They dispersed6 to put abroad the news of that short furious quarrel and to prophesy7 that blood would be let in the adjusting of it. This prognostication the they based entirely8 upon their knowledge of the short Tressilian way. But it was a matter in which they were entirely wrong. It is true that Sir Oliver went galloping9 along that road that follows the Penryn river and that he pounded over the bridge in the town of Penryn in Master Godolphin’s wake with murder in his heart. Men who saw him riding wildly thus with the red wheal across his white furious face said that he looked a very devil.
He crossed the bridge at Penryn a half-hour after sunset, as dusk was closing into night, and it may be that the sharp, frosty air had a hand in the cooling of his blood. For as he reached the river’s eastern bank he slackened his breakneck pace, even as he slackened the angry galloping of his thoughts. The memory of that oath he had sworn three months ago to Rosamund smote10 him like a physical blow. It checked his purpose, and, reflecting this, his pace fell to an amble11. He shivered to think how near he had gone to wrecking12 all the happiness that lay ahead of him. What was a boy’s whiplash, that his resentment13 of it; should set all his future life in jeopardy14? Even though men should call him a coward for submitting to it and leaving the insult unavenged, what should that matter? Moreover, upon the body of him who did so proclaim him he could brand the lie of a charge so foolish. Sir Oliver raised his eyes to the deep sapphire15 dome16 of heaven where an odd star was glittering frostily, and thanked God from a swelling17 heart that he had not overtaken Peter Godolphin whilst his madness was upon him.
A mile or so below Penryn, he turned up the road that ran down to the ferry there, and took his way home over the shoulder of the hill with a slack rein18. It was not his usual way. He was wont19 ever to go round by Trefusis Point that he might take a glimpse at the walls of the house that harboured Rosamund and a glance at the window of her bower20. But to-night he thought the shorter road over the hill would be the safer way. If he went by Godolphin Court he might chance to meet Peter again, and his past anger warned him against courting such a meeting, warned him to avoid it lest evil should betide. Indeed, so imperious was the warning, and such were his fears of himself after what had just passed, that he resolved to leave Penarrow on the next day. Whither he would go he did not then determine. He might repair to London, and he might even go upon another cruise — an idea which he had lately dismissed under Rosamund’s earnest intercession. But it was imperative21 that he should quit the neighbourhood, and place a distance between Peter Godolphin and himself until such time as he might take Rosamund to wife. Eight months or so of exile; but what matter? Better so than that he should be driven into some deed that would compel him to spend his whole lifetime apart from her. He would write, and she would understand and approve when he told her what had passed that day.
The resolve was firmly implanted in him by the time he reached Penarrow, and he felt himself uplifted by it and by the promise it afforded him that thus his future happiness would be assured.
Himself he stabled his horse; for of the two grooms23 he kept, one had by his leave set out yesterday to spend Christmas in Devon with his parents, the other had taken a chill and had been ordered to bed that very day by Sir Oliver, who was considerate with those that served him. In the dining-room he found supper spread, and a great log fire blazed in the enormous cowled fire-place, diffusing24 a pleasant warmth through the vast room and flickering25 ruddily upon the trophies26 of weapons that adorned27 the walls, upon the tapestries28 and the portraits of dead Tressilians. Hearing his step, old Nicholas entered bearing a great candle-branch which he set upon the table.
“You’m late, Sir Oliver,” said the servant, “and Master Lionel bain’t home yet neither.”
Sir Oliver grunted29 and scowled30 as he crunched32 a log and set it sizzling under his wet heel. He thought of Malpas and cursed Lionel’s folly33, as, without a word, he loosed his cloak and flung it on an oaken coffer by the wall where already he had cast his hat. Then he sat down, and Nicholas came forward to draw off his boots.
When that was done and the old servant stood up again, Sir Oliver shortly bade him to serve supper.
“Master Lionel cannot be long now,” said he. “And give me to drink, Nick. ’Tis what I most require.”
“I’ve brewed34 ee a posset o’ canary sack,” announced Nicholas; “there’m no better supping o’ a frosty winter’s night, Sir Oliver.”
