Well, first, there was no available estate, save only a few thousand dollars in money. The wandering Blue Jay mill wore out at last. Aaron’s final act of business was to sell its good-will to a corporation. That was where the few thousand dollars came from. The plant itself was scrapped9 for junk. The day after that had happened Aaron lay him down with a fever and never got up again. John, in his junior year at college, was summoned at once, at Aaron’s request, as if he knew he were going to die. Yet he could not wait. He died the night before the boy arrived.
[96]
His will, written by himself on a sheet of foolscap, was very simple:
“All I have whatsoever10 I leave to my son, John. There is no one else.”
Pinned to this was a personal note as follows:
“Boy of Esther, I am leaving you. Go straight and God bless you. Bury me at New Damascus.”
The writing, though clear, was evidently an achievement of great effort. He was dying then and was gone in less than an hour.
The old Woolwine holdings of ore and coal, though still intact, were in a state of suspended development and not very valuable, perhaps quite unsaleable. As for the ore, it would not pay to develop that any further. The whole iron region was now beginning to be flooded with cheap Mesaba ore from the head of the Great Lakes. Gib, in fact, was already buying this ore for his blast furnaces. He could buy it for less than the cost of producing his own. As for the coal, the only market there had ever been for that was at the New Damascus blast furnaces. Gib owned all the furnaces and had all the coal he needed. Coal is coal, of course; it may be sold anywhere. But the Woolwine holdings, which John Breakspeare inherited, were probably not large enough to bear the capital that would be necessary to put New Damascus coal into commercial competition with the output of the big established collieries up the river.
[97]
These thoughts all wound up together in the young man’s meditations12 led nowhere. They merely revolved13. They fell into a kind of rhythm. The same ideas kept repeating themselves in an obsessed14, uncontrollable manner. “I’m stupid,” he said, and got up to walk. Of a sudden he became aware of what it was that had been making his thoughts go round like that.
There was a throbbing15 in the air, a rythmic punctuation17, a ceaseless hollow murmur18. He had heard this voice before, continuously in fact, without attending to it. Now he listened. It came from the chest of the great driving engine in the rolling mill, at the other side of town. It said:
Wrought iron
Wrought iron
Iron, iron.
The mill!
The mill his father founded!
Volcanic20 fires, incandescent21 difficulties, quick, elemental fluids,—in these his father wrought and failed. Had not the son some pressing business with that same Plutonic stuff? He moved as if he had. With no shape of an idea in his mind he walked purposefully, stalking the voice of the engine, and came to the rear of the mill.
It was evening.
He had never seen an iron mill before. For some time he stood outside the gate, viewing it at large,[98] smelling and tasting its fumes22, acquainting his senses with its moody23 roar. There was at first no sign of human agency. Then he made out figures passing back and forth24 through bolts of sudden light. They seemed solitary, silent, bored. The notion crossed his fancy that man had tapped the earth of forces which turned genii on his hands, enslaved him, commanded weary obedience25 and in the end consumed him.
Now a shift was taking place. Night crews were coming on; day crews were going out. Those arriving walked erect26; their faces, white and clean, showed vividly27 against the murky28 texture29. Those going out were limp and bent30; their faces did not show at all. Twice a day they passed like that, bodies healed by sleep and food relieving those all fagged and bruised31 from a twelve-hour struggle with the genii. Puddlers, heaters, hammermen and rollers were marked apart from common, unskilled labor33 by leather aprons34 on their feet, tied round the ankles, flapping as they walked.
Curious glances fell upon the young man idling there in the dusk. Nobody spoke35 to him. On the gate was a painted sign: “Positively no admittance.” The rule was rigid36, even more so in Gib’s mill than at any other in the country, and all iron working plants in those days were guarded very jealously because spies went to and fro stealing methods, formulas and ideas. The weakness of a rigid rule is that everyone supposes it will be observed. No doubt the men who saw Breakspeare enter took him to be a young man from the[99] office. No common trespasser37 would be so cool about it; a spy would make his entrance surreptitiously. Whatwise, nobody stopped him. He went all the way in and was swallowed up in the gloomy, swirling38, glare-punctured commotion39. And once inside he could move freely from place to place. No one paid him the slightest heed40.
