to paint one all day. But how could you know it?”
“You have been thinking of them in this room.”
“Certainly.”
“But thoughts are things, my friend. When you imagine a thing you make a thing. You did not know it, hein? But I can see your unicorns because it is not only with my eye that I can see.”
“Do you mean to say that I create a thing which has never existed by merely thinking of it?”
“But certainly. It is the fact which lies under all other facts. That is why an evil thought is also a danger.”
“They are, I suppose, upon the astral plane?” said Moir.
“Ah, well, these are but words, my friends. They are there—somewhere—everywhere—I cannot tell myself. I see them. I could not touch them.”
“You could not make us see them.”
“It is to materialize them. Hold! It is an experiment. But the power is wanting. Let us see what power we have, and then arrange what we shall do. May I place you as I should wish?”
“You evidently know a great deal more about it than we do,” said Harvey Deacon; “I wish that you would take complete control.”
“It may be that the conditions are not good. But we will try what we can do. Madame will sit where 136she is, I next, and this gentleman beside me. Meester Moir will sit next to madame, because it is well to have blacks and blondes in turn. So! And now with your permission I will turn the lights all out.”
“What is the advantage of the dark?” I asked.
“Because the force with which we deal is a vibration42 of ether and so also is light. We have the wires all for ourselves now—hein? You will not be frightened in the darkness, madame? What a fun is such a séance!”
At first the darkness appeared to be absolutely pitchy, but in a few minutes our eyes became so far accustomed to it that we could just make out each other’s presence—very dimly and vaguely, it is true. I could see nothing else in the room—only the black loom43 of the motionless figures. We were all taking the matter much more seriously than we had ever done before.
“You will place your hands in front. It is hopeless that we touch, since we are so few round so large a table. You will compose yourself, madame, and if sleep should come to you you will not fight against it. And now we sit in silence and we expect——hein?”
So we sat in silence and expected, staring out into the blackness in front of us. A clock ticked in the passage. A dog barked intermittently44 far away. Once or twice a cab rattled45 past in the street, and the gleam of its lamps through the chink in the curtains was a cheerful break in that gloomy vigil. I felt those physical symptoms with which previous séances had made me familiar—the coldness of the feet, the tingling47 137in the hands, the glow of the palms, the feeling of a cold wind upon the back. Strange little shooting pains came in my forearms, especially as it seemed to me in my left one, which was nearest to our visitor—due no doubt to disturbance48 of the vascular49 system, but worthy50 of some attention all the same. At the same time I was conscious of a strained feeling of expectancy51 which was almost painful. From the rigid52, absolute silence of my companions I gathered that their nerves were as tense as my own.
And then suddenly a sound came out of the darkness—a low, sibilant sound, the quick, thin breathing of a woman. Quicker and thinner yet it came, as between clenched53 teeth, to end in a loud gasp54 with a dull rustle55 of cloth.
“What’s that? Is all right?” someone asked in the darkness.
“Yes, all is right,” said the Frenchman. “It is madame. She is in her trance. Now, gentlemen, if you will wait quiet you will see something, I think, which will interest you much.”
Still the ticking in the hall. Still the breathing, deeper and fuller now, from the medium. Still the occasional flash, more welcome than ever, of the passing lights of the hansoms. What a gap we were bridging, the half-raised veil of the eternal on the one side and the cabs of London on the other. The table was throbbing56 with a mighty57 pulse. It swayed steadily58, rhythmically59, with an easy swooping60, scooping61 motion under our fingers. Sharp little raps and cracks came from its substance, file-firing, volley-firing, the sounds of a fagot burning briskly on a frosty night.
138“There is much power,” said the Frenchman. “See it on the table!”
I had thought it was some delusion62 of my own, but all could see it now. There was a greenish-yellow phosphorescent light—or I should say a luminous63 vapour rather than a light—which lay over the surface of the table. It rolled and wreathed and undulated in dim glimmering64 folds, turning and swirling65 like clouds of smoke. I could see the white, square-ended hands of the French medium in this baleful light.
