“Of all the luck!” One of the girls, a tall brunette, grinned as she shook her head in mock despair. “Here it is, the middle of the worst winter we’ve had in years, and what do I draw as my new assignment? New York to Chicago! The two coldest towns in the world! And you two, you lucky kids, get the Florida run!”
Vicki Barr tucked a strand6 of her ash blond hair2 in place, and her laugh tinkled7 like Chinese chimes stirred by a gentle breeze.
“Your trouble, Sue,” she said, “is that you don’t wish on stars. Now the other night, flying down from Boston, I looked out the window and there was Venus hanging up in the sky as bright and pretty as you please. So I just said, ‘Star light, star bright, first star I’ve seen tonight, I wish I may, I wish I might get the wish I wish tonight ...’”
“Oh, now, go away!”
“No. I really mean it. I said, ‘I wish I am assigned to the Florida run.’ And the next morning the Chief Stewardess3 called me into her office and told me that my new assignment was New York to Tampa.”
Sue chuckled8. “Vicki, you little vixen, I don’t know whether to believe you or not. But just the same I envy you. When I think of Chicago in this weather ...” She shuddered9. “B-r-r-r-r! And I do mean B-r-r-r!”
“I envy you,” one of the other girls spoke10 up. “You kids are really going to have fun! I was reading the other day about the big pirate carnival11 they have every year about this time down in Tampa. It’s supposed to be as gay and giddy as the New Orleans Mardi Gras.”
“That’s the Gasparilla Pirate Festival,” the fourth girl, Vicki’s co-stewardess, volunteered. Cathy Solms was a tall, slender girl about Vicki’s3 own age, with flaming red hair that contrasted sharply with the pale blue of her perky cap. “And you’re right. Vicki and I are going to have buckets of fun.” She winked12 at her flight partner and grinned. “By the way, Vicki, I wonder what big things are happening out in Chicago this winter.”
“Don’t rub it in,” Sue said. She glanced at the pattern of snow swirling13 up against the wide window. “If this keeps up, it doesn’t look as if any of us will get away from New York.”
“Maybe not you,” Vicki replied. “But we go out on schedule. I checked with operations as I came in, and south of Washington there’s not a snow cloud in the sky. Remember, it’s the weather at landing, not at take-off, that counts.”
At that moment, Johnny Baker14, copilot on Vicki’s flight, stuck his handsome, crew-cut blond head in the door.
“Let’s go, kids. No day off for you two,” he said with a wide grin. “We’re taking off on the nose. Meet you in five minutes at Gate Five.”
Vicki and Cathy picked up their flight bags and topcoats, and headed for the door that Johnny had closed after him.
“Give our love to the ice on Lake Michigan,” Cathy said over her shoulder.
“And don’t slip on the ice when you walk away from your ship,” Vicki added with a smile.
“Get out,” Sue said, “before we throw you out.4 And oh, yes,” she added, a smile twinkling in her eyes, “give our best to that pirate fellow!”
Four hours later the big DC-6-B four-engine plane put up its port wing as the pilot banked to swing into his landing pattern. Vicki, strapped15 in the stewardess’s jump seat for the landing, looked out the window at the tropical vista16 spread all around her. To her left, as the pilot banked, the window was filled with bright blue sky, cloudless except for a few white wisps that floated high overhead. Through the window across the aisle17, she could look down on the sand of the beaches, gleaming golden in the early afternoon sun, the vivid aquamarine blue of the waters of the Gulf18, and the crisp green of the lawns and gardens that surrounded the glistening19 white houses.
Then the plane straightened, passed over the busy streets of the old city, over the scattered20 houses in the suburbs, and at last the hangars and runways of Tampa International Airport swept into view over the leading edge of the wing. The big plane shuddered as Captain March, the senior pilot, lowered his wing flaps to check the landing speed. Then the runway rushed up to meet the ship, and there was a shrill21 whine22 as the tires hit the concrete strip.
In her natural element, the air, the huge plane was as effortless and graceful23 in flight as a soaring gull24. But on the ground, her wings vibrated5 and seemed to droop25, and she shook all over like some great, tired clumsy beast as she lumbered26 forward to the unloading gate.