The air was torn, shattered, upheaved, compressed, pierced through, by sounds of shock, strain, impact, clangor, cannonade and shrill41 whistle blasts, occurring in any order of sequence, and then all at one time dissolving in a moment of vast silence even more amazing to the ear. Conversation would be possible only by shrieks42 close up. The men seemed never to speak at their work. They did not communicate ideas by signs either. Each man had his place, his part, his own pattern of action, and did what he did with a kind of mechanical inevitability43, as if it were something he had never learned. They were related not to each other but to the process, kept their eyes fixedly44 on it for obvious reasons, and stepped warily46. A false gesture might have immediate47 consequences.
The process just then was that of rolling iron bars. From where Breakspeare stood he saw the latter end of it. He saw the finished bars spurt48 like dull red serpents from between the rolls. Two men standing49 with their gaze on the running hole from which the reptile50 darted51 forth snared52 it by the neck with tongs53, walked slowly backward with it as the rolls released the glowing body, until its tail came free; then dragged[100] it off, a tame, limp thing, turning black, and put it straight along with others to cool.
The whole process could not be seen at once. It took place in a train of events covering many acres of area. It could be followed backward,—that is by going from the finished bars to the source of the iron, or in the other direction downstream, from the puddling furnaces where the iron is cooked, to the hammermen who mauled it into rough shape and thence to the rolls. Breakspeare, having started that way, traced it backward, from the finished bar to the source of its becoming.
He moved to a position from which he could see all that happened at the rolls.
The rolls were merely enormous cylinders55 revolving56 together in gears, with grooves58 through which to pass the malleable59 iron. The first groove57 through which it passed was very large, the next one smaller, the next one smaller still, until the last, out of which the final form appeared. The iron had to be passed back and forth through each of these grooves in turn.
On each side of the rolls stood men in pairs with tongs,—silent, foreboding men, with masks on their faces and leather aprons on their feet, singularly impassive and still, save in moments of action. At intervals60 of two or three minutes a man came running with two hundred weight of incandescent iron in the shape of a rough log five or six feet long, held in tongs swung by a chain to an overhead rail, and dropped it at the feet of the rollers. Becoming that instant alive, the[101] rollers picked it up with tongs, passed it through the first groove of the rolls, giving it a handful of sand if it stuck, and then stood again in that attitude of brooding immobility, leaning on their tongs, looking at nothing, bathed in sparks as the tail of the iron disappeared. On the other side of the rolls similar men with similar tongs seized it as you would take a reptile by the neck in a cleft61 stick, controlled and guided its wrigglings, turned and thrust its head into the next smaller groove. Thus they passed and repassed it through the rolls, catching62 it each time by the neck and returning it through a smaller groove. Each time it was longer, more sinuous63, less dangerous, until at last, with the final pass, it became what Breakspeare had first seen, namely, a finished wrought iron bar, ready to cool.
From the rolls he moved to the tilthammers. At corresponding intervals the hammermen received on tongs from the puddling furnace two hundred weight of iron in the form of a flaming dough64 ball, laid it on a block, turned it under the blows of the tilthammer falling like a pile driver from above, until it was the shape of a log, fit to be passed through the rolls. Then helpers, lifting it in tongs, ran with it to the rollers.
Beyond the tilthammers were the puddling furnaces. There the process began.
A puddling furnace is a long, narrow, maw-like chamber65 of brick and fire clay with a depressed66 floor for the molten iron to lie in and a small square door at the end. It is heated to inferno67 by a cataract68 of flame rising from a fire pit at one side and sucked by draught69[102] across the roof of its mouth. When the whole interior is like a dragon’s gullet, white hot, wicked and devouring70, cold pigs of iron are cast in, the door is banged to, the chinks are stopped and the puddler32 gathers up his strength.
In the door is a small round hole. Through that hole the puddler watches. When the iron is fluid his work begins. The thing he represents is Satan raking hell. With his beater and working only through that little round hole, he must stir, whip, knead and skim the iron. The impurities71 drain away in a lava72 stream beneath the door. He may not pause. The beater gets too hot to hold, or begins itself to melt. He casts it into a vat73 of water and continues with another.
The puddler is the baker74, the pastry75 cook, the mighty76 chef. All that follows, the whole pudding, the quality of the iron to the end of its life, will be the test of his skill and daemonic impatience77.
Presently the iron begins to bubble gravely, turning viscous78. Now the art begins. The puddler, still working through that small hole with a long, round bar, must ball the iron. That is, he must divide the molten mass into equal parts and make each part a ball of two hundred weight just. Having made the balls he must keep them rolling round without touching79. If they do not roll they will cool a little on the under side and burn on top; and if they touch they will fuse together and his work is lost. One by one he draws them near the door. They must not all come done at once. Therefore this one takes the hottest place; that[103] one stays a little back. Then one is ready. The door jerks open. A helper, working tongs swung by a chain to a monorail overhead, reaches in, plucks out the indicated flaming pill, rushes it headlong to the hammermen and comes running back to get another.
