more than I was a month ago, even. (What did Pearson say about the apartment? Your other letter made no mention.) And for a couple of ironic62 reasons: you see, with the passing of these last few nightmare weeks here in this house I came to raze63, living with these ogres I came to annihilate64, I had contracted a malady65 I thought myself completely immunized against; I had come down with a bad case of Benevolence66, with complications of Fondness and Distended67 Sympathy. You laugh? You snigger in your affected68 lipbeard that I could let my resistance run so low as to fall victim to that virus? Well, if you do, I can only point next door and smugly say, “Okay, my snide friend, you live three weeks in the same house with that chick and let’s see if you can keep up your resistance!” For I believe that ’twas she, the chick, the wildwoods flower wife of my sworn-destroyed brother, that stayed my vengeful hand and, till now, has kept my wrath69 from falling. Three weeks lost in my plot. Because, you must understand, it was she that my mind sought out as the undipped heel of my Achilles-like brother, and she was the only thing in the house which I hesitated to harm. This bind70 was brought to stalemate by the fact that my brother has been especially nice to me; I couldn’t hate him quite enough to offset71 my fondness for the girl. It was even-steven. Until tonight. You should, Peters, at this point, begin to detect the plot line even though you join the story one hundred pages deep. To sum up, in as you have missed the first four installments72 there are only these facts to establish: Bitter Leland Stanford Stamper returns home intending to do his older half-brother some unconceived but horrible harm for diddling young Leland’s mama, but in spite of his good intentions he has gradually been duped into sympathy for the arch step-fiend: we find Leland at the start of this episode, pitifully drunken and reasonless after an evening’s sipping73 of this sympathy. Things look bad. It looks like he’s going under. But, as you shall see, an unusual incident, almost a miracle, snaps our hero to his senses. It is this miracle for which I now give thanks by lighting21 this second joint at the altar of the Great God Pot. . . . We had just returned from a little foray into the woods and snacked on the leftovers74 of Viv’s wonderful supper, and I had been waxing more and more banal75 as the evening wore on, and somehow the conversation between myself and my brother had wandered arm-in-drunken-arm through talk of school—“What actual is it you been studying?”—to talk of graduation— “Watcha aim to do with it to make a living?”—to talk of this and that and finally to the talk of music, of all things, Peters, music! To tell you the truth I can’t recall how we arrived at the subject— alcohol, exhaustion76 and pot have eroded77 the edges from my memory—but it seems we were discussing (discussing, I wish you to note; we had even reached the point of discussion ...a long way in three weeks from silent plotting of sinister78 doom) discussing the merits of life in the lovely but provincial79 West Coast as compared to the sophisticated but ugly East Coast when, in the course of championing the East, I mentioned that the one edge that the West Coasters must concede to the East was that it boasted far greater opportunities to hear good music. Hank was ready to concede no such thing ...listen: “Be easy,” said he in his quaint way, “ain’t you awriting your own numbers on the scale? What you reckon to be good music up against what my ideas are...might not fit all the notches80. Just what do you mean ‘good music’?” I was in a philanthropic state of mind so for the sake of argument I agreed to meet him on a fair ground; remembering the old, remorseless driving rhythm and blues81 78’s of Joe Turner and Fats Domino that Hank used to assail82 my boyhood nights with, I agreed we would speak only of jazz. And after the usual amount of hemming83 and hawing and beating around the bush we got down to the thing all jazz enthusiasts84 are always working toward with their discussions; we went to get out our records. Hank commenced rummaging85 through drawers and boxes. From my suitcase upstairs I carried down my locked attaché case of favorites. But once again Hank and I realized very quickly that, even though we had arbitrated Jazz the Good Music we would discuss, we were still worlds apart as to what was Good Jazz. (They sat for a long time, across the room from each other, elbows on knees, head down . . . concentrating as though playing chess, the moves coming at the end of each band: Lee played a selection from Brubeck; Hank played Joe Williams singing “Red Sails in the Sunset”; Lee played Fred Katz; Hank countered with Fats Domino . . .) “That stuff of yours,” said Hank, “sounds like the musicians all squat86 to pee. La lee la lee la lee.” “That stuff of yours,” said I, “sounds like the musicians all suffer from St. Vitus’ Dance. Bam bam bam bam, the epileptic stomp—” (“Now look a minute,” Hank said, aiming his finger at Lee “what do you think them guys learn them horns for? Learn to sing that for? Huh? Well it ain’t just to show how good they can finger the keys. Or to show how foxy they are at making some plumbline, T-square, to-the-inch... some kinda, oh, precision arrangement; da duh de da da; da duh dee da da . . . that crap. Bub, that sort of stuff might be a lot of fun for some white piano player who graduated from music college, something he can try ’n’ work out like a crossword87 puzzle, but a man who learns to blow so he can blow jazz, he isn’t worried what kinda grade some professor’s giving him!” “Why, will you listen to him, Viv,” Lee said. “Brother Hank has let the cat out of the bag; he can articulate about more than the price of the cut fir per board feet or the wretched state of our donkey engine, or the ‘sonofabitching’ union! He does have the power of speech in spite of other rumors88.” Hank dropped his head and grinned. “Shit now”—he rubbed the tip of his nose with the knuckle89 of his thumb—“I guess I did get up on a soapbox for a minute there. But I suppose, it comes down to it, there’s a lot to what you say; it used to be that if there is one thing—other than the sonofabitchin’ union—that I could get a good heat going on, it was music. We useta—me and Mel Sorenson, and Henderson and that bunch...Joe Ben, too, before he got saved so big—useta sit for hours in Harvey’s cycle shop down in Coos Bay listening to this great collection Harvey played all the time . . . and you should have heard us then! We thought Joe Turner had come right outa heaven to give us the skinny. We thought somebody was finally playing our music—this was after listening to hillbilly-Western till we foundered90. I mean there was sides taken, the Western fans and the rhythm and blues fans ...we had real fights about it! We were ripe to fight about something anyway; I decided once that most of our bunch were mad ’cause we’d got cheated outa fightin’ the Japs and Germans and didn’t know yet we had Korea to fight about. So those first bop records made good causes.” Hank let his head sink to rest on the back of the chair, closed his eyes on his reverie, and reminisced for a few minutes about obscure tenormen and drummers completely unmindful