I stood in the Morgans' living room with my coat still on, for it was not suggested that I stayfor dinner or anything else. Both Joe and Rennie were in the kitchen, leisurely1 preparing supper for the boys. They seemed in good humor, and had apparently2 been joking about something.
"Where have you been this time?" Rennie asked.
"Everything's all settled," I said.
"All you have to do is catch the next plane to Vatican City," Joe told her, mocking the weariness and relief of my voice, "and tell the man you're the Pope's concubine."
"I said once and for all I won't lie," Rennie laughed.
"I'll pick you up at nine o'clock," I said. "The appointment's for nine-thirty. It won't be Ergotrate."
Rennie's smile faded; she paled a little.
"Have you really found somebody?"
"Yes. He's a retired3 specialist who runs a convalescent home out near Vineland."
"What's his name?" Joe asked unsmilingly.
"He wants to stay anonymous4. That's understandable enough. But he's a good doctor. I've known him for several years, before I came here. In fact, I took this teaching job at his suggestion."
They showed some surprise.
"I've never heard of a convalescent home out that way," Rennie said doubtfully.
"That's because he keeps the place private, for his patients' benefit, and because he's a Negro doctor with an all-white clientele. Not many people know about him."
"Is he safe?" Joe asked, a little suspiciously. They were both standing5 in the doorway6 by this time.
"That doesn't matter," Rennie said quickly, and went back to the stove.
"Will you be ready at nine?" I asked her.
"I'll be ready," she said.
"You'll want to come too, won't you?" I asked Joe.
"I don't know," he said dully. "I'll decide later."
It was as though I'd spoiled something.
Back in my room, the pressure off, I experienced a reaction not only against the excitement of the days just past but against my whole commitment. It was not difficult to feel relieved at having finally prevented Rennie's suicide, but it was extremely difficult to feel chastened, as I wanted to feel chastened. I wanted the adventure to teach me this about myself: that regardless of what shifting opinions I held about ethical7 matters in the abstract, I was not so consistently the same person (not so sufficiently8 "real," to use Rennie's term) that I could involve myself seriously in the lives of others without doing real damage all around, not least of all to my own tranquillity9; that my irrational10 flashes of conscience and cruelty, of compassion11 and cynicism -- in short, my inability to play the same role long enough -- could give me as well as others pain, and that the same inconsistency rendered it improbable that I could remain peacefully in painful positions for very long, as Joe, for example, could remain. I didn't consistently need or want friends, but it was clear (this too I wanted to learn) that, given my own special kind of integrity, if I was to have them at all I must remain uninvolved -- I must leave them alone.
A simple lesson, but I couldn't properly be chastened. My feelings were mixed: relief, ridiculousness, embarrassment13, anger, injured pride, maudlin14 affection for the Morgans, disgust with them and myself, and a host of other things, including indifference15 to the whole business.
Also, I was not a little tired of myself, and of my knowledge of my selves, and of my personal little mystery. Although I had, in fact, no intention of keeping my pledge to go to Pennsylvania with the Doctor, I composed a brief note to Dr. Schott, informing him of my resignation: my grand play for responsibility had indeed exhausted16 me, and I was ready to leave Wicomico and the Morgans. In a new town, with new friends, even under a new name -- perhaps one couldpretend enough unity17 to be a person and live in the world; perhaps, if one were a sufficiently practiced actor. . . Maybe I would marry Peggy Rankin; take her surname; father a child on her. I smiled.
At a few minutes before nine o'clock I went to get Rennie, and found her and Joe just finishing a late dinner by candlelight.
"Big occasion," Joe said dryly. He flicked18 on the light at once and blew out the candles, and I saw that they'd been eating hot dogs and sauerkraut. Allowing Rennie to put her coat on by herself, he started carrying dishes to the sink.
"How long does this take?" he asked me.
"I don't know, Joe," I said, acutely uncomfortable. "I shouldn't think it would take very long."
"I'm ready," Rennie said. She looked bad: white and shaky. Joe kissed her lightly and turned the sink faucet19 on to wash the dishes.
"You're not coming?" I asked him.
"No"
"Well --" I said. Rennie was already headed for the door. "See you after a while."