The puddling process fascinated Breakspeare. He watched it for a long time. He particularly enjoyed watching the work of a certain young puddler, tall and lithe80, in whose movements there was an extraordinary fulness of power, skill and unconscious grace. He was bare to his middle, wore a skull81 cap and gloves, and in his outline, turning always in three dimensions, a quality was realized that belongs to pure sculpture. He moved in space as if it were a buoyant element, like water. Never did he make a sudden start or stop. No gesture was angular. One action flowed into another in a continuous pattern. When with the furnace freshly loaded, the door closed, the chinks all stopped and the draught roaring, the moment came to rest he flung himself headlong but lightly on a plank82 bench and lay there on his side, his head in his hand, propped83 from the elbow. And when he rose it was all at once without effort.
Standing in deep shadow, outside the area of action, Breakspeare was not aware that the puddler had once looked at him or knew of his presence there; and he was startled when without any warning at all that person departed from his orbit, came close to him, and shouted in a friendly voice:
“Well, how about it?”
[104]
“Bully,” Breakspeare shouted back at him.
They looked at each other, smiling.
“Don’t let the old man catch you,” said the puddler. “He’s about due.”
“All right,” said Breakspeare.
The puddler went back to his work and never looked at him again.
Breakspeare liked the encounter. He liked the puddler, whose friendliness84 was in character with his movements, swift and unerring. He was at the same time in a curious way disappointed. When the puddler spoke he was a man, like any other, who made the same sounds and had the same difficulty in overriding85 the uproar86. Speaking was the single act that visibly required effort of him. But as a puddler, with the glare in his face, an ironic87 twist on his lips, his body glistening88 with perspiration89, his left leg advanced and bent at the knee and his other far extended, every muscle in him running like quicksilver under satin,—then he was a demon90, colossal91, superb, unique. When he spoke that impression was ruined; when he returned to his work it was restored.
These were not Breakspeare’s reflections. They were his feelings, and so engrossed92 him that he was unaware93 of being no longer alone in the shadow. Enoch Gib stood close beside him watching the puddlers. The puddlers knew the old man was there. One sensed their knowing it from an increase in the tension of the work. But they did not look at him. Breakspeare turned as if to move away.
[105]
“Stay where you are,” said Gib, in a voice that pierced the uproar. He seemed to do this with no effort. It was in the pitch of his voice. When he had seen the end of the heat and the iron was out he added: “Come with me.”
They walked out side by side through the front gate, across the road to the little brick office building, into the front room. The old man took off his coat, hung it on the back of his chair, spread a towel over it, and sat down at a double walnut94 desk the top of which was littered with ragged54 books, unopened letters, scraps95 of metals, sections of railroad iron, scientific journals, cigar ashes and little models of machinery96, in the utmost confusion. Breakspeare, unasked, sat himself down at the other side of the desk and waited. He had a feeling that all the time Gib had been expecting him to break and run and was prepared to detain him forcibly. Why, he could not imagine. He knew nothing about the sacredness of iron working premises97 nor of the suspicion with which intruders were regarded.
“Looking at it,” said the young man.
“Who sent you?”
“Nobody.”
“How did you get in?”
“Walked in.”
“At what gate?”
“On the other side.”
[106]
Gib made mental note of that statement. Then he asked:
“Who are you?”
“John Breakspeare.”
Gib had been regarding the young man in a malevolent99 manner. That expression seemed to freeze. Then slowly he averted100 his face. His gaze fixed45 itself on a burnt cigar hanging over the edge of the desk. He sat perfectly101 still, as if rigid, and Breakspeare could hear the ticking of a watch in his waistcoat pocket.
“What do you want?” he asked in a loud voice, as if they were in the mill.
Until that instant Breakspeare had no definite thought of wanting anything in this place. First had been that reaction to the throb16 of the engine. Then came the impulse to visit the mill. That impulse was unexamined. It had not occurred to him to think that anything might come of it; he had not thought of meeting Gib. Nevertheless the question as it was asked started a purpose in his mind.
“I want to learn the iron business,” he said.
“Here?” said Gib, quickly.
“Isn’t this a good place to learn it?” the young man retorted.
For a long time the old man sat in meditation11.
“The iron business,” he said. “Mind now, you said the iron business.”
“Yes.”
“Not the steel business.... Iron! Iron!”