The instant she felt the ship land and steady on its taxiing course, Vicki unfastened her seat belt and got to her feet, ready to help her passengers collect their things and get ready to disembark. Ten minutes later she and Cathy were standing27 in the open plane doorway28 saying good-by to the last of them, three small children, who, with their mother, had been making their first trip by air. The little girls had been fascinated by the flight, and Vicki had spent all of her spare minutes—which on a short flight like this one, and with hot lunches to be served to eighty passengers, were very few—answering their eager questions.
Then, rapidly, the two stewardesses checked through the big cabin for any belongings29 their passengers might have left behind.
“I hope our hotel is on the beach,” Cathy said, stopping for a moment to gaze out at the warm sunshine. “I can’t wait to start working on a Florida tan.”
“I’m staying with Louise Curtin’s family,” Vicki said. “At least for the first few trips.”
“Louise Curtin?”
“She was in my class at the University of Illinois,” Vicki explained. “Her family lives down here. When I wrote that I was going to be on the Tampa run, she phoned me the minute she got6 the letter and insisted that I absolutely must stay with them on my layovers.”
“It’s nice to have friends,” Cathy sighed. “Much better than a hotel room.”
Federal, like all other airlines, provided hotel accommodations for their crews when they were away from home. In New York, Vicki shared an apartment with several other Federal Airlines stewardesses.
“That reminds me. I have another friend in Tampa,” Vicki said. “I’ll have to look him up.”
“Ah!” Cathy said, brightening. “Do I smell romance in the air?”
Vicki laughed. “I hate to disappoint you, Cathy. But Joey Watson is a boy who works here in the Federal warehouse30. He’s an orphan31, poor kid, a cousin of Bill Avery, the pilot who taught me to fly.”
Cathy’s eyes widened. “To fly? Don’t tell me you’re a pilot as well as a stewardess!”
“I’ve had my private license32 for two years.” Vicki smiled. “But I don’t have a chance to get in much flying time when I’m in New York. Anyway,” she went on, “Joey was dying to learn to fly, and Bill asked me if I’d mind putting in a good word for him with Federal’s personnel department. There happened to be an opening here, and Joey got the job. So, you see, there goes your romance. I’m afraid Joey thinks of me more as a mother.”
Cathy surveyed Vicki’s slim, trim figure, looking7 her up and down with an expression of exaggerated appraisal33 on her face.
“You don’t look like the mother type to me, gal34.”
“All right.” Vicki chuckled. “Make it big sister if that suits you better.”
At that moment the door to the flight deck opened and Captain March entered the main cabin, followed by Johnny Baker, the copilot. The captain had a leather brief case tucked under his arm and both men carried blue canvas overnight bags stamped with the name and insignia of the airline.
“How did it go, girls?” the captain asked.
“Smooth as silk,” Vicki answered. “Everybody seemed to enjoy themselves, and one or two went out of their way to say so.”
“Fine,” the captain said briskly. “That’s good. Now let’s check in and get out to the hotel. I could use a swim.”
As the four crew members walked from the plane to Federal’s operations office in the airport building, Vicki explained to Captain March about her invitation to stay with the Curtins.
“And oh, yes,” she continued. “A young friend of mine works as a cargo35 handler in the freight warehouse.” She told the captain briefly36 about Joey Watson and how she had helped get him his job. “Do you suppose it will be all right if I go over and say hello?”
“I don’t see why not,” the captain replied.8 “Just be sure to check with the foreman first. They don’t like to have unauthorized personnel wandering around.”
A few minutes after they had made their routine check-in, Vicki said good-by to her fellow crew members and strolled leisurely37 in the direction of the big warehouse building.
A heavy-set man lounged in the warehouse doorway, holding a half-consumed bottle of coke in his hand. He looked quizzically at Vicki as she approached.
“Can you please tell me where I can find the foreman?” Vicki asked politely.
“You’re talkin’ to him,” the man said. His square-cut face was expressionless, neither friendly nor unfriendly.
“I’d like to see Joey Watson for a minute. Is he on duty this afternoon?”
“Yep. You a friend of his?”
Vicki put on her prettiest smile. “Well, sort of,” she said. “I haven’t seen him for some time, and if I may, I’d like to say hello.”
“Just a second,” the foreman said. “I’ll go get him.” He turned and disappeared into the huge building.
Vicki looked in through the open door. Piles of boxes, cartons, and bulky sacks stood stacked like islands on the big expanse of floor. Cargo handlers were busy sorting these, loading some on small motor carts and unloading others that had just been taken off incoming planes. Backed9 up at a long platform that ran the length of the opposite side of the building were half a dozen trucks waiting to pick up the cargo for local delivery. Other workmen weighed outgoing boxes and bales, and nailed cartons up more securely. The whole place had an air of quiet efficiency.
