Porterfield's benign8, almost priestly countenance9 assumed an expression of theatrical10 solemnity as if he had read something really terrible in the tea leaves. "Then what happens today?" Lily clasped her hands tensely and bent11 her head fractionally closer to get the full impact of the news. "The old man says, 'Porterfield. A bottle of Infuriator. You understand? A full bottle!' So of course I didn't say anything but went off and brought it to him. But you mark my words, Lily"-he noticed a lifted hand down the long room and moved off-"there's something hit Sir Miles hard this morning and no mistake."
M. sent for his bill. As usual he paid, whatever the amount of the bill, with a five-pound note for the pleasure of receiving in change crisp new pound notes, new silver and gleaming copper12 pennies, for it is the custom at Blades to give its members only freshly minted money. Porterfield pulled back his table and M. walked quickly to the door, acknowledging the occasional greeting with a preoccupied13 nod and a brief lifting of the hand. It was two o'clock. The old black Phantom14 Rolls took him quietly and quickly northwards through Berkeley Square, across Oxford15 Street and via Wigmore Street, into Regent's Park. M. didn't look out at the passing scene. He sat stiffly in the back, his bowler16 hat squarely set on the middle of his head, and gazed unseeing at the back of the chauffeur's head with hooded17, brooding eyes.
For the hundredth time, since he had left his office that morning, he assured himself that his decision was right. If James Bond could be straightened out-and M. was certain that that supreme18 neurologist, Sir James Molony, could bring it off-it would be ridiculous to re-assign him to normal staff duties in the Double-O Section. The past could be forgiven, but not forgotten-except with the passage of time. It would be most irksome for those in the know to have Bond moving about Headquarters as if nothing had happened. It would be doubly embarrassing for M. to have to face Bond across that desk. And James Bond, if aimed straight at a known target-M. put it in the language of battleships-was a supremely19 effective firing-piece. Well, the target was there and it desperately20 demanded destruction. Bond had accused M. of using him as a tool. Naturally. Every officer in, the Service was a tool for one secret purpose or another. The problem on hand could only be solved by a killing21. James Bond would not possess the Double-O prefix22 if he had not high talents, frequently proved, as a gunman. So be it! In exchange for the happenings of that morning, in expiation23 of them, Bond must prove himself at his old skills. If he succeeded, he would have regained24 his prevous status. If he failed, well, it would be a death for which he would be honoured. Win or lose, the plan would solve a vast array of problems. M. closed his mind once and for all on his decision. He got out of the car and went up in the lift to the eighth floor and along the corridor, smelling the smell of some unknown disinfectant more and more powerfully as he approached his office.
Instead of using his key to the private entrance at the end of the corridor M. turned right, through Miss Money-penny's door. She was sitting in her usual place, typing away at the usual routine correspondence. She got to her feet.
"What's this dreadful stink25, Miss Moneypenny?" "I don't know what it's called, sir. Head of Security brought along a squad26 from Chemical Warfare27 at the War Office. He says your office is all right to use again but to keep the windows open for a while. So I've turned on the heating. Chief of Staff isn't back from lunch yet, but he told me to tell you that everything you wanted done is under way. Sir James is operating until four but will expect your call after that. Here's the file you wanted, sir."
M. took the brown folder28 with the red Top Secret star in its top right-hand corner. "How's 007? Did he come round all right?"
Miss Moneypenny's face was expressionless. "I gather so, sir. The M.O. gave him a sedative29 of some kind, and he was taken off on a stretcher during the lunch hours. He was covered up. They took him down in the service lift to the garage. I haven't had any inquiries30."
"Good. Well, bring me in the signals, would you. There's been a lot of tune31 wasted today on all these domestic excitements." Carrying the brown folder, M. went through the door into his office. Miss Moneypenny brought in the signals and stood dutifully beside him while he went through them, occasionally dictating32 a comment or a query33. She looked down at the bowed, iron-grey head with the bald patch polished for years by a succession of naval34 caps and wondered, as she had wondered so often over the past ten years, whether she loved or hated this man. One thing was certain. She respected him more than any man she had known or had read of.
M. handed her the file. "Thank you. Now just give me a quarter of an hour, and then I'll see whoever wants me. The call to Sir James has priority of course."