“What a fun!” he cried. “It is splendid!”
“Shall we call the alphabet?” asked Moir.
“But no—for we can do much better,” said our visitor. “It is but a clumsy thing to tilt13 the table for every letter of the alphabet, and with such a medium as madame we should do better than that.”
“Yes, you will do better,” said a voice.
“Who was that? Who spoke66? Was that you, Markham?”
“No, I did not speak.”
“It was madame who spoke.”
“But it was not her voice.”
“Is that you, Mrs. Delamere?”
“It is not the medium, but it is the power which uses the organs of the medium,” said the strange, deep voice.
“Where is Mrs. Delamere? It will not hurt her, I trust.”
“The medium is happy in another plane of existence. She has taken my place, as I have taken hers.”
“Who are you?”
139“It cannot matter to you who I am. I am one who has lived as you are living, and who has died as you will die.”
We heard the creak and grate of a cab pulling up next door. There was an argument about the fare, and the cabman grumbled67 hoarsely68 down the street. The green-yellow cloud still swirled69 faintly over the table, dull elsewhere, but glowing into a dim luminosity in the direction of the medium. It seemed to be piling itself up in front of her. A sense of fear and cold struck into my heart. It seemed to me that lightly and flippantly we had approached the most real and august of sacraments, that communion with the dead of which the fathers of the Church had spoken.
“Don’t you think we are going too far? Should we not break up this séance?” I cried.
But the others were all earnest to see the end of it. They laughed at my scruples70.
“All the powers are made for use,” said Harvey Deacon. “If we can do this, we should do this. Every new departure of knowledge has been called unlawful in its inception71. It is right and proper that we should inquire into the nature of death.”
“It is right and proper,” said the voice.
“There, what more could you ask?” cried Moir, who was much excited. “Let us have a test. Will you give us a test that you are really there?”
“What test do you demand?”
“Well, now—I have some coins in my pocket. Will you tell me how many?”
“We come back in the hope of teaching and of elevating, and not to guess childish riddles72.”
140“Ha, ha, Meester Moir, you catch it that time,” cried the Frenchman. “But surely this is very good sense what the Control is saying.”
“It is a religion, not a game,” said the cold, hard voice.
“Exactly—the very view I take of it,” cried Moir. “I am sure I am very sorry if I have asked a foolish question. You will not tell me who you are?”
“What does it matter?”
“Have you been a spirit long?”
“Yes.”
“How long?”
“We cannot reckon time as you do. Our conditions are different.”
“Are you happy?”
“Yes.”
“You would not wish to come back to life?”
“No—certainly not.”
“Are you busy?”
“We could not be happy if we were not busy.”
“What do you do?”
“I have said that the conditions are entirely73 different.”
“Can you give us no idea of your work?”
“We labour for our own improvement and for the advancement74 of others.”
“Do you like coming here to-night?”
“I am glad to come if I can do any good by coming.”
“Then to do good is your object?”
“It is the object of all life on every plane.”
141“You see, Markham, that should answer your scruples.”
It did, for my doubts had passed and only interest remained.
“Have you pain in your life?” I asked.
“No; pain is a thing of the body.”
“Have you mental pain?”
“Yes; one may always be sad or anxious.”
“Do you meet the friends whom you have known on earth?”
“Some of them.”
“Why only some of them?”
“Only those who are sympathetic.”
“Do husbands meet wives?”
“Those who have truly loved.”
“And the others?”
“They are nothing to each other.”
“There must be a spiritual connection?”
“Of course.”
“Is what we are doing right?”
“If done in the right spirit.”
“What is the wrong spirit?”
“Curiosity and levity75.”
“May harm come of that?”
“Very serious harm.”
“What sort of harm?”
“You may call up forces over which you have no control.”
“Evil forces?”
“Undeveloped forces.”
“You say they are dangerous. Dangerous to body or mind?”
142“Sometimes to both.”
There was a pause, and the blackness seemed to grow blacker still, while the yellow-green fog swirled and smoked upon the table.
“Any questions you would like to ask, Moir?” said Harvey Deacon.