of the boneless dance of Jimmy Giuffre on the phonograph... “But you may be right,” he said, finishing up along with the last few bars of Lee’s Giuffre record; “I probably haven’t kept up with what’s been going on. But I know one thing: that old blues and boogie and bop had some man to it.”) And Hank said, “That manure91 they’re playin’ there hasn’t got any more balls than it does beat. I like somethin’ with a little more balls on it.” And I said, “Such a prejudice must limit you terribly.” And he said, “Are we gonna be like that?” And I said, “I should think you would want to at least exclude such things as the female sex from such a sweeping92 statement.” And he said, “I should think this outfit93 snuggling her little tail up against me here would make a qualification like that pretty damned unnecessary, but, if you are goin’ to be hard-nosed about it ...” But I waved it off (see: still trying to be fair, a Good Guy) and said, “Sorry, Hank, sorry.” Then, my friend—to show you how grave my affliction was, how deeply rooted the cancer—I went so far as to attempt to repair the rent my tongue had sliced in our tender new fellowship. I said I had been only jesting and that, Sure brother, I understand what you were talking about that music was meant for. I told him that there were, in fact, two recognized schools of Jazz, Black Jazz and White Jazz, and that what he was referring to as Masculine was no doubt the Black Jazz school.

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收听单词发音

1
rattled
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慌乱的,恼火的 | |
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2
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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3
swollen
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adj.肿大的,水涨的;v.使变大,肿胀 | |
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ragged
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adj.衣衫褴褛的,粗糙的,刺耳的 | |
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overlapping
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adj./n.交迭(的) | |
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transparent
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adj.明显的,无疑的;透明的 | |
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snipped
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v.剪( snip的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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bickers
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v.争吵( bicker的第三人称单数 );口角;(水等)作潺潺声;闪烁 | |
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9
whines
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n.悲嗥声( whine的名词复数 );哀鸣者v.哀号( whine的第三人称单数 );哀诉,诉怨 | |
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haggle
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vi.讨价还价,争论不休 | |
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incurred
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[医]招致的,遭受的; incur的过去式 | |
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12
edgy
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adj.不安的;易怒的 | |
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soothe
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v.安慰;使平静;使减轻;缓和;奉承 | |
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moth
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n.蛾,蛀虫 | |
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bucks
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n.雄鹿( buck的名词复数 );钱;(英国十九世纪初的)花花公子;(用于某些表达方式)责任v.(马等)猛然弓背跃起( buck的第三人称单数 );抵制;猛然震荡;马等尥起后蹄跳跃 | |
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16
battered
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adj.磨损的;v.连续猛击;磨损 | |
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17
rumbling
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n. 隆隆声, 辘辘声 adj. 隆隆响的 动词rumble的现在分词 | |
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18
ass
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n.驴;傻瓜,蠢笨的人 | |
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nervously
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adv.神情激动地,不安地 | |
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20
thighs
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n.股,大腿( thigh的名词复数 );食用的鸡(等的)腿 | |
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21
lighting
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n.照明,光线的明暗,舞台灯光 | |
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quaint
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adj.古雅的,离奇有趣的,奇怪的 | |
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decided
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adj.决定了的,坚决的;明显的,明确的 | |
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24
solace
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n.安慰;v.使快乐;vt.安慰(物),缓和 | |
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joint
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adj.联合的,共同的;n.关节,接合处;v.连接,贴合 | |
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kit
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n.用具包,成套工具;随身携带物 | |
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opium
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n.鸦片;adj.鸦片的 | |
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silicon
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n.硅(旧名矽) | |
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romp
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n.欢闹;v.嬉闹玩笑 | |
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30
primroses
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n.报春花( primrose的名词复数 );淡黄色;追求享乐(招至恶果) | |
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hip
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n.臀部,髋;屋脊 | |
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frustration
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n.挫折,失败,失效,落空 | |
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rant
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v.咆哮;怒吼;n.大话;粗野的话 | |
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rave
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vi.胡言乱语;热衷谈论;n.热情赞扬 | |
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immortal
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adj.不朽的;永生的,不死的;神的 | |
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scrap
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n.碎片;废料;v.废弃,报废 | |
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languish
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vi.变得衰弱无力,失去活力,(植物等)凋萎 | |
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transcribe
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v.抄写,誉写;改编(乐曲);复制,转录 | |
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joints
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接头( joint的名词复数 ); 关节; 公共场所(尤指价格低廉的饮食和娱乐场所) (非正式); 一块烤肉 (英式英语) | |
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gasp
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n.喘息,气喘;v.喘息;气吁吁他说 | |
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enjoyment
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n.乐趣;享有;享用 | |
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homage
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n.尊敬,敬意,崇敬 | |