He departed to return presently with a black jack35 that was steaming fragrantly36. He found his master still in the same attitude, staring at the fire, and frowning darkly. Sir Oliver’s thoughts were still of his brother and Malpas, and so insistent37 were they that his own concerns were for the moment quite neglected; he was considering whether it was not his duty, after all, to attempt a word of remonstrance38. At length he rose with a sigh and got to table. There he bethought him of his sick groom22, and asked Nicholas for news of him. Nicholas reported the fellow to be much as he had been, whereupon Sir Oliver took up a cup and brimmed it with the steaming posset.
“Take him that,” he said. “There’s no better medicine for such an ailment39.”
Outside fell a clatter40 of hooves.
“Here be Master Lionel at last,” said the servant.
“No doubt,” agreed Sir Oliver. “No need to stay for him. Here is all he needs. Carry that to Tom ere it cools.”
It was his object to procure41 the servant’s absence when Lionel should arrive, resolved as he was to greet him with a sound rating for his folly. Reflection had brought him the assurance that this was become his duty in view of his projected absence from Penarrow; and in his brother’s interest he was determined42 not to spare him.
He took a deep draught43 of the posset, and as he set it down he heard Lionel’s step without. Then the door was flung open, and his brother stood on the threshold a moment at gaze.
Sir Oliver looked round with a scowl31, the well-considered reproof44 already on his lips.
“So. . . . ” he began, and got no further. The sight that met his eyes drove the ready words from his lips and mind; instead it was with a sharp gasp45 of dismay that he came immediately to his feet. “Lionel!”
Lionel lurched in, closed the door, and shot home one of its bolts. Then he leaned against it, facing his brother again. He was deathly pale, with great dark stains under his eyes; his ungloved right hand was pressed to his side, and the fingers of it were all smeared46 with blood that was still oozing47 and dripping from between them. Over his yellow doublet on the right side there was a spreading dark stain whose nature did not intrigue48 Sir Oliver a moment.
“My God!” he cried, and ran to his brother. “What’s happened, Lal? Who has done this?”
“Peter Godolphin,” came the answer from lips that writhed49 in a curious smile.
Never a word said Sir Oliver, but he set his teeth and clenched50 his hands until the nails cut into his palms. Then he put an arm about this lad he loved above all save one in the whole world, and with anguish51 in his mind he supported him forward to the fire. There Lionel dropped to the chair that Sir Oliver had lately occupied.
“What is your hurt, lad? Has it gone deep?” he asked, in terror almost.
“’Tis naught52 — a flesh wound; but I have lost a mort of blood. I thought I should have been drained or ever I got me home.”
With fearful speed Sir Oliver drew his dagger53 and ripped away doublet, vest, and shirt, laying bare the lad’s white flesh. A moment’s examination, and he breathed more freely.
“Art a very babe, Lal,” he cried in his relief. “To ride without thought to stanch54 so simple a wound, and so lose all this blood — bad Tressilian blood though it be.” He laughed in the immensity of his reaction from that momentary55 terror. “Stay thou there whilst I call Nick to help us dress this scratch.”
“No, no!” There was note of sudden fear in the lad’s voice, and his hand clutched at his brother’s sleeve. “Nick must not know. None must know, or I am undone56 else.”
Sir Oliver stared, bewildered. Lionel smiled again that curious twisted, rather frightened smile.
“I gave better than I took, Noll,” said he. “Master Godolphin is as cold by now as the snow on which I left him.”
His brother’s sudden start and the fixed57 stare from out of his slowly paling face scared Lionel a little. He observed, almost subconsciously58, the dull red wheal that came into prominence59 as the colour faded out of Sir Oliver’s face, yet never thought to ask how it came there. His own affairs possessed60 him too completely.
“What’s this?” quoth Oliver at last, hoarsely61.
Lionel dropped his eyes, unable longer to meet a glance that was becoming terrible.
“He would have it,” he growled62 almost sullenly63, answering the reproach that was written in every line of his brother’s taut64 body. “I had warned him not to cross my path. But to-night I think some madness had seized upon him. He affronted65 me, Noll; he said things which it was beyond human power to endure, and. . . . ” He shrugged66 to complete his sentence.
“Well, well,” said Oliver in a small voice. “First let us tend this wound of yours.”
“Do not call Nick,” was the other’s swift admonition. “Don’t you see, Noll?” he explained in answer to the inquiry67 of his brother’s stare, “don’t you see that we fought there almost in the dark and without witnesses. It. . . . ” he swallowed, “it will be called murder, fair fight though it was; and should it be discovered that it was I. . . . ” He shivered and his glance grew wild; his lips twitched68.