“Only this—do you pray in your world?”
“One should pray in every world.”
“Why?”
“Because it is the acknowledgment of forces outside ourselves.”
“What religion do you hold over there?”
“We differ exactly as you do.”
“You have no certain knowledge?”
“We have only faith.”
“These questions of religion,” said the Frenchman, “they are of interest to you serious English people, but they are not so much fun. It seems to me that with this power here we might be able to have some great experience—hein? Something of which we could talk.”
“But nothing could be more interesting than this,” said Moir.
“Well, if you think so, that is very well,” the Frenchman answered, peevishly76. “For my part, it seems to me that I have heard all this before, and that to-night I should weesh to try some experiment with all this force which is given to us. But if you have other questions, then ask them, and when you are finish we can try something more.”
But the spell was broken. We asked and asked, but the medium sat silent in her chair. Only her 143deep, regular breathing showed that she was there. The mist still swirled upon the table.
“You have disturbed the harmony. She will not answer.”
“But we have learned already all that she can tell—hein? For my part I wish to see something that I have never seen before.”
“What then?”
“You will let me try?”
“What would you do?”
“I have said to you that thoughts are things. Now I wish to prove it to you, and to show you that which is only a thought. Yes, yes, I can do it and you will see. Now I ask you only to sit still and say nothing, and keep ever your hands quiet upon the table.”
The room was blacker and more silent than ever. The same feeling of apprehension77 which had lain heavily upon me at the beginning of the séance was back at my heart once more. The roots of my hair were tingling.
“It is working! It is working!” cried the Frenchman, and there was a crack in his voice as he spoke which told me that he also was strung to his tightest.
The luminous fog drifted slowly off the table, and wavered and flickered78 across the room. There in the farther and darkest corner it gathered and glowed, hardening down into a shining core—a strange, shifty, luminous, and yet non-illuminating patch of radiance, bright itself, but throwing no rays into the darkness. It had changed from a greenish-yellow to a 144dusky sullen79 red. Then round this centre there coiled a dark, smoky substance, thickening, hardening, growing denser80 and blacker. And then the light went out, smothered82 in that which had grown round it.
“It has gone.”
“Hush—there’s something in the room.”
We heard it in the corner where the light had been, something which breathed deeply and fidgeted in the darkness.
“What is it? Le Duc, what have you done?”
“It is all right. No harm will come.” The Frenchman’s voice was treble with agitation83.
“Good heavens, Moir, there’s a large animal in the room. Here it is, close by my chair! Go away! Go away!”
It was Harvey Deacon’s voice, and then came the sound of a blow upon some hard object. And then ... And then ... how can I tell you what happened then?
Some huge thing hurtled against us in the darkness, rearing, stamping, smashing, springing, snorting. The table was splintered. We were scattered84 in every direction. It clattered85 and scrambled86 amongst us, rushing with horrible energy from one corner of the room to another. We were all screaming with fear, grovelling87 upon our hands and knees to get away from it. Something trod upon my left hand, and I felt the bones splinter under the weight.
“A light! A light!” someone yelled.
“Moir, you have matches, matches!”
“No, I have none. Deacon, where are the matches? For God’s sake, the matches!”
145“I can’t find them. Here, you Frenchman, stop it!”
“It is beyond me. Oh, mon Dieu, I cannot stop it. The door! Where is the door?”
My hand, by good luck, lit upon the handle as I groped about in the darkness. The hard-breathing, snorting, rushing creature tore past me and butted88 with a fearful crash against the oaken partition. The instant that it had passed I turned the handle, and next moment we were all outside and the door shut behind us. From within came a horrible crashing and rending89 and stamping.
“What is it? In Heaven’s name, what is it?”
“A horse. I saw it when the door opened. But Mrs. Delamere——?”
“We must fetch her out. Come on, Markham; the longer we wait the less we shall like it.”
He flung open the door and we rushed in. She was there on the ground amidst the splinters of her chair. We seized her and dragged her swiftly out, and as we gained the door I looked over my shoulder into the darkness. There were two strange eyes glowing at us, a rattle46 of hoofs90, and I had just time to slam the door when there came a crash upon it which split it from top to bottom.