A tall, young figure dashed out of the dimness of the big room and ran up to Vicki, a big smile spread all across his eager face.
“Miss Vicki!” he cried breathlessly, holding out his hand. “I never expected to see you here!”
“Hi, Joey!” Vicki greeted him. She took his outstretched hand, and he pumped hers in a warm but excited handshake. “How’s the job going?”
“Swell38, Miss Vicki! Just swell!”
Joey Watson was eighteen, tall, thin, and with long arms that dangled39 awkwardly from his skinny shoulders. As he stood grinning contagiously40, he reminded Vicki of a friendly, energetic, oversized puppy. She couldn’t help grinning back at him.
“Well,” Vicki asked, “are there enough airplanes around here to suit you?”
“There sure are. I’d have taken any kind of job, even sweeping41 the place out, just to be around planes. And I can’t thank you enough for getting this one for me.”
Just then the dour42 foreman reappeared.
“Oh, Van,” Joey said eagerly, “I want you to meet Miss Vicki Barr. She’s a Federal stewardess10 and—” he added, his eyes shining, “a pilot.”
Van mumbled43 an acknowledgment of the introduction. “Don’t take too long a break, boy,” he said to Joey. “Ed will need you on his cart to meet the three-fifty flight from Dallas.”
The foreman nodded briskly to Vicki and walked off. Vicki looked after his wooden, uniformed figure. Was he naturally chilly44, or just a nose-to-the-grindstone type? Oh, well! It really didn’t matter. She’d probably never see him again. She turned her attention back to Joey.
“I’m afraid I’m not much of a pilot”—she smiled—“whatever you may think.”
Joey’s face wrinkled up in a grin. “Anyone who can fly is pretty big in my book.” He pointed45 to an area of concrete strip between the warehouse and a service hangar next door. “See that Beech46 sitting over there?”
A small, twin-engine Beechcraft stood on the strip. The cowling had been removed from one of her engine nacelles and a man stood on a step-ladder tinkering with the motor.
“That’s Steve Miller,” Joey said. “He’s a charter pilot here at the field, and he’s promised to teach me to fly.”
“Why, that’s wonderful!” Vicki exclaimed, her eyes twinkling with pleasure. She knew that being able to fly was the most important thing in the boy’s life.
“Steve’s the best,” Joey went on enthusiastically. “So’s Van Lasher—he’s the fellow I introduced11 you to just now. Gosh! Everybody around this airport is pretty swell.”
“You just naturally like everybody that has anything to do with airplanes, don’t you, Joey?”
“I sure do,” he admitted. “Say, Miss Vicki, how long did it take you to solo? Were you nervous the first time?”
Vicki smiled. “See here, young man, if we start talking flying you’ll never get back to work.”
“I guess you’re right,” the boy said, laughing. “It wouldn’t do to lose this job, now that I’m getting ready to be a fly boy for real.”
Vicki said good-by and promised to look Joey up again. Then she walked back to the airport building.
Even though it had become a common, everyday sight to her, an airport waiting room never failed to fascinate Vicki. And this one at Tampa was particularly interesting. Passengers from incoming planes carried heavy coats that they had worn when they had left the northern winter weather. Sometimes friends, tanned and wearing gay-colored sports clothes, were waiting to greet them.
Through the big picture window She could see the air taxis waiting at one end of the field. Anyone who wished to fly across Tampa Bay to Clearwater or St. Petersburg, or across the Caribbean to Cuba or Mexico, could charter a plane like the one Joey’s instructor—Steve Miller—flew. Everything seemed so easygoing and carefree12 here, Vicki thought, in this sun-kissed land where the breeze was scented47 with the perfume of flowers.
She stopped at the Federal reservations counter where she had left her bag, picked it up, and then went out the building’s main entrance to look for a taxi.
Twenty minutes later the taxi pulled up at the Curtins’ home, and Vicki, carrying her bag and topcoat, stepped out. She stopped for a moment, after she had paid her fare, to look at the dignified49 old house. It was red brick, old-fashioned and comfortable-looking, surrounded by a close-clipped lawn and rambling50 flower gardens. Two tall palm trees flanked it on either side. She opened the iron gate and walked down a flagstone path to the front door.