“I see,” said Oliver, who understood at last, and he added bitterly: “You fool!”
“I had no choice,” protested Lionel. “He came at me with his drawn69 sword. Indeed, I think he was half-drunk. I warned him of what must happen to the other did either of us fall, but he bade me not concern myself with the fear of any such consequences to himself. He was full of foul70 words of me and you and all whoever bore our name. He struck me with the flat of his blade and threatened to run me through as I stood unless I drew to defend myself. What choice had I? I did not mean to kill him — as God’s my witness, I did not, Noll.”
Without a word Oliver turned to a side-table, where stood a metal basin and ewer71. He poured water, then came in the same silence to treat his brother’s wound. The tale that Lionel told made blame impossible, at least from Oliver. He had but to recall the mood in which he himself had ridden after Peter Godolphin; he had but to remember, that only the consideration of Rosamund — only, indeed, the consideration of his future — had set a curb72 upon his own bloodthirsty humour.
When he had washed the wound he fetched some table linen73 from a press and ripped it into strips with his dagger; he threaded out one of these and made a preliminary crisscross of the threads across the lips of the wound — for the blade had gone right through the muscles of the breast, grazing the ribs74; these threads would help the formation of a clot75. Then with the infinite skill and cunning acquired in the course of his rovings he proceeded to the bandaging.
That done, he opened the window and flung out the blood-tinted water. The cloths with which he had mopped the wound and all other similar evidences of the treatment he cast upon the fire. He must remove all traces even from the eyes of Nicholas. He had the most implicit76 trust in the old servant’s fidelity77. But the matter was too grave to permit of the slightest risk. He realized fully78 the justice of Lionel’s fears that however fair the fight might have been, a thing done thus in secret must be accounted murder by the law.
Bidding Lionel wrap himself in his cloak, Sir Oliver unbarred the door, and went upstairs in quest of a fresh shirt and doublet for his brother. On the landing he met Nicholas descending79. He held him a moment in talk of the sick man above, and outwardly at least he was now entirely composed. He dispatched him upstairs again upon a trumped-up errand that must keep him absent for some little time, whilst himself he went to get the things he needed.
He returned below with them, and when he had assisted his brother into fresh garments with as little movement as possible so as not to disturb his dressing80 of the wound or set it bleeding afresh, he took the blood-stained doublet, vest, and shirt which he had ripped and flung them, too, into the great fire.
When some moments later Nicholas entered the vast room he found the brothers sitting composedly at table. Had he faced Lionel he would have observed little amiss with him beyond the deep pallor of his face. But he did not even do so much. Lionel sat with his back to the door and the servant’s advance into the room was checked by Sir Oliver with the assurance that they did not require him. Nicholas withdrew again, and the brothers were once more alone.
Lionel ate very sparingly. He thirsted and would have emptied the measure of posset, but that Sir Oliver restrained him, and refused him anything but water lest he should contract a fever. Such a sparing meal as they made — for neither had much appetite — was made in silence. At last Sir Oliver rose, and with slow, heavy steps, suggestive of his humour, he crossed to the fire-place. He threw fresh logs on the blaze, and took from the tall mantelshelf his pipe and a leaden jar of tobacco. He filled the pipe pensively81, then with the short iron tongs82 seized a fragment of glowing wood and applied83 it to the herb.
He returned to the table, and standing3 over his brother, he broke at last the silence that had now endured some time.
“What,” he asked gruffly, “was the cause of your quarrel?”
Lionel started and shrank a little; between finger and thumb he kneaded a fragment of bread, his eyes upon it. “I scarce know,” he replied.
“Lal, that is not the truth.”
“How?”
“’Tis not the truth. I am not to be put off with such an answer. Yourself you said that you had warned him not to cross your path. What path was in your mind?”
Lionel leaned his elbows on the table and took his head in his hands. Weak from loss of blood, overwrought mentally as well, in a state of revulsion and reaction also from the pursuit which had been the cause of to-night’s tragic84 affair, he had not strength to withhold85 the confidence his brother asked. On the contrary, it seemed to him that in making such a confidence, he would find a haven86 and refuge in Sir Oliver.