“It’s coming through! It’s coming!”
“Run, run for your lives!” cried the Frenchman.
Another crash, and something shot through the riven door. It was a long white spike91, gleaming in the lamplight. For a moment it shone before us, and then with a snap it disappeared again.
146“Quick! Quick! This way!” Harvey Deacon shouted. “Carry her in! Here! Quick!”
We had taken refuge in the dining-room, and shut the heavy oak door. We laid the senseless woman upon the sofa, and as we did so, Moir, the hard man of business, drooped92 and fainted across the hearthrug. Harvey Deacon was as white as a corpse93, jerking and twitching94 like an epileptic. With a crash we heard the studio door fly to pieces, and the snorting and stamping were in the passage, up and down, up and down, shaking the house with their fury. The Frenchman had sunk his face on his hands, and sobbed95 like a frightened child.
“What shall we do?” I shook him roughly by the shoulder. “Is a gun any use?”
“No, no. The power will pass. Then it will end.”
“You might have killed us all—you unspeakable fool—with your infernal experiments.”
“I did not know. How could I tell that it would be frightened? It is mad with terror. It was his fault. He struck it.”
Harvey Deacon sprang up. “Good heavens!” he cried.
A terrible scream sounded through the house.
“It’s my wife! Here, I’m going out. If it’s the Evil One himself I am going out!”
He had thrown open the door and rushed out into the passage. At the end of it, at the foot of the stairs, Mrs. Deacon was lying senseless, struck down by the sight which she had seen. But there was nothing else.
147With eyes of horror we looked about us, but all was perfectly96 quiet and still. I approached the black square of the studio door, expecting with every slow step that some atrocious shape would hurl97 itself out of it. But nothing came, and all was silent inside the room. Peeping and peering, our hearts in our mouths, we came to the very threshold, and stared into the darkness. There was still no sound, but in one direction there was also no darkness. A luminous, glowing cloud, with an incandescent98 centre, hovered99 in the corner of the room. Slowly it dimmed and faded, growing thinner and fainter, until at last the same dense81, velvety blackness filled the whole studio. And with the last flickering100 gleam of that baleful light the Frenchman broke into a shout of joy.
“What a fun!” he cried. “No one is hurt, and only the door broken, and the ladies frightened. But, my friends, we have done what has never been done before.”
“And as far as I can help it,” said Harvey Deacon, “it will certainly never be done again.”
And that was what befell on the 14th of April last at No. 17, Badderly Gardens. I began by saying that it would seem too grotesque to dogmatize as to what it was which actually did occur; but I give my impressions, our impressions (since they are corroborated101 by Harvey Deacon and John Moir), for what they are worth. You may, if it pleases you, imagine that we were the victims of an elaborate and extraordinary hoax102. Or you may think with us that we underwent a very real and a very terrible experience. Or perhaps you may know more than 148we do of such occult matters, and can inform us of some similar occurrence. In this latter case a letter to William Markham, 146M, The Albany, would help to throw a light upon that which is very dark to us.