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physically
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adj.物质上,体格上,身体上,按自然规律 | |
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sadistic
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adj.虐待狂的 | |
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45
fumbling
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n. 摸索,漏接 v. 摸索,摸弄,笨拙的处理 | |
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rusty
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adj.生锈的;锈色的;荒废了的 | |
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solely
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adv.仅仅,唯一地 | |
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gargantuan
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adj.巨大的,庞大的 | |
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49
bunked
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v.(车、船等倚壁而设的)铺位( bunk的过去式和过去分词 );空话,废话 | |
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50
whacked
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a.精疲力尽的 | |
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51
stump
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n.残株,烟蒂,讲演台;v.砍断,蹒跚而走 | |
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52
radius
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n.半径,半径范围;有效航程,范围,界限 | |
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53
nettles
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n.荨麻( nettle的名词复数 ) | |
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54
blisters
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n.水疱( blister的名词复数 );水肿;气泡 | |
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55
respite
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n.休息,中止,暂缓 | |
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56
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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57
puff
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n.一口(气);一阵(风);v.喷气,喘气 | |
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58
prehistoric
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adj.(有记载的)历史以前的,史前的,古老的 | |
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59
beset
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v.镶嵌;困扰,包围 | |
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60
slings
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抛( sling的第三人称单数 ); 吊挂; 遣送; 押往 | |
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61
outrageous
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adj.无理的,令人不能容忍的 | |
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62
ironic
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adj.讽刺的,有讽刺意味的,出乎意料的 | |
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63
raze
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vt.铲平,把(城市、房屋等)夷为平地,拆毁 | |
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64
annihilate
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v.使无效;毁灭;取消 | |
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65
malady
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n.病,疾病(通常做比喻) | |
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66
benevolence
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n.慈悲,捐助 | |
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distended
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v.(使)膨胀,肿胀( distend的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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68
affected
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adj.不自然的,假装的 | |
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69
wrath
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n.愤怒,愤慨,暴怒 | |
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70
bind
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vt.捆,包扎;装订;约束;使凝固;vi.变硬 | |
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71
offset
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n.分支,补偿;v.抵消,补偿 | |
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72
installments
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部分( installment的名词复数 ) | |
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73
sipping
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v.小口喝,呷,抿( sip的现在分词 ) | |
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74
leftovers
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n.剩余物,残留物,剩菜 | |
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banal
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adj.陈腐的,平庸的 | |
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76
exhaustion
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n.耗尽枯竭,疲惫,筋疲力尽,竭尽,详尽无遗的论述 | |
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77
eroded
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adj. 被侵蚀的,有蚀痕的 动词erode的过去式和过去分词形式 | |
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sinister
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adj.不吉利的,凶恶的,左边的 | |
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provincial
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adj.省的,地方的;n.外省人,乡下人 | |
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80
notches
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n.(边缘或表面上的)V型痕迹( notch的名词复数 );刻痕;水平;等级 | |
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81
blues
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n.抑郁,沮丧;布鲁斯音乐 | |
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82
assail
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v.猛烈攻击,抨击,痛斥 | |
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83
hemming
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卷边 | |
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84
enthusiasts
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n.热心人,热衷者( enthusiast的名词复数 ) | |
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85
rummaging
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翻找,搜寻( rummage的现在分词 ); 海关检查 | |
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86
squat
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v.蹲坐,蹲下;n.蹲下;adj.矮胖的,粗矮的 | |
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87
crossword
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n.纵横字谜,纵横填字游戏 | |
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88
rumors
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n.传闻( rumor的名词复数 );[古]名誉;咕哝;[古]喧嚷v.传闻( rumor的第三人称单数 );[古]名誉;咕哝;[古]喧嚷 | |
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89
knuckle
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n.指节;vi.开始努力工作;屈服,认输 | |
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90
foundered
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v.创始人( founder的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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91
manure
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n.粪,肥,肥粒;vt.施肥 | |
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92
sweeping
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adj.范围广大的,一扫无遗的 | |
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outfit
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n.(为特殊用途的)全套装备,全套服装 | |
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