We went outside. Rennie bounded gracelessly ahead of me down the sidewalk, and opened the car door before I could do it for her. She sniffed20 a little, but held back the tears. I drove out the highway toward Vineland.
"This really turned into a mess, didn't it?" I said sympathetically. She stared out the window without answering. "I'm terribly sorry that any of it happened."
She gave no clue to her feelings. The thing that I was sharply conscious of was her loneliness in what had happened and what was about to happen -- the fundamental, last-analysis loneliness of all human beings in critical situations. It is never entirely21 true, but it's more apparent at some times than at others, and just then I was very much aware of her as apart from Joe, myself, values, motives22, the world, or history -- a solitary23 animal in a tight spot. And Joe, home, washing the dishes. Lonely animals! Into no cause, resolve, or philosophy can we cram24 so much of ourselves that there is no part of us left over to wonder and be lonely.
"This fellow's really a fine doctor," I said a minute later.
Rennie looked at me uncomprehendingly, as if I'd spoken in a foreign language.
"Rennie, do you want me to take you home?"
"If you do I'll shoot myself," she said hoarsely25.
When we came to the end of the driveway leading to the farmhouse26, I cut out the headlights and drove quietly up into the yard. I explained to Rennie that the Doctor didn't want me to disturb his patients, but I'm afraid the theatricality27 of it did her nerves no good. As I ushered28 her into the farmhouse I felt her trembling. Mrs. Dockey and the Doctor were waiting for us in the reception room. They both scrutinized29 Rennie frankly30, and some contempt was evident in Mrs. Dockey's expression.
"How do you do, Mrs. Morgan," the Doctor said. "We can begin right away. Mrs. Dockey will take you to the Treatment Room.
Wordlessly Mrs. Dockey walked toward the Treatment Room, and Rennie, after a second's uncertainty32, jumped to follow that formidable woman. My eyes watered. I didn't know how to go about distinguishing compassion from love: perhaps it was only compassion I felt for her.
"Did you bring the check and the bankbook?" demanded the Doctor.
"Yes." I handed them to him. On the next-to-last check stub the balance read two hundred eighty-seven dollars and thirty-two cents, and the next check was made out to that amount and signed. "I didn't know who to pay it to."
"I'll write that in. Very well, come along. I very much want you to watch this, for your own good."
"No, I'll wait out here."
"If you want the abortion33 done," the Doctor said, "then come along and watch it."
I went, most unwillingly34. The Doctor donned his white jacket, and we went into the Treatment Room. Rennie was already on the examination table with a sheet up to her neck. I was afraid she'd object to my presence, but she gave no sign of approval or disapproval35. Mrs. Dockey stood by impassively. The Doctor washed his hands and drew up the sheet from Rennie's abdomen36.
"Well, let's see if you're pregnant, first."
When his fingers touched her to begin the examination, she jumped involuntarily. A minute or so later, when the Doctor slipped his hands into rubber gloves, greased the fingers, and began the internal examination, she started sobbing37.
"Now stop that," the Doctor said irritably38. "You've had children before." After a while he asked, "How old do you think the fetus39 is?" Rennie made no answer, and he didn't ask her anything else.
"All right, we may as well get to work. Hand me a dilator and a curette, please," he said to Mrs. Dockey, and she went to the sterilizer40 nearby to get them. The surgical41 instruments clinked in the sterilizer, and Rennie's sobbing became looser and louder. She twisted a little on the examination table and even began to raise herself.
"Lie down and be quiet!" the Doctor ordered sharply. "You'll wake everybody up."
Rennie lay back again and closed her eyes. I began to be sick as soon as the Doctor accepted the bright curette from Mrs. Dockey; I resolved to keep my eyes on Rennie's face instead of the operation.
"Fasten the straps," the Doctor said to Mrs. Dockey. "You should have done that before." A wide leather strap42 was secured across Rennie's diaphragm. "Now, then, hold her right leg, and Horner, you hold the other one. Since we don't go in much for obstetrics here I didn't bother to buy a table with stirrups on it."