Before she could ring the bell, the door flew open and there stood Louise, looking more grownup than Vicki remembered her, with her dark hair done up in a chignon and a big smile of welcome on her beautiful, delicately tanned face. Louise had written that she was doing social work, but Vicki found it hard to believe that this lovely, vivacious51 girl could confine her energies to anything so unglamorous.
“Vicki! How wonderful to see you again!” Louise hugged her and then stepped back and appraised53 her. “You’ve changed!”
Vicki laughed. “It’s pretty wonderful to see13 you, too. But you don’t have to sound so accusing. You’ve changed yourself!”
“You’re so poised54 now, Vicki, and so très chic5 in that lovely blue uniform. I remember you used to be shy.”
“Still shy sometimes, and I’m très delighted to be at your house. You were darling to ask me. Are you actually a social worker these days? You, our southern belle55?”
“Only a volunteer, whenever the agency needs me. But tell me—”
A tall, slim figure ran lightly down a broad staircase at the end of the entrance hall.
“That’s enough of this college reunion stuff, Louise. Introduce your kid sister!”
Louise laughed, apologized, and introduced Nina. Nina managed to tell Vicki, all in one breath, that she was only a year younger than Louise, had left college to take a fashion job in a Tampa dress shop, and thought flight stewardesses “have the most glamorous52 job in the world.” When Vicki said her job involved some serious know-how56 about aviation and practical nursing, and dealing57 with people in general—and was not entirely58 glamorous—Nina refused to believe it.
“Sheer glamour,” she insisted. “Even better than being an actress. I’m sure of it.”
Louise looked amused and suggested that they had better invite their guest into the house. The14 girls showed Vicki to the guest room upstairs and waited, chattering59 about the plans they’d made for her, while she unpacked60 the few things she had brought with her and changed from her flight uniform into a bright cotton afternoon dress.
“Better bring more dresses on your next flight,” Nina warned. “You’ll need them for parties and going out.”
They went back downstairs to the living room, which in late afternoon was filled with cool shadows and perfumed with the fresh scent48 of flowers wafted61 in through the open windows.
“I’ll fix us something cool to drink,” Nina said, and disappeared. A few minutes later she reappeared with a tall, frosty pitcher62 of lemonade and three glasses on a tray.
“What does your sister do, Vicki?” Nina wanted to know. “College? Career? Romance?”
Vicki explained that Ginny was still in high school, and that her plans for the future kept changing from day to day as some new idea took her fancy.
Louise wanted to hear news about The Castle, the big rambling home of Vicki’s family in Fairview, Illinois, which got its name from the fact that its tower and balcony really did resemble a castle, and which Louise had visited as often as she could when she and Vicki were classmates at State University. She asked about Mrs. Barr’s rock garden; Freckles63, the Barr spaniel; and15 what news Professor Barr brought home from the university. Vicki answered the torrent64 of questions as best she could, for it had been several weeks since she had been home.
The three girls chattered65 on and on without noticing the time, and were surprised when a cheerful male voice broke into their conversation:
“Well, where is she? Where’s the little flier?”
A gray-haired man of medium height stood in the doorway to the room. He was dressed in a dark-blue business suit and wore heavy horn-rimmed glasses.
“Dad!” Louise cried, jumping up.
Vicki got to her feet and went forward, smiling, to take Mr. Curtin’s outstretched hand. He was just the sort of father she’d expected Louise to have—a substantial businessman, soft-spoken, cheerful, cordial, good-humored. The smile he gave Vicki in return was the very essence of southern hospitality.
“It’s nice of you to take in a stranger,” Vicki said.
“You won’t be a stranger in Tampa very long, Vicki,” Mr. Curtin answered. “We’ll see to that, won’t we, girls?”
He sat down and lighted a cigarette.
“You came to town at just the right time,” he said, exhaling66 a spiral of smoke that drifted upward and hung in a golden ray of late afternoon sunlight which slanted67 in through a window.16 “You’ll be here for the Gasparilla Pirate Festival.”
“Dad’s on the committee,” Nina said excitedly. “He’s going to be a pirate. And Louise and I are going to be se?oritas.”
Vicki smiled mischievously68. “I’m afraid you don’t look like a pirate to me, Mr. Curtin.”
“You just wait until you see me in a big, black beard, a patch over one eye, and a bandanna69 tied around my head. Maybe you’ll change your mind.”
“Dad looks simply ferocious70.” Louise grinned. “Why, he even frightens me!”