“’Twas that wanton at Malpas was the cause of all,” he complained. And Sir Oliver’s eye flashed at the words. “I deemed her quite other; I was a fool, a fool! I”— he choked, and a sob4 shook him —“I thought she loved me. I would have married her, I would so, by God.”
Sir Oliver swore softly under his breath.
“I believed her pure and good, and. . . . ” He checked. “After all, who am I to say even now that she was not? ’Twas no fault of hers. ’Twas he, that foul dog Godolphin, who perverted87 her. Until he came all was well between us. And then. . . . ”
“I see,” said Sir Oliver quietly. “I think you have something for which to thank him, if he revealed to you the truth of that strumpet’s nature. I would have warned thee, lad. But . . . Perhaps I have been weak in that.”
“It was not so; it was not she. . . . ”
“I say it was, and if I say so I am to be believed, Lionel. I’d smirch no woman’s reputation without just cause. Be very sure of that.”
Lionel stared up at him. “O God!” he cried presently, “I know not what to believe. I am a shuttle-cock flung this way and that way.”
“Believe me,” said Sir Oliver grimly. “And set all doubts to rest.” Then he smiled. “So that was the virtuous88 Master Peter’s secret pastime, eh? The hypocrisy89 of man! There is no plumbing90 the endless depths of it!”
He laughed outright91, remembering all the things that Master Peter had said of Ralph Tressilian — delivering himself as though he were some chaste92 and self-denying anchorite. Then on that laugh he caught his breath quite suddenly. “Would she know?” he asked fearfully. “Would that harlot know, would she suspect that ’twas your hand did this?”
“Aye — would she,” replied the other. “I told her to-night, when she flouted93 me and spoke94 of him, that I went straight to find him and pay the score between us. I was on my way to Godolphin Court when I came upon him in the park.”
“Then you lied to me again, Lionel. For you said ’twas he attacked you.”
“And so he did.” Lionel countered instantly. “He never gave me time to speak, but flung down from his horse and came at me snarling95 like a cross-grained mongrel. Oh, he was as ready for the fight as I— as eager.”
“But the woman at Malpas knows,” said Sir Oliver gloomily. “And if she tells. . . . ”
“She’ll not,” cried Lionel. “She dare not for her reputation’s sake.”
“Indeed, I think you are right,” agreed his brother with relief. “She dare not for other reasons, when I come to think of it. Her reputation is already such, and so well detested96 is she that were it known she had been the cause, however indirect, of this, the countryside would satisfy certain longings97 that it entertains concerning her. You are sure none saw you either going or returning?”
“None.”
Sir Oliver strode the length of the room and back, pulling at his pipe. “All should be well, then, I think,” said he at last. “You were best abed. I’ll carry you thither98.”
He took up his stripling brother in his powerful arms and bore him upstairs as though he were a babe.
When he had seen him safely disposed for slumber99, he returned below, shut the door in the hall, drew up the great oaken chair to the fire, and sat there far into the night smoking and thinking.
He had said to Lionel that all should be well. All should be well for Lionel. But what of himself with the burden of this secret on his soul? Were the victim another than Rosamund’s brother the matter would have plagued him but little. The fact that Godolphin was slain100, it must be confessed, was not in itself the source of his oppression. Godolphin had more than deserved his end, and he would have come by it months ago at Sir Oliver’s own hand but for the fact that he was Rosamund’s brother, as we know. There was the rub, the bitter, cruel rub. Her own brother had fallen by the hand of his. She loved her brother more than any living being next to himself, just as he loved Lionel above any other but herself. The pain that must be hers he knew; he experienced some of it in anticipation101, participating it because it was hers and because all things that were hers he must account in some measure his own.
He rose up at last, cursing that wanton at Malpas who had come to fling this fresh and terrible difficulty where already he had to face so many. He stood leaning upon the overmantel, his foot upon one of the dogs of the fender, and considered what to do. He must bear his burden in silence, that was all. He must keep this secret even from Rosamund. It split his heart to think that he must practise this deceit with her. But naught else was possible short of relinquishing102 her, and that was far beyond his strength.
The resolve adopted, he took up a taper103 and went off to bed.