M. opened the brown folder, reached for his pipe and began absent-mindedly filling it as he glanced through the list of subsidiary files to see if there was any other docket he immediately needed. Then he set a match to his pipe and settled back in his chair and read:
FRANCISCO (PACO) "PISTOLS" SCARAMANGA
And underneath35, in lower-case type:
Free-lance assassin mainly under K.G.B. control through D.S.S., Havana, Cuba, but often as an independent operator for other organizations, in the Caribbean and Central American states. Has caused widespread damage, particularly to the S.S., but also to C.I.A. and other friendly services, by murder and scientific maiming since 1959, the year when Castro came to power and which seems also to have been the trigger for Scaramanga's operations. Is widely feared and admired in said territory throughout which he appears, despite police precautions, to have complete freedom of access. Has thus become something of a local myth and is known in his "territory" as The Man with the Golden Gun-a reference to his main weapon which is a gold-plated, long-barrelled, single-action Colt .45. He uses special bullets with a heavy, soft (24 ct.) gold core jacketed with silver and cross-cut at the tip, on the dum-dum principle, for maximum wounding effect. Himself loads and artifices36 this ammunition37. Is responsible for the death of 267 (British Guiana), 398 (Trinidad), 943 (Jamaica), and 768 and 742 (Havana), and for the maiming and subsequent retirement38 from the S.S. of 098, Area Inspection39 Officer, by bullet wounds in both knees. (See above references in Central Records for Scaramanga's victims in Martinique, Haiti, and Panama.)
description: Age about 35. Height 6 ft. 3 in. Slim and fit. Eyes, light brown. Hair reddish in a crew cut. Long sideburns. Gaunt, sombre face with thin pencil moustache, brownish. Ears very flat to the head. Ambidextrous40. Hands very large and powerful and immaculately manicured. Distinguishing marks: a third nipple about two inches below his left breast. (N.B. In Voodoo and allied41 local cults42 this is considered a sign of invulnerability and great sexual prowess.) Is an insatiable but indiscriminate womanizer who invariably has sexual intercourse43 shortly before a killing in the belief that it improves his "eye." (N.B. A belief shared by many professional lawn tennis players, golfers, gun and rifle marksmen, and others.)
origins: A relative of the Catalan family of circus managers of the same name with whom he spent his youth. Self-educated. At the age of 16 (after the incident described below under motivation) emigrated illegally to the United States where he lived a life of petty crime on the fringes of the gangs until he graduated as a full-time44 gunman for The Spangled Mob in Nevada with the cover of pitboy in the casino of the Tiara Hotel in Las Vegas where in fact he acted as executioner of cheats and other transgressors within and outside The Mob. In 1958 was forced to flee the States as the result of a famous duel45 against his opposite number for the Detroit Purple Gang, a certain Ramon "The Rod" Rodriguez, which took place by moonlight on the third green of the Thunderbird golf course at Las Vegas. (Scaramanga got two bullets into the heart of his opponent before the latter had fired a shot. Distance 20 paces.) Believed to have been compensated46 by The Mob with $100,000. Travelled the whole Caribbean area investing fugitive47 funds for various Las Vegas interests and later, as his reputation for keen and successful dealing48 in real estate and plantations49 became consolidated50, for Trujillo of the Dominican Republic and Batista of Cuba. In 1959 settled in Havana and, seeing the way the wind blew, while remaining ostensibly a Batista man, began working undercover for the Castro party, and after the revolution, obtained an influential51 post as foreign "enforcer" for the D.S.S. In this capacity, on behalf, that is, of the Cuban secret police, he undertook the assassinations52 mentioned above.
passport: Various, including Cuban diplomatic.
disguises: None. They are not necessary. The myth surrounding this man, the equivalent, let us say, of that surrounding the most famous film star, and the fact that he has no police record, have hitherto given him complete freedom of movement and indemnity53 from interference in "his" territory. In most of the islands and mainland republics which constitute this territory, he has groups of admirers (e.g., the Rastafari in Jamaica) and commands powerful pressure groups who give him protection and succour when called upon to do so. Moreover, as the ostensible54 purchaser, and usually the legal front, for the "hot money" properties mentioned above, he has legitimate55 access, frequently supported by his diplomatic status, to any part of his territory.
resources: Considerable but of unknown extent. Travels on various credit cards of the Diners' Club variety. Has a numbered account with the union des Banques de Credit, Zurich, and appears to have no difficulty in obtaining foreign currency from the slim resources of Cuba when he needs it.
motivation: (Comment by C.C.). . . .