点击
收听单词发音
收听单词发音 |
1
surmise
|
|
| v./n.猜想，推测 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
2
grotesque
|
|
| adj.怪诞的，丑陋的；n.怪诞的图案，怪人（物） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
3
testimony
|
|
| n.证词；见证，证明 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
4
speculation
|
|
| n.思索，沉思；猜测；投机 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
5
withheld
|
|
| withhold过去式及过去分词 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
6
corroborate
|
|
| v.支持，证实，确定 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
7
elusive
|
|
| adj.难以表达(捉摸)的；令人困惑的；逃避的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
8
phenomena
|
|
| n.现象 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
9
sculptor
|
|
| n.雕刻家，雕刻家 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
10
futile
|
|
| adj.无效的，无用的，无希望的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
11
astronomer
|
|
| n.天文学家 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
12
psychic
|
|
| n.对超自然力敏感的人；adj.有超自然力的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
13
tilt
|
|
| v.(使)倾侧；(使)倾斜；n.倾侧；倾斜 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
14
puerile
|
|
| adj.幼稚的，儿童的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
15
inexplicable
|
|
| adj.无法解释的，难理解的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
16
ardent
|
|
| adj.热情的，热烈的，强烈的，烈性的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
17
sensational
|
|
| adj.使人感动的，非常好的，轰动的，耸人听闻的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
18
picturesqueness
|
|
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
19
remarkably
|
|
| ad.不同寻常地，相当地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
20
scotch
|
|
| n.伤口，刻痕；苏格兰威士忌酒；v.粉碎，消灭，阻止；adj.苏格兰(人)的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
21
robust
|
|
| adj.强壮的，强健的，粗野的，需要体力的，浓的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
22
dilettante
|
|
| n.半瓶醋，业余爱好者 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
23
enthusiast
|
|
| n.热心人，热衷者 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
24
soothing
|
|
| adj.慰藉的；使人宽心的；镇静的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
25
delightful
|
|
| adj.令人高兴的，使人快乐的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
26
standing
|
|
| n.持续，地位；adj.永久的，不动的，直立的，不流动的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
27
professed
|
|
| 公开声称的，伪称的，已立誓信教的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
28
remarkable
|
|
| adj.显著的，异常的，非凡的，值得注意的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
29
weird
|
|
| adj.古怪的，离奇的；怪诞的，神秘而可怕的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
30
unicorn
|
|
| n.(传说中的)独角兽 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
31
irritation
|
|
| n.激怒，恼怒，生气 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
32
ramping
|
|
| 土堤斜坡( ramp的现在分词 )； 斜道； 斜路； （装车或上下飞机的）活动梯 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
33
depressed
|
|
| adj.沮丧的，抑郁的，不景气的，萧条的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
34
obtuseness
|
|
| 感觉迟钝 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
36
deranged
|
|
| adj.疯狂的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
37
rosy
|
|
| adj.美好的，乐观的，玫瑰色的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
38
velvety
|
|
| adj. 像天鹅绒的, 轻软光滑的, 柔软的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
39
vaguely
|
|
| adv.含糊地，暖昧地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
40
subdued
|
|
| adj. 屈服的，柔和的，减弱的 动词subdue的过去式和过去分词 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
41
unicorns
|
|
| n.（传说中身体似马的）独角兽( unicorn的名词复数 )；一角鲸；独角兽标记 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
42
vibration
|
|
| n.颤动，振动；摆动 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
43
loom
|
|
| n.织布机，织机；v.隐现，(危险、忧虑等)迫近 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
44
intermittently
|
|
| adv.间歇地；断断续续 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
45
rattled
|
|
| 慌乱的，恼火的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
46
rattle
|
|
| v.飞奔，碰响；激怒；n.碰撞声；拨浪鼓 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
47
tingling
|
|
| v.有刺痛感( tingle的现在分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
48
disturbance
|
|
| n.动乱，骚动；打扰，干扰；(身心)失调 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
49
vascular
|
|
| adj.血管的，脉管的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
50
worthy
|
|
| adj.(of)值得的，配得上的；有价值的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
51
expectancy
|
|
| n.期望，预期，（根据概率统计求得）预期数额 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
52
rigid
|
|
| adj.严格的，死板的；刚硬的，僵硬的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
53
clenched
|
|
| v.紧握，抓紧，咬紧( clench的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
54
gasp
|
|