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收听单词发音
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1
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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2
brace
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| n. 支柱,曲柄,大括号; v. 绷紧,顶住,(为困难或坏事)做准备 | |
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3
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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4
sob
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| n.空间轨道的轰炸机；呜咽，哭泣 | |
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5
rustics
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| n.有农村或村民特色的( rustic的名词复数 )；粗野的；不雅的；用粗糙的木材或树枝制作的 | |
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6
dispersed
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| adj. 被驱散的, 被分散的, 散布的 | |
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7
prophesy
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| v.预言；预示 | |
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8
entirely
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| ad.全部地，完整地；完全地，彻底地 | |
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9
galloping
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| adj. 飞驰的, 急性的 动词gallop的现在分词形式 | |
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10
smote
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| v.猛打，重击，打击( smite的过去式 ) | |
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amble
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| vi.缓行，漫步 | |
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wrecking
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| 破坏 | |
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resentment
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| n.怨愤，忿恨 | |
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jeopardy
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| n.危险；危难 | |
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sapphire
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| n.青玉，蓝宝石；adj.天蓝色的 | |
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dome
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| n.圆屋顶，拱顶 | |
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swelling
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| n.肿胀 | |
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rein
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| n.疆绳，统治，支配；vt.以僵绳控制，统治 | |
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wont
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| adj.习惯于；v.习惯；n.习惯 | |
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bower
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| n.凉亭，树荫下凉快之处；闺房；v.荫蔽 | |
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21
imperative
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| n.命令，需要；规则；祈使语气；adj.强制的；紧急的 | |
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22
groom
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| vt.给（马、狗等）梳毛，照料，使...整洁 | |
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grooms
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| n.新郎( groom的名词复数 )；马夫v.照料或梳洗（马等）( groom的第三人称单数 )；使做好准备；训练；（给动物）擦洗 | |
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24
diffusing
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| （使光）模糊，漫射，漫散( diffuse的现在分词 )； （使）扩散； （使）弥漫； （使）传播 | |
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25
flickering
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| adj.闪烁的，摇曳的，一闪一闪的 | |
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26
trophies
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| n.（为竞赛获胜者颁发的）奖品( trophy的名词复数 )；奖杯；（尤指狩猎或战争中获得的）纪念品；（用于比赛或赛跑名称）奖 | |
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adorned
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| [计]被修饰的 | |
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tapestries
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| n.挂毯( tapestry的名词复数 )；绣帷，织锦v.用挂毯（或绣帷）装饰( tapestry的第三人称单数 ) | |
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29
grunted
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| （猪等）作呼噜声( grunt的过去式和过去分词 )； （指人）发出类似的哼声； 咕哝着说 | |
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30
scowled
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| 怒视，生气地皱眉( scowl的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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scowl
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| vi.(at)生气地皱眉，沉下脸，怒视；n.怒容 | |
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32
crunched
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| v.嘎吱嘎吱地咬嚼( crunch的过去式和过去分词 )；嘎吱作响；（快速大量地）处理信息；数字捣弄 | |
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33
folly
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| n.愚笨，愚蠢，蠢事，蠢行，傻话 | |
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brewed
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| 调制( brew的过去式和过去分词 )； 酝酿； 沏（茶）； 煮（咖啡） | |
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35
jack
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| n.插座，千斤顶，男人；v.抬起，提醒，扛举；n.（Jake）杰克 | |
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36
fragrantly
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| adv.芬芳地；愉快地 | |
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37
insistent
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| adj.迫切的，坚持的 | |
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remonstrance
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| n抗议，抱怨 | |
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39
ailment
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| n.疾病，小病 | |
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40
clatter
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| v./n.(使)发出连续而清脆的撞击声 | |
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41
procure
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| vt.获得，取得，促成；vi.拉皮条 | |
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42
determined
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| adj.坚定的；有决心的 | |
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43
draught
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| n.拉，牵引，拖；一网（饮，吸，阵)；顿服药量，通风；v.起草，设计 | |
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44
reproof
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| n.斥责，责备 | |
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45
gasp
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| n.喘息，气喘；v.喘息；气吁吁他说 | |
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46
smeared
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| 弄脏； 玷污； 涂抹； 擦上 | |
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47
oozing
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| v.（浓液等）慢慢地冒出，渗出( ooze的现在分词 )；使（液体）缓缓流出；（浓液）渗出，慢慢流出 | |
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48
intrigue
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| vt.激起兴趣，迷住；vi.耍阴谋；n.阴谋，密谋 | |
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writhed
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| （因极度痛苦而）扭动或翻滚( writhe的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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50
clenched
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| v.紧握，抓紧，咬紧( clench的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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51
anguish
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| n.(尤指心灵上的)极度痛苦，烦恼 | |