M. refilled and relit his pipe, which had died. What had gone before was routine information which added nothing to his basic knowledge of the man. What followed would be of more interest. "C.C." covered the identity of a former Regius Professor of History at Oxford who lived a- to M.-pampered existence at Headquarters in a small and-in M.'s opinion-overcomfortable office. In between -again in M.'s opinion-overluxurious and overlong meals at the Garrick Club, he wandered, at his ease, into Headquarters, examined such files as the present one, asked questions and had signals of inquiry56 sent, and then delivered his judgment57. But M., for all his prejudices against the man, his haircut, the casualness of his clothes, what he knew of his way of life, and the apparently58 haphazard59 processes of his ratiocination60, appreciated the sharpness of the mind, the knowledge of the world, that C.C. brought to his task, and, so often, the accuracy of his judgments61. In short, M. always enjoyed what C.C. had to say, and he now picked up the file again with relish62.
I am interested in this man [wrote C.C.] and I have caused, inquiries to be made on a somewhat wider front than usual, since it is not common to be confronted with a secret agent who it at once so much of a public figure and yet appears to be infinitely63 successful in the difficult and dangerous field of his choice-that of being, in common parlance64, "a gun for hire." I think I may have found the origin of this partiality for killing his fellow men in cold blood, men against whom he has no personal animosity but merely the reflected animosity of his employers, in the following bizarre anecdote65 from his youth. In the travelling circus of his father, Enrico Scaramanga, the boy had several roles. He was a most spectacular trick shot, he was a stand-in strong man in the acrobatic troop, often taking the place of the usual artiste as bottom man in the "human pyramid" act, and he was the mahout, in gorgeous turban, Indian robes, etc., who rode the leading elephant in a troupe66 of three. This elephant, by the name of Max, was a male, and it is a peculiarity67 of the male elephant, which I have learned with much interest and verified with eminent68 zoologists69, that, at intervals70 during the year, they go "on heat" sexually. During these pe-. nods, a mucous71 deposit forms behind the animal's ears and this needs to be scraped off since otherwise it causes the elephant intense irritation72. Max developed this symptom during a visit of the circus to Trieste, but, through an oversight73, the condition was not noticed and given the necessary treatment. The big top of the circus had been erected74 on the outskirts75 of the town adjacent to the coastal76 railway line and, on the night which was, in my opinion, to determine the future way of life of the young Scaramanga, Max went berserk, threw the youth, and, screaming horrifically, trampled77 his way through the auditorium78, causing many casualties, and charged off across the fairground and onto the railway line, down which (a frightening spectacle under the full moon which, as newspaper cuttings record, was shining on that night) he galloped79 at full speed. The local carabinieri were alerted and set off in pursuit by car along the main road that flanks the railway line. In due course they caught up with the unfortunate monster, which, his frenzy80 expired, stood peacefully facing back the way he had come. Not realizing that the elephant, if approached by his handler, could now be led peacefully back to his stall, the police opened rapid fire and bullets from their carbines and revolvers wounded the animal superficially in many places. Infuriated afresh, the miserable81 beast, now pursued by the police car from which the hail of fire continued, charged off again along the railway line. On arrival at the fairground, the elephant seemed to recognize his home, the big top, and, turning off the railway line, lumbered82 back through the fleeing spectators to the centre of the deserted83 arena84, and there, weakened by loss of blood, pathetically continued with his interrupted act. Trumpeting85 dreadfully in his agony, the mortally wounded Max endeavoured again and again to raise himself and stand upon one leg. Meanwhile the young Scaramanga, now armed with his pistols, tried to throw a lariat86 over the animal's head while calling out the "elephant talk" with which he usually controlled him. Max seems to have recognized the youth and-it must have been a truly pitiful sight-lowered his trunk to allow the youth to be hoisted87 to his usual seat behind the elephant's head. But at this moment the police burst into the sawdust ring, and their captain, approaching very close, emptied his revolver into the elephant's right eye at a range of a few feet, upon which Max fell dying to the ground. Upon this, the young Scaramanga who, according to the press, had a deep devotion for his charge, drew one of his pistols and shot the policeman through the heart, and fled off into the crowd of bystanders pursued by the other policemen who could not fire because of the throng88 of people. He made good his escape, found his way south to Naples, and thence, as noted89 above, stowed away to America.
