My brilliant friend at times displayed a sort of prescience, of which I may have occasion to speak later, but I, together with the rest of pur-blind humanity, am commonly immune from the prophetic instinct. Therefore I chronicle the fact for what it may be worth, that as I gazed with a sort of disgust at the exhibit lying upon the table I became possessed2 of a conviction, which had no logical basis, that a door had been opened through which I should step into a new avenue of being; I felt myself to stand upon the threshold of things strange and terrible, but withal alluring3. Perhaps it is true that in the great crises of life the inner eye becomes momentarily opened.
With intense curiosity I awaited the Colonel’s next words, but, a cigarette held nervously4 between his fingers, he stood staring at Harley, and it was the latter who broke that peculiar5 silence which had fallen upon us.
“The wing of a bat,” he murmured, then touched it gingerly. “Of what kind of bat, Colonel Menendez? Surely not a British species?”
“But emphatically not a British species,” replied the Spaniard. “Yet even so the matter would be strange.”
“I am all anxiety to learn the remainder of your story, Colonel Menendez.”
“Good. Your interest comforts me very greatly, Mr. Harley. But when first I came, you led me to suppose that you were departing from London?”
“Such, at the time, was my intention, sir.” Paul Harley smiled slightly. “Accompanied by my friend, Mr. Knox, I had proposed to indulge in a fortnight’s fishing upon the Norfolk Broads.”
“Fishing?”
“Yes.”
“A peaceful occupation, Mr. Harley, and a great rest-cure for one who like yourself moves much amid the fiercer passions of life. You were about to make holiday?”
Paul Harley nodded.
“It is cruel of me to intrude6 upon such plans,” continued Colonel Menendez, dexterously7 rolling his cigarette around between his fingers. “Yet because of my urgent need I dare to do so. Would yourself and your friend honour me with your company at Cray’s Folly8 for a few days? I can promise you good entertainment, although I regret that there is no fishing; but it may chance that there will be other and more exciting sport.”
Harley glanced at me significantly.
“Do I understand you to mean, Colonel Menendez,” he asked, “that you have reason to believe that this conspiracy9 directed against you is about to come to a head?”
Colonel Menendez nodded, at the same time bringing his hand down sharply upon the table.
“Mr. Harley,” he replied, his high, thin voice sunken almost to a whisper, “Wednesday night is the night of the full moon.”
“The full moon?”
“It is at the full moon that the danger comes.”
Paul Harley stood up, and watched by the Spanish colonel paced slowly across the office. At the outer door he paused and turned.
“Colonel Menendez,” he said, “that you would willingly waste the time of a busy man I do not for a moment believe, therefore I shall ask you as briefly10 as possible to state your case in detail. When I have heard it, if it appears to me that any good purpose can be served by my friend and myself coming to Cray’s Folly I feel sure that he will be happy to accept your proffered11 hospitality.”
“If I am likely to be of the slightest use I shall be delighted,” said I, which indeed was perfectly12 true.
Whilst I had willingly agreed to accompany Harley to Norfolk I had none of his passion for the piscatorial13 art, and the promise of novel excitement held out by Colonel Menendez appealed to me more keenly than the lazy days upon the roads which Harley loved.
“Gentlemen”—the Colonel bowed profoundly—“I am honoured and delighted. When you shall have heard my story I know what your decision will be.”
He resumed his seat, and began, it seemed almost automatically, to roll a fresh cigarette.
“I am all attention,” declared Harley, and his glance strayed again in a wondering fashion to the bat wing lying on his table.
“I will speak briefly,” resumed our visitor, “and any details which may seem to you to be important can be discussed later when you are my guests. You must know then that I first became acquainted with the significance belonging to the term ‘Bat Wing’ and to the object itself some twenty years ago.”
“But surely,” interrupted Harley, incredulously, “you are not going to tell me that the menace of which you complain is of twenty years’ standing14?”
“At your express request, Mr. Harley,” returned the Colonel a trifle brusquely, “I am dealing15 with possibilities which are remote, because in your own words it is sometimes the remote which proves to be the intimate. It was then rather more than twenty years ago, at a time when great political changes were taking place in the West Indies, that my business interests, which are mainly concerned with sugar, carried me to one of the smaller islands which had formerly16 been under—my jurisdiction17, do you say? Here I had a house and estate, and here in the past I had experienced much trouble with the natives.