The four were talking and laughing gaily71 when the housekeeper72 came in to announce dinner. Mrs. Tucker was a large, comfortable-looking woman, with gray hair rolled into a knot on top of her head and wearing a crisply starched73 white dress. They followed her into the dining room and seated themselves at the table.
“I’m sorry Mother isn’t here to meet you, Vicki,” Louise said, as the housekeeper served the steaming dishes of food, “but she got a wire the other day saying that Grandma was ill, and she flew out to Oregon to see her.”
“Vicki will meet her when she returns,” Mr. Curtin said. “For I trust, young lady,” he said to Vicki, “that you will consider this your home whenever you are in Tampa.”
The pleasant conversation continued as they17 leisurely ate the delicious dinner. Inevitably74 it returned to the coming festival.
“One of the stewardesses was talking about it before we left New York,” Vicki said. “She said it was a sort of Mardi Gras, but that’s about all I know.”
“It’s an old tradition with us,” Mr. Curtin explained. “I think you might be interested in how it all started.”
“I certainly would,” Vicki answered. “It sounds intriguing75.”
“Well, about two hundred years ago, in 1783 to be exact, an officer in the Spanish Navy named José Gaspar mutinied and seized his warship76 the _Florida Blanca_. Then he turned pirate, changed his name to Gasparilla, meaning Little Gaspar, and began to prey77 on the merchant ships of all nations. He made his headquarters in the islands around Tampa Bay, and whenever a merchantman came by, he rushed out, captured it, killed the crew, stole the cargo, and then burned the ship.”
“And this cutthroat is the patron rogue78 of Tampa,” Nina put in. “Louise thinks it’s too disgraceful.”
“Oh, really, Nina. I never said quite that—”
Mr. Curtin laughed as he went on with the story.
“Be that as it may, old Gasparilla’s luck held out for thirty-eight years. Then, one day in 1821,18 he made a fatal mistake. He pounced79 on a lone80 brig which he thought was an unarmed merchantman, but it turned out to be an American warship, the U.S.S. Enterprise. And Gasparilla’s goose was cooked. Within minutes, his ship was a mass of flames.”
“So the Navy finally captured him?”
“Not Gasparilla! The old devil wrapped a heavy iron chain around his waist and leaped into the sea, still brandishing81 his cutlass.”
“And now Daddy is going to be a lovely, bloodthirsty pirate too,” Nina said impishly.
Mr. Curtin smiled. “I’d better tell Vicki the rest of the story before she thinks we’re all crazy down here. You see,” he continued, “since Gasparilla had made Tampa Bay his headquarters, we decided82 to use him as an excuse for a mid-winter festival and a week of fun. A group of Tampa businessmen formed an organization called Ye Mystic Krewe. You spell Krewe with a capital K and an e on the end. And aside from Festival Week, we’re as sedate83 as any Rotary84 Club.”
“You’re not very sedate when you capture Tampa,” Louise said.
“No,” Mr. Curtin admitted with a grin, “I’m afraid that for that particular week we turn into little boys again playing pirate. A few years ago we raised the money to build a full-rigged sailing ship, an exact replica85 of Gasparilla’s Florida Blanca. On Monday morning—this year it will19 be February tenth—we all dress up in pirate costumes, sail the José Gasparilla up the Bay, and capture Tampa. Then, for the rest of the week, everybody has fun—dancing in the streets, balls, torchlight parades. Then, on Saturday, we sail away and give Tampa a chance to catch its breath until next year.”
Vicki’s eyes were shining with excitement as Louise’s father finished his story.
“It does sound like fun! I just can’t wait!”
“Nina and I are going to ride on one of the floats in the big torchlight parade,” Louise said, her own eyes Sparkling. “We’ll be all dressed up like Spanish se?oritas, in mantillas, shawls, red dresses ...”
“And red roses clutched in our pearly teeth,” Nina insisted.
“Why can’t I be a se?orita too?” Vicki demanded. “That is”—and her face fell at the thought that she might miss the fun—“if we’re not in New York that day.”
“Whoever heard of a blond, blue-eyed se?orita?” Mr. Curtin teased.
“I have,” Nina said. “In the north of Spain—”
“Dad,” Louise interrupted, “tell Vicki about the old Spanish doubloons.”
Mr. Curtin explained that a collection of ancient gold coins, gathered together from all over the world, was currently on display at a museum in New York.