Rennie's legs were drawn43 up and spread wide in the lithotomy position. Mrs. Dockey gripped one, pressing the calf44 against the thigh45, and I, very reluctantly, held the other.
"I'm sorry, Rennie," I said.
Rennie whipped her head and moaned. A few moments later -- I would guess that the Doctor had applied46 his curette to begin scraping the uterus, but I wasn't looking to find out -- she began screaming, and tried to kick free.
"Hold those legs!" the Doctor snapped. "She's cutting herself to pieces! Shut her up, Horner!"
"Rennie --" I pleaded, but I couldn't say anything else. She was terrified; I think she no longer recognized me. Her face swam through my tears. For an instant she relaxed, fighting for control, but almost at once -- another scrape of the curette? -- she screamed again, and struggled to raise herself.
"Okay," the Doctor said disgustedly to Mrs. Dockey. "The curette's out. Let go of her leg and shut her up."
Mrs. Dockey pushed Rennie's head down and clamped a hand over her mouth. Rennie kicked wildly with her free leg; the Doctor jumped clear, upsetting his stool, and cursed. I inadvertently glanced away and saw blood on the sheet under Rennie's abdomen, blood on her upper thighs47, blood on the Doctor's gloves. The vomitus rushed to my mouth, and I was barely able to swallow it down.
"We can't stop now," the Doctor said to Mrs. Dockey. "She's already hemorrhaging. Keep her quiet for a minute, and I'll get an anesthetic48."
I began to catch Rennie's fear. She lay quiet again for a moment, and her eyes pleaded with me.
"Take your hand off," I told Mrs. Dockey. "She won't holler." Mrs. Dockey removed her hand warily49, ready to clap it back at once.
"Jake, I'm scared," Rennie cried softly, trembling all over. "He's hurting me. I don't like being scared, but I can't help it."
"Are you sure it's too late to quit, Doctor?" I called across the room, where he was fitting a rubber hose to two tanks of gas on a dolly.
"No use to now," he said. "I'd be finished by this time if she'd cut out her foolishness."
"Do you want to go home, Rennie?"
"Yes," she wept. "But let him finish. I want to hold still, but I can't."
"We'll take care of that," the Doctor said, no longer annoyed. He wheeled the gas tanks over to the head of the table. "The way you were jumping around I could very well have punctured50 your uterus. Relax, now."
Rennie closed her eyes. The Doctor handed the mask to Mrs. Dockey, who with some relish51 held it down over Rennie's nose and mouth. The Doctor immediately opened valves, and the gases made a soft rush into the mask.
"Breathe deeply," the Doctor said, watching the pressure gauges52.
Rennie inhaled53 deeply two, three, five times, as though anxious to lose consciousness. Her trembling subsided54, and her legs began to go limp.
"Check the pulse," the Doctor told Mrs. Dockey.
But as she reached for Rennie's wrist with her free hand, Rennie's stomach jerked inwards, and she vomited55 explosively into the mask. A second later a horrible sucking sound came from her throat, and another. Her eyes half opened briefly56.
"Bronchoscope!" the Doctor said sharply, jerking the mask away. Rennie's face was blue: the sucking noise stopped. "Take the strap off, Horner! Quick!"
I tore at the strap with my fingers; couldn't see it clearly for the water in my eyes. Another gurgling explosion came from Rennie's chest.
"Bronchoscope!"the Doctor shouted.
Mrs. Dockey ran back to the table with a long tube-like instrument, which the Doctor snatched from her hands and began to insert into Rennie's mouth. The vomitus was all over her face, and a small puddle57 of it lay under her head, in her hair. Her face darkened further; her eyes opened, and the pupils rolled senselessly. My head reeled.
"Get oxygen ready!" ordered the Doctor. "Horner, take the pulse!"
I grabbed Rennie's wrist. Maybe I felt one beat -- anyway, no more after that.
"I don't feel any!" I cried.
"No," he said, less excitedly. He withdrew the bronchoscope from her windpipe and laid it aside. "Never mind the oxygen, Mrs. Dockey." Mrs. Dockey came over unhurriedly to look.