“I do not disguise from you that I was unpopular, and on my return I met with unmistakable signs of hostility18. My native workmen were insubordinate. In fact, it was the reports from my overseers which had led me to visit the island. I made a tour of the place, believing it to be necessary to my interests that I should get once more in touch with negro feeling, since I had returned to my home in Cuba after the upheavals19 in ‘98. Very well.
“The manager of my estate, a capable man, was of opinion that there existed a secret organization amongst the native labourers operating—you understand?—against my interests. He produced certain evidences of this. They were not convincing; and all my enquiries and examinations of certain inhabitants led to no definite results. Yet I grew more and more to feel that enemies surrounded me.”
He paused to light his third cigarette, and whilst he did so I conjured20 up a mental picture of his “examinations of certain inhabitants.” I recalled hazily21 those stories of Spanish mismanagement and cruelty which had directly led to United States interferences in the islands. But whilst I could well believe that this man’s life had not been safe in those bad old days in the West Indies, I found it difficult to suppose that a native plot against his safety could have survived for more than twenty years and have come to a climax23 in England. However, I realized that there was more to follow, and presently, having lighted his cigarette, the Colonel resumed:
“In the neighbourhood of the hacienda which had once been my official residence there was a belt of low-lying pest country—you understand pest country?—which was a hot-bed of poisonous diseases. It followed the winding24 course of a nearly stagnant25 creek26. From the earliest times the Black Belt—it was so called—had been avoided by European inhabitants, and indeed by the coloured population as well. Apart from the malaria27 of the swampy28 ground it was infested29 with reptiles30 and with poisonous insects of a greater variety and of a more venomous character than I have ever known in any part of the world.
“I must explain that what I regarded as a weak point in my manager’s theory was this: Whilst he held that the native labourers to a man were linked together under some head, or guiding influence, he had never succeeded in surprising anything in the nature of a negro meeting. Indeed, he had prohibited all gatherings31 of this kind. His answer to my criticism was a curious one. He declared that the members of this mysterious society met and received their instructions at some place within the poison area to which I have referred, believing themselves there to be safe from European interference.
“For a long time I disputed this with poor Valera—for such was my manager’s name; when one night as I was dismounting from my horse before the veranda32, having returned from a long ride around the estate, a shot was fired from the border of the Black Belt which at one point crept up dangerously close to the hacienda.
“The shot was a good one. I had caught my spur in the stirrup in dismounting, and stumbled. Otherwise I must have been a dead man. The bullet pierced the crown of my hat, only missing my skull33 by an inch or less. The alarm was given. But no search-party could be mustered34, do you say?—which was prepared to explore the poison swamp—or so declared my native servants. Valera, however, seized upon this incident to illustrate35 his theory that there were those in the island who did not hesitate to enter the Black Belt popularly supposed to cast up noxious36 vapours at dusk of a sort fatal to any traveller.
“That night over our wine we discussed the situation, and he pointed37 out to me that now was the hour to test his theory. Orders had evidently been given for my assassination38 and the attempt had failed.
“‘There will be a meeting,’ said Valera, ‘to discuss the next move. And it will take place to-morrow night!’
“I challenged him with a glance and I replied:
“‘To-morrow night is a full moon, and if you are agreeable we will make a secret expedition into the swamp, and endeavour to find the clearing which you say is there, and which you believe to be the rendezvous39 of the conspirators40.’
“Even in the light of the lamp I saw Valera turn pale, but he was a Spaniard and a man of courage.
“‘I agree, señor,’ he replied. ‘If my information is correct we shall find the way.’
“I must explain that the information to which he referred had been supplied by a native girl who loved him. That this clearing was a meeting-place she had denied. But she had admitted that it was possible to obtain access to it, and had even described the path.” He paused. “She died of a lingering sickness.”
Colonel Menendez spoke41 these last words with great deliberation and treated each of us to a long and significant stare.
“Presently,” he added, “I will tell you what was nailed to the wall of her hut on the night that she fell ill. But to continue my narrative42. On the following evening, suitably equipped, Valera and myself set out, leaving by a side door and striking into the woods at a point east of the hacienda, where, according to his information, a footpath43 existed, which would lead us to the clearing we desired to visit. Of that journey, gentlemen, I have most terrible memories.