“And since pirates and old gold coins seem to20 go hand in hand,” he continued, “we thought it would be an added attraction for the Festival if we could put them on display here in the Royal Palms Hall during Gasparilla Week. So I wrote New York, and it turned out we were in luck. The exhibit is scheduled to close in New York just a few days before our Festival opens. And they agreed to let us exhibit them. So at least one part of the Gasparilla Festival will be authentic86 this year. Ye Mystic Krewe may be counterfeit87 pirates, but those gold coins will be the real thing. Very real indeed!”
The table talk drifted to other subjects—the Florida beaches, the Florida sun, Vicki’s and Louise’s school days at State University. And after dinner, Vicki and the two Curtin girls took a short walk along the moonlit, palm-lined streets.
Later, when Vicki had said good night and slipped into bed, she realized that the excitement of the day—seeing a romantic new city and meeting an old friend—had made her pleasantly tired. She dropped off to sleep almost as soon as her blond hair touched the cool linen88 pillow. And her dreams were filled with visions of pirate ships and pirate gold.
点击收听单词发音
1 swirls | |
n.旋转( swirl的名词复数 );卷状物;漩涡;尘旋v.旋转,打旋( swirl的第三人称单数 ) | |
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2 murky | |
adj.黑暗的,朦胧的;adv.阴暗地,混浊地;n.阴暗;昏暗 | |
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3 stewardess | |
n.空中小姐,女乘务员 | |
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4 stewardesses | |
(飞机上的)女服务员,空中小姐( stewardess的名词复数 ) | |
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5 chic | |
n./adj.别致(的),时髦(的),讲究的 | |
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6 strand | |
vt.使(船)搁浅,使(某人)困于(某地) | |
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7 tinkled | |
(使)发出丁当声,(使)发铃铃声( tinkle的过去式和过去分词 ); 叮当响着发出,铃铃响着报出 | |
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8 chuckled | |
轻声地笑( chuckle的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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9 shuddered | |
v.战栗( shudder的过去式和过去分词 );发抖;(机器、车辆等)突然震动;颤动 | |
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10 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 | |
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11 carnival | |
n.嘉年华会,狂欢,狂欢节,巡回表演 | |
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12 winked | |
v.使眼色( wink的过去式和过去分词 );递眼色(表示友好或高兴等);(指光)闪烁;闪亮 | |
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13 swirling | |
v.旋转,打旋( swirl的现在分词 ) | |
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14 baker | |
n.面包师 | |
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15 strapped | |
adj.用皮带捆住的,用皮带装饰的;身无分文的;缺钱;手头紧v.用皮带捆扎(strap的过去式和过去分词);用皮带抽打;包扎;给…打绷带 | |
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16 vista | |
n.远景,深景,展望,回想 | |
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17 aisle | |
n.(教堂、教室、戏院等里的)过道,通道 | |
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18 gulf | |
n.海湾;深渊,鸿沟;分歧,隔阂 | |
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19 glistening | |
adj.闪耀的,反光的v.湿物闪耀,闪亮( glisten的现在分词 ) | |
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20 scattered | |
adj.分散的,稀疏的;散步的;疏疏落落的 | |
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21 shrill | |
adj.尖声的;刺耳的;v尖叫 | |
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22 whine | |
v.哀号,号哭;n.哀鸣 | |
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23 graceful | |
adj.优美的,优雅的;得体的 | |
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24 gull | |
n.鸥;受骗的人;v.欺诈 | |
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25 droop | |
v.低垂,下垂;凋萎,萎靡 | |
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26 lumbered | |
砍伐(lumber的过去式与过去分词形式) | |
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27 standing | |
n.持续,地位;adj.永久的,不动的,直立的,不流动的 | |
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28 doorway | |
n.门口,(喻)入门;门路,途径 | |
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29 belongings | |
n.私人物品,私人财物 | |
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30 warehouse | |
n.仓库;vt.存入仓库 | |
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31 orphan | |
n.孤儿;adj.无父母的 | |
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32 license | |
n.执照,许可证,特许;v.许可,特许 | |
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33 appraisal | |
n.对…作出的评价;评价,鉴定,评估 | |
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34 gal | |
n.姑娘,少女 | |
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35 cargo | |
n.(一只船或一架飞机运载的)货物 | |
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36 briefly | |
adv.简单地,简短地 | |
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37 leisurely | |
adj.悠闲的;从容的,慢慢的 | |
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38 swell | |
vi.膨胀,肿胀;增长,增强 | |
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39 dangled | |