And so this is the picture I have to carry with me: the Treatment Room dark except for the one ceiling floodlight that illuminated58 the table; Rennie dead there now, face mottled blue-black, eyes wide, mouth agape; the vomitus running from a pool in her mouth to a pool under her head; the great black belt lying finally unbuckled across the sheet over her chest and stomach; the lower part of her body nude59 and bloody60, her legs trailing limply and clumsily off the end of the examination table.
"So, that's that," the Doctor sighed.
"How'd it happen?" Mrs. Dockey asked.
"She must have eaten a big meal before she came out here," he said. "She should've known better. Vomited it up from the ether and then aspirated it into her lungs. What a mess this is!"
I was stunned61 past weeping. Shock set in almost at once, and I was forced to find a chair before I fell.
"Straighten up, Horner; this won't do."
I couldn't reply. I was fighting nausea62 and faintness.
"Go lie down on a couch in the reception room," he ordered, "and prop12 your feet up. It'll pass. We'll clean her up, and then you'll have to take her out of here."
"Where?" I cried. "What am I going to do?"
"Why, take her back home. Don't you think her husband wants the body?"
I stood up and lurched for the door, but before reaching it I fell flat. When I revived I was lying in the reception room, and the Doctor was standing nearby.
"Swallow these," he said, giving me two pills and a glass of water.
"Now, then, pay attention. This is serious, but it'll be all right if you keep hold of yourself. We took her out to your car. Now don't do anything silly like trying to dispose of her secretly. I've called the husband and explained that she'd be awhile coming out of anesthesia. The best thing for you to do is take her right to her house and tell the husband she'd dead. Be in a panic. Tell him she seemed all right until you got halfway63 home, and then she started vomiting64 and got strangled -- the autopsy65 will pretty much bear that out. He'll call the hospital ambulance, and they'll discover the abortion, but that's okay. You'll be asked questions; that's okay too. Don't tell them where it was done until tomorrow; after that it won't matter. I'm leaving tonight with a few of the patients in the station wagon66, and Mrs. Dockey will stay here to handle things. The house and phone are in her name, and she'll say she's one of my patients who set up the home. You don't know my name, and she'll give them the wrong one and plead ignorance of the whole business. They can't hold you or her either, and they won't be able to find me. Here, take this." He gave me an envelope. "That's your bus fare and enough money to last you until Wednesday. Our plans are the same. Meet Mrs. Dockey and the other patients Wednesday morning at the Greyhound station, and she'll tell you then if there has to be any change in our plans. Do you feel able to drive now?"
I couldn't answer: all my grief had returned in a rush with consciousness.
"You look all right," he said curtly67. "This thing was everybody's fault, Horner. Let it be everybody's lesson. Go on, now; get it over with."
The pills must have worked: when I stood up this time I didn't feel faint. I went out to the car and got in. Rennie was lying curled up on the back seat, dressed, washed, her eyes closed. It was too big a thing to know what to think about it, to know how to feel. I drove mechanically back to the Morgans' house.
It was about eleven when I got there. The grounds and most of the house were dark, and there was no traffic on the highway. I rang the doorbell, and when Joe answered I said, "She's dead, Joe."
It hit him like a club. He almost dropped, but caught himself and shoved his glasses back on his nose. Tears sprang into his eyes and ran at once down both cheeks.
"Where is she?"
"Out in the car. She vomited from the ether and strangled to death on it."
He walked past me out to the car. With difficulty he took her out of the back seat and carried her into the house, where he laid her gently on the daybed. Tears poured down his face, but he neither sobbed68 nor made any kind of noise. I stood by helplessly.
"What's the name of that doctor?"
"I don't know, Joe. I swear to Christ I'm not protecting him. I've been going to him, but he never told me his name. I'll explain it to you when you want to hear it."
"Where does he operate?"
"Out past Vineland. I'll tell the police how to get there."
"You get out fast."
"All right," I said, and left at once. It was not a time for protest, explanation, contrition69, or anything else.