“Imagine a dense44 and poisonous jungle, carpeted by rotten vegetation in which one’s feet sank deeply and from which arose a visible and stenching vapour. Imagine living things, slimy things, moving beneath the tread, sometimes coiling about our riding boots, sometimes making hissing45 sounds. Imagine places where the path was overgrown, and we must thrust our way through bushes where great bloated spiders weaved their webs, where clammy night things touched us as we passed, where unfamiliar46 and venomous insects clung to our garments.
“We proceeded onward47 for more than half an hour guided by the moonlight, but this, although tropically brilliant, at some places scarcely penetrated48 the thick vapour which arose from the jungle. In those days I was a young and vigorous man; my companion was several years my senior; and his sufferings were far greater than my own. But if the jungle was horrible, worse was yet to come.
“Presently we stumbled upon an open space almost quite bare of vegetation, a poisonous green carpet spread in the heart of the woods. Here the vapour was more dense than ever, but I welcomed the sight of open ground after the reptile-infested thicket49. Alas50! it was a snare51, a death-trap, a sort of morass52, in which we sank up to our knees. Pah! it was filthy—vile! And I became aware of great—lassitude, do you say?—whilst Valera’s panting breath told that he had almost reached the end of his resources.
“A faint breeze moved through the clearing and for a few moments we were enabled to perceive one another more distinctly. I uttered an exclamation53 of horror.
“My companion’s garments were a mass of strange-looking patches.
“Even as I noticed them I glanced rapidly down—and found myself in similar condition. As I did so one of these patches upon the sleeve of my tunic54 intruded55 coldly upon my bare wrist. At that I cried out aloud in fear. Valera and I commenced what was literally56 a fight for life.
“Gentlemen, we were attacked by some kind of blood-red leeches57, which came out of the slime! In detaching them one detached patches of skin, and they swarmed58 over our bodies like ants upon carrion59.
“They penetrated beneath our garments, these swollen60, lustful61, unclean things; and it was whilst we staggered on through the swamp in agony of mind and body that we saw the light of many torches amid the trees ahead of us, and in their smoky glare witnessed the flight of hundreds of bats. The moonlight creeping dimly through the mist, and the torchlight—how do you say?—enflaming the vegetation, created a scene like that of Inferno62, in which naked figures danced wildly, uttering animal cries.
“Above the shrieking63 and howling, which rose and fell in a sort of unholy chorus, I heard one long, wailing64 sound, repeated and repeated. It was an African word. But I knew its meaning.
“It was ‘Bat Wing!’
“My doubts were dispersed65. This was a meeting-place of Devil-worshippers, or devotees of the cult22 of Voodoo! One man only could I see clearly so as to remember him, a big negro employed upon one of my estates. He seemed to be a sort of high priest or president of the orgies. Attached to his arms were giant imitations of bat wings which he moved grotesquely67 as if in flight. There were many women in the throng68, which numbered fully69 I should think a hundred people. But the final collapse70 of my brave, unhappy Valera at this point brought home to me the nature of the peril71 in which I stood.
“He lay at my feet, moving convulsively, and sinking ever deeper in the swamp, red leeches moving slowly, slowly over his fast-disappearing body.”
Colonel Menendez paused in his appalling72 narrative and wiped his moist forehead with a silk handkerchief. Neither Harley nor I spoke. I knew not if my friend believed the Spaniard’s story. For my own part I found it difficult to do so. But that the narrator was deeply moved was a fact beyond dispute.
He suddenly commenced again:
“My next recollection is of awakening73 in my own bed at the hacienda. I had staggered back as far as the veranda, in raving74 delirium75, and in the grip of a strange fever which prostrated76 me for many months, and which defied the knowledge of all the specialists who could be procured77 from Cuba and the United States. My survival was due to an iron constitution; but I have never been the same man. I was ordered to leave the West Indies directly it became possible for me to be moved. I arranged my affairs accordingly, and did not return for many years.
“Finally, however, I again took up my residence in Cuba, and for a time all went well, and might have continued to do so, but for the following incident. One night, being troubled by insomnia—sleeplessness—and the heat, I walked out on to the balcony in front of my bedroom window. As I did so, a figure which had been—you say lurking78?—somewhere under the veranda ran swiftly off; but not so swiftly that I failed to obtain a glimpse of the uplifted face.
“It was the big negro! Although many years had elapsed since I had seen him wearing the bat wings at those unholy rites79, I knew him instantly.
“On a little table close behind me where I stood lay a loaded revolver. I snatched it in a flash and fired shot after shot at the retreating figure.”