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naught
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| n.无，零 [=nought] | |
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53
dagger
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| n.匕首，短剑，剑号 | |
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54
stanch
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| v.止住（血等）；adj.坚固的；坚定的 | |
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55
momentary
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| adj.片刻的，瞬息的；短暂的 | |
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56
undone
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| a.未做完的，未完成的 | |
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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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58
subconsciously
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| ad.下意识地，潜意识地 | |
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59
prominence
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| n.突出；显著；杰出；重要 | |
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60
possessed
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| adj.疯狂的；拥有的，占有的 | |
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61
hoarsely
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| adv.嘶哑地 | |
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62
growled
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| v.（动物）发狺狺声， （雷）作隆隆声( growl的过去式和过去分词 )；低声咆哮着说 | |
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63
sullenly
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| 不高兴地，绷着脸，忧郁地 | |
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taut
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| adj.拉紧的，绷紧的，紧张的 | |
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affronted
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| adj.被侮辱的，被冒犯的v.勇敢地面对( affront的过去式和过去分词 )；相遇 | |
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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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inquiry
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| n.打听，询问，调查，查问 | |
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68
twitched
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| vt.& vi.（使）抽动，（使）颤动（twitch的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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69
drawn
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| v.拖，拉，拔出；adj.憔悴的，紧张的 | |
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foul
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| adj.污秽的；邪恶的；v.弄脏；妨害；犯规；n.犯规 | |
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71
ewer
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| n.大口水罐 | |
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72
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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73
linen
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| n.亚麻布，亚麻线，亚麻制品；adj.亚麻布制的，亚麻的 | |
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ribs
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| n.肋骨( rib的名词复数 )；（船或屋顶等的）肋拱；肋骨状的东西；（织物的）凸条花纹 | |
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clot
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| n.凝块；v.使凝成块 | |
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76
implicit
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| a.暗示的，含蓄的，不明晰的，绝对的 | |
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fidelity
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| n.忠诚，忠实；精确 | |
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78
fully
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| adv.完全地，全部地，彻底地；充分地 | |
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descending
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| n. 下行 adj. 下降的 | |
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80
dressing
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| n.(食物)调料；包扎伤口的用品，敷料 | |
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pensively
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| adv.沉思地，焦虑地 | |
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82
tongs
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| n.钳；夹子 | |
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83
applied
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| adj.应用的；v.应用，适用 | |
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84
tragic
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| adj.悲剧的，悲剧性的，悲惨的 | |
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withhold
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| v.拒绝，不给；使停止，阻挡 | |
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haven
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| n.安全的地方，避难所，庇护所 | |
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87
perverted
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| adj.不正当的v.滥用( pervert的过去式和过去分词 )；腐蚀；败坏；使堕落 | |
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88
virtuous
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| adj.有品德的，善良的，贞洁的，有效力的 | |
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hypocrisy
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| n.伪善，虚伪 | |
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90
plumbing
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| n.水管装置；水暖工的工作；管道工程v.用铅锤测量（plumb的现在分词）；探究 | |
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outright
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| adv.坦率地；彻底地；立即；adj.无疑的；彻底的 | |
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chaste
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| adj.贞洁的；有道德的；善良的；简朴的 | |
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93
flouted
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| v.藐视，轻视( flout的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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94
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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95
snarling
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| v.（指狗）吠，嗥叫， （人）咆哮( snarl的现在分词 )；咆哮着说，厉声地说 | |
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96
detested
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| v.憎恶，嫌恶，痛恨( detest的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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97
longings
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| 渴望，盼望( longing的名词复数 ) | |
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98
thither
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| adv.向那里；adj.在那边的，对岸的 | |
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99
slumber
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| n.睡眠，沉睡状态 | |
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100
slain
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| 杀死，宰杀，杀戮( slay的过去分词 )； (slay的过去分词) | |
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101
anticipation
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| n.预期，预料，期望 | |
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102
relinquishing
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| 交出，让给( relinquish的现在分词 )； 放弃 | |
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103
taper
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| n.小蜡烛，尖细，渐弱；adj.尖细的；v.逐渐变小 | |
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