I sat up through the rest of the night waiting to hear from either Joe or the police, but no one called. I wanted terribly to call the police, to call the hospital, to call Joe -- but there was no reason to call anyone. What Joe was doing I had no idea; for all I knew he might have done nothing yet -- might still be regarding her on the daybed, making up his mind. But I decided70 to let him take whatever action he wanted to -- even killing71 me -- without my interference, since he hadn't wanted my help. Unless he requested differently, I intended to answer everybody's questions truthfully, and I hoped the Doctor had been mistaken: I hoped with all my heart that there was some way in which I could be held legally responsible. I craved72 responsibility.
But no one called. I was presented in the morning with the problem of deciding whether to go to school or not, and I decided to go. I couldn't telephone Joe; perhaps someone at school would have heard some news.
When I reached the college I went directly to Dr. Schott's office on the pretext73 of looking for mail. Dr. Schott was in the outer office, along with Shirley and Dr. Carter, and it was apparent from their expressions that they'd heard of Rennie's death.
"Good morning," I said, uncertain how I'd be received.
"Good morning, Mr. Horner," Dr. Schott said distractedly. "We've just heard a terrible thing! Joe Morgan's wife died very suddenly last night!"
"What?" I said, automatically feigning74 surprise and shock. So, it seemed that they didn't suspect my part in her death: my feigned75 surprise was proper until I found out what was on Joe's mind.
"Terrible thing!" Dr. Schott repeated. "A young girl like that, and two little children!"
"How did it happen, sir?"
He blushed. "I'm not in a position to say, Mr. Horner. Joe naturally wasn't too coherent on the phone just now. . . A shock, you know -- terrible shock to him! I believe she died under anesthesia last night in the hospital. Some kind of emergency operation she was having."
"That's awful, isn't it?" I said, shaking my head.
"Terrible thing!"
"Shall I call the hospital?" Shirley asked him. "Maybe they'd have some information."
"No, no," Dr. Schott said at once. "We mustn't pry76. I'll telephone Joe later and ask if there's anything I can do. I can't believe it! Mrs. Morgan was such a fine, healthy young thing!"
It was evident to me that he knew more than he was telling, but whatever Joe told him must not have involved me. Dr. Carter noticed my eyes watering and clapped me on the shoulder. It was known that I was some kind of friend of the Morgans.
"Ah, you never know," he sighed. "The good die young, and maybe it's best."
"What'll he do about the children?" I asked.
"Lord knows! It's tragic77!" It was not certain what exactly he referred to.
"Well, let's don't say any more about it than we have to," Dr. Carter advised, "until we hear more details. It's a terrible shock to all of us."
I guessed that Dr. Schott had confided78 to him whatever information he had.
So on Monday and Tuesday I taught my classes as usual, though in a great emptiness of anxiety. Tuesday afternoon Rennie was buried, but because the college could not declare a holiday on that account Dr. Schott was the only representative of the faculty79 at the funeral. A collection was taken by Miss Banning for a wreath from all of us: I gave a dollar from what little money the Doctor had given me. At the moment when Rennie was lowered into the earth, I believe I was explaining semicolons to my students.
It was given out at the college that Mrs. Morgan had not died from anesthesia after all, but had strangled when a morsel80 of food lodged81 in her throat, and had succumbed82 en route to the hospital. This is what appeared in Tuesday's newspaper as well -- Dr. Schott must have been a power in the community. Moreover, it was rumored83 that Mr. Morgan had submitted his resignation; everyone agreed that the shock of his wife's death was responsible -- that Joe very understandably wanted a change of scenery for a while. The boys were being cared for by Mr. and Mrs. MacMahon, Rennie's parents.
But later Tuesday afternoon I heard the truth of the matter from Dr. Carter, who accosted84 me as I was leaving school for the last time.
"I know you were a friend of Morgan's," he said confidentially85, steering86 me away from a group of students nearby, "so you might as well know the truth about this business. I'm sure it'll go no further."
"Of course not," I assured him. "What is it?"
"Dr. Schott and I were terribly shocked, Horner," he said. "It seems that Mrs. Morgan really died from the effects of an illegal abortion someplace out in the country near here."
"No kidding!"
"I'm afraid so. When he took her to the hospital they found out she'd strangled under anesthesia, and there were obvious signs of the abortion."
"That's a terrible shame!"