“Gentlemen,” he continued, “from that moment until this I have gone in hourly peril of my life. Whether I hit my man or missed him, I have never known to this day. If he lives or is dead I cannot say. But—” he paused impressively—“I have told you of something that was nailed to the hut of a certain native girl? Before she died I knew that it was a death-token.
“On the morning after the episode which I have just related attached to the main door of the hacienda was found that same token.”
“And it was??” said Harley, eagerly.
“It was the wing of a bat!
“I am perhaps a hasty man. It is in my blood. I tore the unclean thing from the panel and stamped it under my feet. No one of the servants who had drawn81 my attention to its presence would consent to touch it. Indeed, they all shrank from me as though I, too, were unclean. I endeavoured to forget it. Who was I to be influenced by the threats of natives?
“That night, just at the hour of sunset, a shot was fired at me from a neighbouring clump82 of trees, only missing me I think by the fraction of an inch. I realized that the peril was real, and was one against which I could not fight.
“Permit me to be brief, gentlemen. Six attempts of various kinds were made upon my life in Cuba. I crossed to the United States. In Washington, the political capital of the country, an assassin gained access to my hotel apartment and but for the fact that a friend chanced to call me up on the telephone at that late hour of the night, thereby83 awakening me, I should have received a knife in my heart. I saw the knife in the dim light; I saw the shadowy figure. I leapt out on the opposite side of the bed, seized a table-lamp which stood there, and hurled84 it at my assailant.
“There was a crash, a stifled85 exclamation, shuffling86, the door opened, and my would-be assassin was gone. But I had learned something, and to my old fears a new one was added.”
“What had you learned?” asked Harley, whose interest in the narrative was displayed by the fact that his pipe had long since gone out.
“Vaguely87, vaguely, you understand, for there was little light, I had seen the face of the man. He wore some kind of black cloak doubtless to conceal88 his movements. His silhouette89 resembled that of a bat. But, gentlemen, he was neither a negro nor even a half-caste; he was of the white races, to that I could swear.”
Colonel Menendez lighted the cigarette which he had been busily rolling, and fixed90 his dark eyes upon Harley.
“You puzzle me, sir,” said the latter. “Do you wish me to believe that this cult of Voodoo claims European or American devotees?”
“I wish you to believe,” returned the Colonel, “that although as the result of the alarm which I gave the hotel was searched and the Washington police exerted themselves to the utmost, no trace was ever found of the man who had tried to murder me, except”—he extended a long, yellow forefinger91, and pointed to the wing of the bat lying upon Harley’s table—“a bat wing was found pinned to my bedroom door.”
Silence fell for a while; an impressive silence. Truly this was the strangest story to which I had ever listened.
“How long ago was that?” asked Harley.
“Only two years ago. At about the time that the great war terminated. I came to Europe and believed that at last I had found security. I lived for a time in London amidst a refreshing92 peace that was new to me. Then, chancing to hear of a property in Surrey which was available, I leased it for a period of years, installing—is it correct?—my cousin, Madame de Stämer, as housekeeper93. Madame, alas, is an invalid94, but”—he kissed his fingers—“a genius. She has with her, as companion, a very charming English girl, Miss Val Beverley, the orphaned95 daughter of a distinguished96 surgeon of Edinburg. Miss Beverley was with my cousin in the hospital which she established in France during the war. If you will honour me with your presence at Cray’s Folly to-morrow, gentlemen, you will not lack congenial company, I can assure you.”
“For my own part,” said my friend, slowly, “I shall be delighted. What do you say, Knox?”
“I also.”
“But,” continued Harley, “your presence here today, Colonel Menendez, suggests to my mind that England has not proved so safe a haven98 as you had anticipated?”
Colonel Menendez crossed the room and stood once more before the Burmese cabinet, one hand resting upon his hip66; a massive yet graceful99 figure.
“Mr. Harley,” he replied, “four days ago my butler, who is a Spaniard, brought me—” He pointed to the bat wing lying upon the blotting pad. “He had found it pinned to an oaken panel of the main entrance door.”
“Was it prior to this discovery, or after it,” asked Harley, “that you detected the presence of someone lurking in the neighbourhood of the house?”
“Before it.”
“And the burglarious entrance?”
“That took place rather less than a month ago. On the eve of the full moon.”
Paul Harley stood up and relighted his pipe.