[107]
“I don’t know the difference,” said Breakspeare, adding: “Anyhow, you don’t teach the steel business here, do you?”
The old man looked at him heavily. Then he got up to pace the floor. Once, with his face to the wall, he laughed in a mirthless way. That seemed to clear his mind.
“Come Thursday at eight,” he said.
点击
收听单词发音
收听单词发音 |
1
veranda
|
|
| n.走廊；阳台 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
2
extravagantly
|
|
| adv.挥霍无度地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
3
entailed
|
|
| 使…成为必要( entail的过去式和过去分词 )； 需要； 限定继承； 使必需 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
4
amenities
|
|
| n.令人愉快的事物；礼仪；礼节；便利设施；礼仪( amenity的名词复数 )；便利设施；（环境等的）舒适；（性情等的）愉快 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
5
solitary
|
|
| adj.孤独的，独立的，荒凉的；n.隐士 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
6
gregarious
|
|
| adj.群居的，喜好群居的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
7
dozing
|
|
| v.打瞌睡,假寐 n.瞌睡 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
8
meddling
|
|
| v.干涉，干预（他人事务）( meddle的现在分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
9
scrapped
|
|
| 废弃(scrap的过去式与过去分词)； 打架 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
10
whatsoever
|
|
| adv.（用于否定句中以加强语气）任何；pron.无论什么 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
11
meditation
|
|
| n.熟虑，（尤指宗教的）默想，沉思，（pl.）冥想录 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
12
meditations
|
|
| 默想( meditation的名词复数 )； 默念； 沉思； 冥想 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
13
revolved
|
|
| v.（使）旋转( revolve的过去式和过去分词 )；细想 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
14
obsessed
|
|
| adj.心神不宁的,鬼迷心窍的,沉迷的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
15
throbbing
|
|
| a. 跳动的,悸动的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
16
throb
|
|
| v.震颤，颤动；(急速强烈地)跳动，搏动 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
17
punctuation
|
|
| n.标点符号，标点法 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
18
murmur
|
|
| n.低语，低声的怨言；v.低语，低声而言 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
19
wrought
|
|
| v.引起；以…原料制作；运转；adj.制造的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
20
volcanic
|
|
| adj.火山的；象火山的；由火山引起的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
21
incandescent
|
|
| adj.遇热发光的， 白炽的，感情强烈的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
22
fumes
|
|
| n.(强烈而刺激的)气味，气体 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
23
moody
|
|
| adj.心情不稳的，易怒的，喜怒无常的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
24
forth
|
|
| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
25
obedience
|
|
| n.服从，顺从 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
26
erect
|
|
| n./v.树立，建立，使竖立；adj.直立的，垂直的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
27
vividly
|
|
| adv.清楚地，鲜明地，生动地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
28
murky
|
|
| adj.黑暗的，朦胧的；adv.阴暗地，混浊地；n.阴暗；昏暗 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
29
texture
|
|
| n.(织物)质地；(材料)构造；结构；肌理 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
30
bent
|
|
| n.爱好，癖好；adj.弯的；决心的，一心的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
31
bruised
|
|
| [医]青肿的，瘀紫的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
32
puddler
|
|
| n.捣泥者，搅拌器，混凝器 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
|
33
labor
|
|
| n.劳动，努力，工作，劳工；分娩；vi.劳动，努力，苦干；vt.详细分析；麻烦 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
34
aprons
|
|
| 围裙( apron的名词复数 )； 停机坪，台口（舞台幕前的部份） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
35
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： |
|
|
|
|
36
rigid
|
|
| adj.严格的，死板的；刚硬的，僵硬的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
37
trespasser
|
|
| n.侵犯者；违反者 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
38
swirling
|
|
| v.旋转，打旋( swirl的现在分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
39
commotion
|
|
| n.骚动，动乱 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
40
heed
|
|
| v.注意，留意；n.注意，留心 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
41
shrill
|
|
| adj.尖声的；刺耳的；v尖叫 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
42
shrieks
|
|
| n.尖叫声( shriek的名词复数 )v.尖叫( shriek的第三人称单数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
43
inevitability
|
|
| n.必然性 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
44
fixedly
|
|
| adv.固定地；不屈地，坚定不移地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
45
fixed
|
|
| adj.固定的，不变的，准备好的；(计算机)固定的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
46
warily
|
|
| adv.留心地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
47
immediate
|
|
| adj.立即的；直接的，最接近的；紧靠的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
48
spurt
|
|
| v.喷出；突然进发；突然兴隆 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
49
standing
|
|