"Isn't it? Dr. Schott managed to keep everybody quiet, and the police are investigating secretly, but so far they haven't had any luck. Morgan claims he doesn't know who the doctor was that did it or where the thing was done. Says his wife arranged it on her own and he wasn't there when it happened. I don't know whether he's lying or not; there's no way to tell."
"Good Lord! Can they punish him for anything?"
"Not a thing. But here's the unfortunate part: even though Dr. Schorl's kept everything hushed up, he decided he can't in all good conscience keep Morgan on the staff. It's a bad thing in itself, and it would be worse if the students got wind of it. You know, a small college in a little town like Wicomico. It could lead to a great deal of unpleasantness. Frankly, he asked for Morgan's resignation."
"Yes, it's a pity. You won't say anything, will you?"
I shook my head. "I won't tell a soul."
I was going to be denied, then, the chance to take public responsibility. Rennie was buried. I was still employed, my reputation was untouched, and Joe was out of a job.
Lord, the raggedness88 of it; the incompleteness! I paced my room; sucked in my breath; groaned90 aloud. I could imagine confessing publicly -- but would this not be a further, final injury to Joe, who clearly wanted to deprive me of my responsibility, or at any rate wanted to hold his grief free from any further dealing91 with me? I could imagine carrying the ragged89 burden secretly, either in or out of Wicomico, married to Peggy Rankin or not, under my real name or another -- but was this not cheating my society of its due, or covertly92 avoiding public embarrassment? For that matter, I couldn't decide whether marrying Peggy would be merciful or cruel; whether setting police on the Doctor would be right or wrong. I could not even decide what I shouldfeel: all I found in me was anguish93, abstract and without focus.
I was frantic94. Half a dozen letters I started -- to Joe, to the police, to Peggy, to Joe again -- and none could I finish. It was no use: I could not remain sufficiently simple-minded long enough to lay blame -- on the Doctor, myself, or anyone -- or to decide what was the right course of action. I threw the notes away and sat still and anguished95 in my rocking chair. The terrific incompleteness made me volatile96; my muscles screamed to act; but my limbs were bound like Laoco?n's -- by the twin serpents Knowledge and Imagination, which, grown great in the fullness of time, no longer tempt31 but annihilate97.
Presently I undressed and lay on the bed in the dark, though sleep was unthinkable, and commenced a silent colloquy98 with my friend.
"We've come too far and learned too much," I said to Laoco?n. "Of those of us who have survived to this age, who can live any longer in the world?"
There was no reply. My mouth had the taste of ashes in it.
Sometime during the night the telephone rang. I was nude, and since the window curtains were open I answered the phone in the dark. Joe's voice came strong, clear, quiet, and close over the wire.
"Jake?"
"Yes, Joe." I tingled99 in every nerve, thinking, among other things, of the big pistol in his closet.
"Are you up to date on everything?"
"Yes. I think so."
There was a pause.
"Well. What are your plans? Anything special?"
"I don't know, Joe. . . I guess not. I was going to follow your lead, whatever it turned out to be."
Another pause.
"I might leave town too," I said.
"Oh yes? Why?"
No alteration100 in his voice, no hint of his attitude at all.
"I don't know. How about you, Joe? What'll you do now?"
He ignored the question.
"Well, what's on your mind, Jake? What do you think about things?"
I hesitated, entirely nonplused. "God, Joe -- I don't know where to start or what to do!"
"What?"
His voice remained clear, bright, and close in my ear. I can't understand why it was that I started crying, but the tears ran in a cold flood down my face and neck, onto my chest, and I shook all over with violent chills.
"I said 1 don't know what to do."
"Oh."
Another pause, this time a long one, and then he hung up and I was left with a dead instrument in the dark.
Next morning I shaved, dressed, packed my bags, and called a taxi. While I waited for it to come, I rocked in my chair and smoked a cigarette. I was without weather. A few minutes later the cabby blew his horn for me; I picked up my two suitcases and went out, leaving the bust101 of Laoco?n where it stood on the mantelpiece. My car, too, since I saw no further use for it, I left where it was, at the curb102, and climbed into the taxi.
"Terminal."