“There are quite a number of other details, Colonel,” he said, “which I shall require you to place in my possession. Since I have determined100 to visit Cray’s Folly, these can wait until my arrival. I particularly refer to a remark concerning a neighbour of yours in Surrey.”
Colonel Menendez nodded, twirling his cigarette between his long, yellow fingers.
“It is a delicate matter, gentlemen,” he confessed.
“I must take time to consider how I shall place it before you. But I may count upon your arrival tomorrow?”
“Certainly. I am looking forward to the visit with keen interest.”
“It is important,” declared our visitor; “for on Wednesday is the full moon, and the full moon is in some way associated with the sacrificial rites of Voodoo.”
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1
blotting
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| 吸墨水纸 | |
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possessed
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| adj.疯狂的；拥有的，占有的 | |
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alluring
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| adj.吸引人的，迷人的 | |
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nervously
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| adv.神情激动地，不安地 | |
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peculiar
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| adj.古怪的，异常的；特殊的，特有的 | |
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intrude
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| vi.闯入；侵入；打扰，侵扰 | |
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dexterously
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| adv.巧妙地，敏捷地 | |
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folly
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| n.愚笨，愚蠢，蠢事，蠢行，傻话 | |
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conspiracy
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| n.阴谋，密谋，共谋 | |
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briefly
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| adv.简单地，简短地 | |
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proffered
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| v.提供，贡献，提出( proffer的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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perfectly
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| adv.完美地，无可非议地，彻底地 | |
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piscatorial
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| adj.鱼的；渔业的 | |
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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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dealing
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| n.经商方法，待人态度 | |
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formerly
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| adv.从前，以前 | |
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jurisdiction
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| n.司法权，审判权，管辖权，控制权 | |
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hostility
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| n.敌对，敌意；抵制［pl.］交战，战争 | |
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upheavals
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| 突然的巨变( upheaval的名词复数 )； 大动荡； 大变动； 胀起 | |
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conjured
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| 用魔术变出( conjure的过去式和过去分词 )； 祈求，恳求； 变戏法； （变魔术般地） 使…出现 | |
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hazily
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| ad. vaguely, not clear | |
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cult
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| n.异教，邪教；时尚，狂热的崇拜 | |
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climax
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| n.顶点；高潮；v.(使)达到顶点 | |
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winding
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| n.绕，缠，绕组，线圈 | |
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stagnant
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| adj.不流动的，停滞的，不景气的 | |
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creek
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| n.小溪，小河，小湾 | |
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malaria
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| n.疟疾 | |
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swampy
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| adj.沼泽的，湿地的 | |
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infested
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| adj.为患的，大批滋生的（常与with搭配）v.害虫、野兽大批出没于( infest的过去式和过去分词 )；遍布于 | |
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reptiles
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| n.爬行动物，爬虫( reptile的名词复数 ) | |
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gatherings
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| 聚集( gathering的名词复数 )； 收集； 采集； 搜集 | |
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veranda
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| n.走廊；阳台 | |
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skull
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| n.头骨；颅骨 | |
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mustered
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| v.集合，召集，集结（尤指部队）( muster的过去式和过去分词 )；（自他人处）搜集某事物；聚集；激发 | |
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illustrate
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| v.举例说明，阐明；图解，加插图 | |
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noxious
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| adj.有害的，有毒的；使道德败坏的，讨厌的 | |
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pointed
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| adj.尖的，直截了当的 | |
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assassination
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| n.暗杀；暗杀事件 | |
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rendezvous
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| n.约会，约会地点，汇合点；vi.汇合，集合；vt.使汇合，使在汇合地点相遇 | |
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conspirators
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| n.共谋者，阴谋家( conspirator的名词复数 ) | |
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spoke
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| 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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narrative
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| n.叙述，故事；adj.叙事的，故事体的 | |
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footpath
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| n.小路，人行道 | |
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dense
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| a.密集的，稠密的，浓密的；密度大的 | |
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hissing
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| n. 发嘶嘶声, 蔑视 动词hiss的现在分词形式 | |
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unfamiliar
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| adj.陌生的，不熟悉的 | |
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onward
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| adj.向前的，前进的；adv.向前，前进，在先 | |
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penetrated
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| adj. 击穿的，鞭辟入里的 动词penetrate的过去式和过去分词形式 | |