Now, I see in this dreadful experience a possible reason for the transformation90 of Scaramanga into the most vicious gunman of recent years. In him was, I believe, born on that day a cold-blooded desire to avenge91 himself on all humanity. That the elephant had run amok and trampled many innocent people, that the man truly responsible was his handler, and that the police were only doing their duty, would be, psychopathologically, either forgotten or deliberately92 suppressed by a youth of hot-blooded stock whose subconscious93 had been so deeply lacerated. At all events, Scaramanga's subsequent career requires some explanation, and I trust I am not being fanciful in putting forward my own prognosis from the known facts.
M. rubbed the bowl of his pipe thoughtfully down the side of his nose. Well, fair enough! He turned back to the file.
I have comment, [wrote C.C.] to make on this man's alleged94 sexual potency95 when seen in relation to his profession. It is a Freudian thesis, with which I am inclined to agree, that the pistol, whether in the hands of an amateur or of a professional gunman, has significance for the owner as a symbol of virility-an extension of the male organ-and that excessive interests in guns (e.g., gun collections and gun clubs) is a form of fetishism. The partiality of Scaramanga for a particularly showy variation of weapon and his use of silver and gold bullets clearly point, I think, to his being a slave to this fetish-and, if I am right, I have doubts about his alleged sexual prowess, for the lack of which his gun fetish would be either a substitute or a compensation. I have also noted, from a "profile" of this man in Time magazine, one fact which supports my thesis that Scaramanga may be sexually abnormal. In listing his accomplishments96, Time notes, but does not comment upon, the fact that this man cannot whistle. Now it may only be myth, and it is certainly not medical science, but there is a popular theory that a man who cannot whistle has homosexual tendencies. (At this point, the reader may care to experiment and, from his self-knowledge, help to prove or disprove this item of folklore97!-C.C.)
M. hadn't whistled since he was a boy. Unconsciously his mouth pursed and a clear note was emitted. He uttered an impatient "tchah!" and continued with his reading.
So I would not be surprised to learn that Scaramanga is not the Casanova of popular fancy. Passing to the wider implications of gunmanship, we enter the realms of the Adlerian power urge as compensation for the inferiority complex, and here I will quote some well-turned phrases of a certain Mr. Harold L. Peterson in his preface to his finely illustrated98 The Book of the Gun (published by Paul Hamlyn). Mr. Peterson writes:
"In the vast array of things man has invented to better his condition, few have fascinated him more than the gun. Its function is simple; as Oliver Winchester said, with nineteenth-century complacency, 'A gun is a machine for throwing balls.' But its ever-increasing efficiency in performing this task, and its awesome99 ability to strike home from long range, have given it tremendous psychological appeal.
"For possession of a gun and the skill to use it enormously augments100 the gunner's personal power, and extends the radius101 of his influence and effect a thousand times beyond his arm's length. And since strength resides in the gun, the man who wields102 it may be less than strong without being disadvantaged. The flashing sword, the couched lance, the bent longbow performed to the limit of the man who held it. The gun's power is inherent and needs only to be released. A steady eye and an accurate aim are enough. Wherever the muzzle103 points, the bullet goes, bearing the gunner's wish or intention swiftly to the target. . . . Perhaps more than any other implement104, the gun has shaped the course of nations and the destiny of men."
In the Freudian thesis, "his arm's length" would become the length of the masculine organ. But we need not linger over these esoterica. The support for my premise105 is well expressed in Mr. Peterson's sinewy106 prose and-though I would substitute the printing press for the gun in his concluding paragraph- his points are well taken. The subject, Scaramanga, is, in my opinion, a paranoiac107 in subconscious revolt against the father figure (i.e., the figure of authority) and a sexual fetishist with possible homosexual tendencies. He has other qualities which are self-evident from the earlier testimony108. In conclusion, and having regard to the damage he has already wrought109 upon the personnel of the S.S., I conclude that his career should be terminated with the utmost dispatch-if necessary by the inhuman110 means he himself employs -in the unlikely event an agent of equal courage and dexterity111 can be made available. [Signed "C.C."]