收听单词发音 |
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leisurely
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| adj.悠闲的；从容的，慢慢的 | |
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apparently
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| adv.显然地；表面上，似乎 | |
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retired
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| adj.隐退的，退休的，退役的 | |
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anonymous
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| adj.无名的；匿名的；无特色的 | |
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standing
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| n.持续，地位；adj.永久的，不动的，直立的，不流动的 | |
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doorway
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| n.门口，(喻)入门；门路，途径 | |
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ethical
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| adj.伦理的，道德的，合乎道德的 | |
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sufficiently
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tranquillity
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irrational
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compassion
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| n.同情，怜悯 | |
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prop
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| vt.支撑；n.支柱，支撑物；支持者，靠山 | |
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embarrassment
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| n.尴尬；使人为难的人(事物)；障碍；窘迫 | |
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maudlin
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| adj.感情脆弱的，爱哭的 | |
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indifference
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| n.不感兴趣，不关心，冷淡，不在乎 | |
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exhausted
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| adj.极其疲惫的，精疲力尽的 | |
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unity
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| n.团结，联合，统一；和睦，协调 | |
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flicked
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| （尤指用手指或手快速地）轻击( flick的过去式和过去分词 )； （用…）轻挥； （快速地）按开关； 向…笑了一下（或瞥了一眼等） | |
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19
faucet
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| n.水龙头 | |
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20
sniffed
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| v.以鼻吸气，嗅，闻( sniff的过去式和过去分词 )；抽鼻子（尤指哭泣、患感冒等时出声地用鼻子吸气）；抱怨，不以为然地说 | |
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21
entirely
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| ad.全部地，完整地；完全地，彻底地 | |
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22
motives
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| n.动机，目的( motive的名词复数 ) | |
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23
solitary
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| adj.孤独的，独立的，荒凉的；n.隐士 | |
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24
cram
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| v.填塞，塞满，临时抱佛脚，为考试而学习 | |
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25
hoarsely
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| adv.嘶哑地 | |
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26
farmhouse
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| n.农场住宅（尤指主要住房） | |
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27
theatricality
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| n.戏剧风格，不自然 | |
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ushered
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| v.引，领，陪同( usher的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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29
scrutinized
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| v.仔细检查，详审( scrutinize的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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30
frankly
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| adv.坦白地，直率地；坦率地说 | |
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31
tempt
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| vt.引诱，勾引，吸引，引起…的兴趣 | |
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32
uncertainty
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| n.易变，靠不住，不确知，不确定的事物 | |
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33
abortion
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| n.流产，堕胎 | |
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34
unwillingly
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| adv.不情愿地 | |
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35
disapproval
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| n.反对，不赞成 | |
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36
abdomen
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| n.腹，下腹(胸部到腿部的部分) | |
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37
sobbing
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| <主方>Ⅰ adj.湿透的 | |
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38
irritably
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| ad.易生气地 | |
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39
fetus
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| n.胎，胎儿 | |
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40
sterilizer
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| n.消毒者，消毒器 | |
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41
surgical
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| adj.外科的，外科医生的，手术上的 | |
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42
strap
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| n.皮带，带子；v.用带扣住，束牢；用绷带包扎 | |
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43
drawn
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| v.拖，拉，拔出；adj.憔悴的，紧张的 | |
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44
calf
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| n.小牛，犊，幼仔，小牛皮 | |
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45
thigh
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| n.大腿；股骨 | |
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46
applied
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| adj.应用的；v.应用，适用 | |
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thighs
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| n.股，大腿( thigh的名词复数 )；食用的鸡（等的）腿 | |
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anesthetic
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| n.麻醉剂，麻药；adj.麻醉的，失去知觉的 | |
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warily
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| adv.留心地 | |
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50
punctured
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| v.在（某物）上穿孔( puncture的过去式和过去分词 )；刺穿（某物）；削弱（某人的傲气、信心等）；泄某人的气 | |
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relish
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| n.滋味，享受，爱好，调味品；vt.加调味料，享受，品味；vi.有滋味 | |
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gauges
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| n.规格( gauge的名词复数 )；厚度；宽度；标准尺寸v.（用仪器）测量( gauge的第三人称单数 )；估计；计量；划分 | |