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thicket
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| n.灌木丛，树林 | |
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50
alas
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| int.唉(表示悲伤、忧愁、恐惧等) | |
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51
snare
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| n.陷阱，诱惑，圈套；（去除息肉或者肿瘤的）勒除器；响弦，小军鼓；vt.以陷阱捕获，诱惑 | |
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52
morass
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| n.沼泽，困境 | |
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exclamation
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| n.感叹号，惊呼，惊叹词 | |
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tunic
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| n.束腰外衣 | |
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intruded
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| n.侵入的，推进的v.侵入，侵扰，打扰( intrude的过去式和过去分词 )；把…强加于 | |
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literally
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| adv.照字面意义，逐字地；确实 | |
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leeches
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| n.水蛭( leech的名词复数 )；蚂蟥；榨取他人脂膏者；医生 | |
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swarmed
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| 密集( swarm的过去式和过去分词 )； 云集； 成群地移动； 蜜蜂或其他飞行昆虫成群地飞来飞去 | |
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carrion
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| n.腐肉 | |
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swollen
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| adj.肿大的，水涨的；v.使变大，肿胀 | |
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lustful
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| a.贪婪的；渴望的 | |
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inferno
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| n.火海；地狱般的场所 | |
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63
shrieking
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| v.尖叫( shriek的现在分词 ) | |
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wailing
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| v.哭叫，哀号( wail的现在分词 )；沱 | |
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dispersed
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| adj. 被驱散的, 被分散的, 散布的 | |
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hip
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| n.臀部，髋；屋脊 | |
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grotesquely
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| adv. 奇异地,荒诞地 | |
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throng
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| n.人群，群众；v.拥挤，群集 | |
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fully
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| adv.完全地，全部地，彻底地；充分地 | |
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collapse
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| vi.累倒；昏倒；倒塌；塌陷 | |
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peril
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| n.(严重的)危险；危险的事物 | |
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appalling
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| adj.骇人听闻的，令人震惊的，可怕的 | |
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awakening
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| n.觉醒，醒悟 adj.觉醒中的；唤醒的 | |
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raving
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| adj.说胡话的；疯狂的，怒吼的；非常漂亮的；令人醉心[痴心]的v.胡言乱语(rave的现在分词)n.胡话；疯话adv.胡言乱语地；疯狂地 | |
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delirium
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| n. 神智昏迷,说胡话;极度兴奋 | |
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prostrated
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| v.使俯伏，使拜倒( prostrate的过去式和过去分词 )；（指疾病、天气等）使某人无能为力 | |
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procured
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| v.（努力）取得， （设法）获得( procure的过去式和过去分词 )；拉皮条 | |
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lurking
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| 潜在 | |
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rites
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| 仪式，典礼( rite的名词复数 ) | |
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shrugged
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| vt.耸肩（shrug的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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drawn
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| v.拖，拉，拔出；adj.憔悴的，紧张的 | |
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clump
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| n.树丛，草丛；vi.用沉重的脚步行走 | |
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thereby
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| adv.因此，从而 | |
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84
hurled
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| v.猛投，用力掷( hurl的过去式和过去分词 )；大声叫骂 | |
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stifled
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| （使）窒息， （使）窒闷( stifle的过去式和过去分词 )； 镇压，遏制； 堵 | |
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shuffling
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| adj. 慢慢移动的, 滑移的 动词shuffle的现在分词形式 | |
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vaguely
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| adv.含糊地，暖昧地 | |
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conceal
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| v.隐藏，隐瞒，隐蔽 | |
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89
silhouette
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| n.黑色半身侧面影，影子，轮廓；v.描绘成侧面影，照出影子来，仅仅显出轮廓 | |
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fixed
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| adj.固定的，不变的，准备好的；(计算机)固定的 | |
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forefinger
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| n.食指 | |
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refreshing
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| adj.使精神振作的，使人清爽的，使人喜欢的 | |
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housekeeper
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| n.管理家务的主妇，女管家 | |
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invalid
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| n.病人，伤残人；adj.有病的，伤残的；无效的 | |
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orphaned
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| [计][修]孤立 | |
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96
distinguished
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| adj.卓越的，杰出的，著名的 | |
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97
eyebrows
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| 眉毛( eyebrow的名词复数 ) | |
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98
haven
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| n.安全的地方，避难所，庇护所 | |
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99
graceful
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| adj.优美的，优雅的；得体的 | |
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100
determined
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| adj.坚定的；有决心的 | |
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