Beneath, at the end of the docket, the Head of the Caribbean and Central American Section had minuted "I concur," signed "C.A." To this Chief of Staff had added, in red ink, "Noted. C.O.S."
M. gazed into space for perhaps five minutes. Then he reached for his pen and, in green ink, scrawled112 the word Action? followed by the italic, authoritative113 M.
Then he sat very still for another five minutes and wondered if he had signed James Bond's death warrant.
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21 killing | |
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36 artifices | |
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37 ammunition | |
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68 eminent | |
adj.显赫的,杰出的,有名的,优良的 | |
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69 zoologists | |
动物学家( zoologist的名词复数 ) | |
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70 intervals | |
n.[军事]间隔( interval的名词复数 );间隔时间;[数学]区间;(戏剧、电影或音乐会的)幕间休息 | |
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71 mucous | |
adj. 黏液的,似黏液的 | |
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72 irritation | |
n.激怒,恼怒,生气 | |
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73 oversight | |
n.勘漏,失察,疏忽 | |
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74 ERECTED | |
adj. 直立的,竖立的,笔直的 vt. 使 ... 直立,建立 | |
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75 outskirts | |
n.郊外,郊区 | |
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76 coastal | |
adj.海岸的,沿海的,沿岸的 | |
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77 trampled | |
踩( trample的过去式和过去分词 ); 践踏; 无视; 侵犯 | |
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78 auditorium | |
n.观众席,听众席;会堂,礼堂 | |
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79 galloped | |
(使马)飞奔,奔驰( gallop的过去式和过去分词 ); 快速做[说]某事 | |
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80 frenzy | |
n.疯狂,狂热,极度的激动 | |
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81 miserable | |
adj.悲惨的,痛苦的;可怜的,糟糕的 | |
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82 lumbered | |
砍伐(lumber的过去式与过去分词形式) | |
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83 deserted | |
adj.荒芜的,荒废的,无人的,被遗弃的 | |
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84 arena | |
n.竞技场,运动场所;竞争场所,舞台 | |
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85 trumpeting | |
大声说出或宣告(trumpet的现在分词形式) | |
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86 lariat | |
n.系绳,套索;v.用套索套捕 | |
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87 hoisted | |
把…吊起,升起( hoist的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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88 throng | |
n.人群,群众;v.拥挤,群集 | |
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89 noted | |
adj.著名的,知名的 | |
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90 transformation | |
n.变化;改造;转变 | |
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91 avenge | |
v.为...复仇,为...报仇 | |
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92 deliberately | |
adv.审慎地;蓄意地;故意地 | |
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93 subconscious | |
n./adj.潜意识(的),下意识(的) | |
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94 alleged | |
a.被指控的,嫌疑的 | |
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95 potency | |
n. 效力,潜能 | |
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96 accomplishments | |
n.造诣;完成( accomplishment的名词复数 );技能;成绩;成就 | |
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97 folklore | |
n.民间信仰,民间传说,民俗 | |
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98 illustrated | |
adj. 有插图的,列举的 动词illustrate的过去式和过去分词 | |
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99 awesome | |
adj.令人惊叹的,难得吓人的,很好的 | |
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100 augments | |
增加,提高,扩大( augment的名词复数 ) | |
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101 radius | |
n.半径,半径范围;有效航程,范围,界限 | |
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102 wields | |
手持着使用(武器、工具等)( wield的第三人称单数 ); 具有; 运用(权力); 施加(影响) | |
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103 muzzle | |
n.鼻口部;口套;枪(炮)口;vt.使缄默 | |
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104 implement | |
n.(pl.)工具,器具;vt.实行,实施,执行 | |
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105 premise | |
n.前提;v.提论,预述 | |
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106 sinewy | |
adj.多腱的,强壮有力的 | |
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107 paranoiac | |
n.偏执狂患者 | |
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108 testimony | |
n.证词;见证,证明 | |
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109 wrought | |
v.引起;以…原料制作;运转;adj.制造的 | |
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110 inhuman | |
adj.残忍的,不人道的,无人性的 | |
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111 dexterity | |
n.(手的)灵巧,灵活 | |
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112 scrawled | |
乱涂,潦草地写( scrawl的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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113 authoritative | |
adj.有权威的,可相信的;命令式的;官方的 | |
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