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inhaled
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| v.吸入( inhale的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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subsided
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| v.（土地）下陷（因在地下采矿）( subside的过去式和过去分词 )；减弱；下降至较低或正常水平；一下子坐在椅子等上 | |
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vomited
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briefly
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| adv.简单地，简短地 | |
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puddle
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| n.(雨)水坑，泥潭 | |
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illuminated
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| adj.被照明的；受启迪的 | |
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nude
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| adj.裸体的；n.裸体者，裸体艺术品 | |
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bloody
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| adj.非常的的；流血的；残忍的；adv.很；vt.血染 | |
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stunned
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| adj. 震惊的，惊讶的 动词stun的过去式和过去分词 | |
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nausea
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| n.作呕，恶心；极端的憎恶(或厌恶) | |
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halfway
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| adj.中途的，不彻底的，部分的；adv.半路地，在中途，在半途 | |
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vomiting
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| 吐 | |
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65
autopsy
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| n.尸体解剖；尸检 | |
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66
wagon
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| n.四轮马车，手推车，面包车；无盖运货列车 | |
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curtly
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| adv.简短地 | |
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68
sobbed
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| 哭泣，啜泣( sob的过去式和过去分词 )； 哭诉，呜咽地说 | |
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contrition
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| n.悔罪，痛悔 | |
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decided
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| adj.决定了的，坚决的；明显的，明确的 | |
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71
killing
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| n.巨额利润；突然赚大钱，发大财 | |
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craved
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| 渴望，热望( crave的过去式 )； 恳求，请求 | |
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73
pretext
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| n.借口，托词 | |
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74
feigning
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| 假装，伪装( feign的现在分词 )； 捏造（借口、理由等） | |
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feigned
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| a.假装的，不真诚的 | |
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76
pry
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| vi.窥(刺)探，打听；vt.撬动(开，起) | |
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77
tragic
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| adj.悲剧的，悲剧性的，悲惨的 | |
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78
confided
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| 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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79
faculty
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| n.才能；学院，系；(学院或系的)全体教学人员 | |
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morsel
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| n.一口，一点点 | |
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81
lodged
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| v.存放( lodge的过去式和过去分词 )；暂住；埋入；（权利、权威等）归属 | |
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succumbed
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| 不再抵抗（诱惑、疾病、攻击等）( succumb的过去式和过去分词 )； 屈从； 被压垮； 死 | |
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83
rumored
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| adj.传说的，谣传的v.传闻( rumor的过去式和过去分词 )；[古]名誉；咕哝；[古]喧嚷 | |
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84
accosted
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| v.走过去跟…讲话( accost的过去式和过去分词 )；跟…搭讪；（乞丐等）上前向…乞讨；（妓女等）勾搭 | |
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85
confidentially
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| ad.秘密地，悄悄地 | |
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86
steering
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| n.操舵装置 | |
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87
bastard
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| n.坏蛋，混蛋；私生子 | |
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88
raggedness
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| 破烂，粗糙 | |
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ragged
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| adj.衣衫褴褛的，粗糙的，刺耳的 | |
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90
groaned
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| v.呻吟( groan的过去式和过去分词 )；发牢骚；抱怨；受苦 | |
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91
dealing
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| n.经商方法，待人态度 | |
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92
covertly
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| adv.偷偷摸摸地 | |
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93
anguish
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| n.(尤指心灵上的)极度痛苦，烦恼 | |
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94
frantic
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| adj.狂乱的，错乱的，激昂的 | |
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95
anguished
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| adj.极其痛苦的v.使极度痛苦(anguish的过去式) | |
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96
volatile
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| adj.反复无常的，挥发性的，稍纵即逝的，脾气火爆的；n.挥发性物质 | |
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97
annihilate
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| v.使无效；毁灭；取消 | |
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98
colloquy
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| n.谈话，自由讨论 | |
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99
tingled
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| v.有刺痛感( tingle的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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100
alteration
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| n.变更，改变；蚀变 | |
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101
bust
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| vt.打破；vi.爆裂；n.半身像；胸部 | |
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102
curb
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| n.场外证券市场，场外交易；vt.制止，抑制 | |
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