| n.喘息，气喘；v.喘息；气吁吁他说 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
55
rustle
|
|
| v.沙沙作响；偷盗(牛、马等)；n.沙沙声声 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
56
throbbing
|
|
| a. 跳动的,悸动的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
57
mighty
|
|
| adj.强有力的；巨大的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
58
steadily
|
|
| adv.稳定地；不变地；持续地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
59
rhythmically
|
|
| adv.有节奏地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
60
swooping
|
|
| 俯冲，猛冲( swoop的现在分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
61
scooping
|
|
| n.捞球v.抢先报道( scoop的现在分词 )；（敏捷地）抱起；抢先获得；用铲[勺]等挖（洞等） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
62
delusion
|
|
| n.谬见，欺骗，幻觉，迷惑 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
63
luminous
|
|
| adj.发光的，发亮的；光明的；明白易懂的；有启发的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
64
glimmering
|
|
| 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 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
65
swirling
|
|
| v.旋转，打旋( swirl的现在分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
66
spoke
|
|
| 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 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
67
grumbled
|
|
| 抱怨( grumble的过去式和过去分词 )； 发牢骚； 咕哝； 发哼声 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
68
hoarsely
|
|
| adv.嘶哑地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
69
swirled
|
|
| v.旋转，打旋( swirl的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
70
scruples
|
|
| n.良心上的不安( scruple的名词复数 )；顾虑，顾忌v.感到于心不安，有顾忌( scruple的第三人称单数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
71
inception
|
|
| n.开端，开始，取得学位 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
72
riddles
|
|
| n.谜（语）( riddle的名词复数 )；猜不透的难题，难解之谜 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
73
entirely
|
|
| ad.全部地，完整地；完全地，彻底地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
74
advancement
|
|
| n.前进，促进，提升 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
75
levity
|
|
| n.轻率，轻浮，不稳定，多变 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
76
peevishly
|
|
| adv．暴躁地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
77
apprehension
|
|
| n.理解，领悟；逮捕，拘捕；忧虑 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
78
flickered
|
|
| （通常指灯光）闪烁，摇曳( flicker的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
79
sullen
|
|
| adj.愠怒的，闷闷不乐的，(天气等)阴沉的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
80
denser
|
|
| adj. 不易看透的, 密集的, 浓厚的, 愚钝的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
81
dense
|
|
| a.密集的，稠密的，浓密的；密度大的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
82
smothered
|
|
| （使）窒息， （使）透不过气( smother的过去式和过去分词 )； 覆盖； 忍住； 抑制 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
83
agitation
|
|
| n.搅动；搅拌；鼓动，煽动 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
84
scattered
|
|
| adj.分散的，稀疏的；散步的；疏疏落落的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
85
clattered
|
|
| 发出咔哒声（clatter的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
86
scrambled
|
|
| v.快速爬行( scramble的过去式和过去分词 )；攀登；争夺；（军事飞机）紧急起飞 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
87
grovelling
|
|
| adj.卑下的，奴颜婢膝的v.卑躬屈节，奴颜婢膝( grovel的现在分词 )；趴 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
88
butted
|
|
| 对接的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
89
rending
|
|
| v.撕碎( rend的现在分词 )；分裂；（因愤怒、痛苦等而）揪扯（衣服或头发等）；（声音等）刺破 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
90
hoofs
|
|
| n.（兽的）蹄，马蹄( hoof的名词复数 )v.（兽的）蹄，马蹄( hoof的第三人称单数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
91
spike
|
|
| n.长钉，钉鞋；v.以大钉钉牢，使...失效 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
92
drooped
|
|
| 弯曲或下垂，发蔫( droop的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
93
corpse
|
|
| n.尸体，死尸 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
94
twitching
|
|
| n.颤搐 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
95
sobbed
|
|
| 哭泣，啜泣( sob的过去式和过去分词 )； 哭诉，呜咽地说 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
96
perfectly
|
|
| adv.完美地，无可非议地，彻底地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
97
hurl
|
|
| vt.猛投，力掷，声叫骂 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
98
incandescent
|
|
| adj.遇热发光的， 白炽的，感情强烈的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
99
hovered
|
|
| 鸟( hover的过去式和过去分词 )； 靠近（某事物）； （人）徘徊； 犹豫 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
100
flickering
|
|
| adj.闪烁的，摇曳的，一闪一闪的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
101
corroborated
|
|
| v.证实，支持（某种说法、信仰、理论等）( corroborate的过去式 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
102
hoax
|
|
| v.欺骗，哄骗，愚弄；n.愚弄人，恶作剧 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
| 欢迎访问英文小说网 |