| n.持续，地位；adj.永久的，不动的，直立的，不流动的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
50
reptile
|
|
| n.爬行动物；两栖动物 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
51
darted
|
|
| v.投掷，投射( dart的过去式和过去分词 )；向前冲，飞奔 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
52
snared
|
|
| v.用罗网捕捉，诱陷，陷害( snare的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
53
tongs
|
|
| n.钳；夹子 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
54
ragged
|
|
| adj.衣衫褴褛的，粗糙的，刺耳的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
55
cylinders
|
|
| n.圆筒( cylinder的名词复数 )；圆柱；汽缸；（尤指用作容器的）圆筒状物 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
56
revolving
|
|
| adj.旋转的，轮转式的；循环的v.（使）旋转( revolve的现在分词 )；细想 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
57
groove
|
|
| n.沟，槽；凹线，（刻出的）线条，习惯 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
58
grooves
|
|
| n.沟( groove的名词复数 )；槽；老一套；（某种）音乐节奏v.沟( groove的第三人称单数 )；槽；老一套；（某种）音乐节奏 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
59
malleable
|
|
| adj.(金属)可锻的;有延展性的；(性格)可训练的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
60
intervals
|
|
| n.[军事]间隔( interval的名词复数 )；间隔时间；[数学]区间；（戏剧、电影或音乐会的）幕间休息 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
61
cleft
|
|
| n.裂缝；adj.裂开的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
62
catching
|
|
| adj.易传染的，有魅力的，迷人的，接住 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
63
sinuous
|
|
| adj.蜿蜒的，迂回的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
64
dough
|
|
| n.生面团；钱，现款 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
65
chamber
|
|
| n.房间，寝室；会议厅；议院；会所 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
66
depressed
|
|
| adj.沮丧的，抑郁的，不景气的，萧条的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
67
inferno
|
|
| n.火海；地狱般的场所 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
68
cataract
|
|
| n.大瀑布，奔流，洪水，白内障 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
69
draught
|
|
| n.拉，牵引，拖；一网（饮，吸，阵)；顿服药量，通风；v.起草，设计 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
70
devouring
|
|
| 吞没( devour的现在分词 )； 耗尽； 津津有味地看； 狼吞虎咽地吃光 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
71
impurities
|
|
| 不纯( impurity的名词复数 )； 不洁； 淫秽； 杂质 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
72
lava
|
|
| n.熔岩，火山岩 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
73
vat
|
|
| n.(=value added tax)增值税，大桶 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
74
baker
|
|
| n.面包师 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
75
pastry
|
|
| n.油酥面团，酥皮糕点 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
76
mighty
|
|
| adj.强有力的；巨大的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
77
impatience
|
|
| n.不耐烦，急躁 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
78
viscous
|
|
| adj.粘滞的，粘性的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
79
touching
|
|
| adj.动人的，使人感伤的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
80
lithe
|
|
| adj.(指人、身体)柔软的，易弯的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
81
skull
|
|
| n.头骨；颅骨 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
82
plank
|
|
| n.板条，木板，政策要点，政纲条目 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
83
propped
|
|
| 支撑，支持，维持( prop的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
84
friendliness
|
|
| n.友谊，亲切，亲密 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
85
overriding
|
|
| a.最主要的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
86
uproar
|
|
| n.骚动，喧嚣，鼎沸 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
87
ironic
|
|
| adj.讽刺的，有讽刺意味的，出乎意料的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
88
glistening
|
|
| adj.闪耀的，反光的v.湿物闪耀，闪亮( glisten的现在分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
89
perspiration
|
|
| n.汗水；出汗 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
90
demon
|
|
| n.魔鬼，恶魔 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
91
colossal
|
|
| adj.异常的，庞大的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
92
engrossed
|
|
| adj.全神贯注的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
93
unaware
|
|
| a.不知道的，未意识到的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
94
walnut
|
|
| n.胡桃，胡桃木，胡桃色，茶色 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
95
scraps
|
|
| 油渣 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
96
machinery
|
|
| n.(总称)机械，机器；机构 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
97
premises
|
|
| n.建筑物，房屋 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
98
brutally
|
|
| adv.残忍地，野蛮地，冷酷无情地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
99
malevolent
|
|
| adj.有恶意的，恶毒的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
100
averted
|
|
| 防止，避免( avert的过去式和过去分词 )； 转移 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
101
perfectly
|
|
| adv.完美地，无可非议地，彻底地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
| 欢迎访问英文小说网 |