悬吊着( dangle的过去式和过去分词 ); 摆动不定; 用某事物诱惑…; 吊胃口 | |
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40 contagiously | |
传染性地,蔓延地 | |
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41 sweeping | |
adj.范围广大的,一扫无遗的 | |
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42 dour | |
adj.冷酷的,严厉的;(岩石)嶙峋的;顽强不屈 | |
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43 mumbled | |
含糊地说某事,叽咕,咕哝( mumble的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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44 chilly | |
adj.凉快的,寒冷的 | |
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45 pointed | |
adj.尖的,直截了当的 | |
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46 beech | |
n.山毛榉;adj.山毛榉的 | |
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47 scented | |
adj.有香味的;洒香水的;有气味的v.嗅到(scent的过去分词) | |
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48 scent | |
n.气味,香味,香水,线索,嗅觉;v.嗅,发觉 | |
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49 dignified | |
a.可敬的,高贵的 | |
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50 rambling | |
adj.[建]凌乱的,杂乱的 | |
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51 vivacious | |
adj.活泼的,快活的 | |
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52 glamorous | |
adj.富有魅力的;美丽动人的;令人向往的 | |
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53 appraised | |
v.估价( appraise的过去式和过去分词 );估计;估量;评价 | |
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54 poised | |
a.摆好姿势不动的 | |
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55 belle | |
n.靓女 | |
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56 know-how | |
n.知识;技术;诀窍 | |
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57 dealing | |
n.经商方法,待人态度 | |
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58 entirely | |
ad.全部地,完整地;完全地,彻底地 | |
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59 chattering | |
n. (机器振动发出的)咔嗒声,(鸟等)鸣,啁啾 adj. 喋喋不休的,啾啾声的 动词chatter的现在分词形式 | |
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60 unpacked | |
v.从(包裹等)中取出(所装的东西),打开行李取出( unpack的过去式和过去分词 );拆包;解除…的负担;吐露(心事等) | |
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61 wafted | |
v.吹送,飘送,(使)浮动( waft的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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62 pitcher | |
n.(有嘴和柄的)大水罐;(棒球)投手 | |
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63 freckles | |
n.雀斑,斑点( freckle的名词复数 ) | |
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64 torrent | |
n.激流,洪流;爆发,(话语等的)连发 | |
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65 chattered | |
(人)喋喋不休( chatter的过去式 ); 唠叨; (牙齿)打战; (机器)震颤 | |
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66 exhaling | |
v.呼出,发散出( exhale的现在分词 );吐出(肺中的空气、烟等),呼气 | |
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67 slanted | |
有偏见的; 倾斜的 | |
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68 mischievously | |
adv.有害地;淘气地 | |
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69 bandanna | |
n.大手帕 | |
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70 ferocious | |
adj.凶猛的,残暴的,极度的,十分强烈的 | |
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71 gaily | |
adv.欢乐地,高兴地 | |
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72 housekeeper | |
n.管理家务的主妇,女管家 | |
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73 starched | |
adj.浆硬的,硬挺的,拘泥刻板的v.把(衣服、床单等)浆一浆( starch的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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74 inevitably | |
adv.不可避免地;必然发生地 | |
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75 intriguing | |
adj.有趣的;迷人的v.搞阴谋诡计(intrigue的现在分词);激起…的好奇心 | |
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76 warship | |
n.军舰,战舰 | |
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77 prey | |
n.被掠食者,牺牲者,掠食;v.捕食,掠夺,折磨 | |
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78 rogue | |
n.流氓;v.游手好闲 | |
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79 pounced | |
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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80 lone | |
adj.孤寂的,单独的;唯一的 | |
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81 brandishing | |
v.挥舞( brandish的现在分词 );炫耀 | |
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82 decided | |
adj.决定了的,坚决的;明显的,明确的 | |
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83 sedate | |
adj.沉着的,镇静的,安静的 | |
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84 rotary | |
adj.(运动等)旋转的;轮转的;转动的 | |
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85 replica | |
n.复制品 | |
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86 authentic | |
a.真的,真正的;可靠的,可信的,有根据的 | |
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87 counterfeit | |
vt.伪造,仿造;adj.伪造的,假冒的 | |
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88 linen | |
n.亚麻布,亚麻线,亚麻制品;adj.亚麻布制的,亚麻的 | |
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