The gathering12 was a very quiet one Ponto’s house, situated13 in the dismally14 aesthetic15 region of Chiswick, was a small but elegant artistic16 villa17, furnished in the superbest spirit of enlightened chilliness18 and elegant squalor. There, in a tiny reception room with golden-spotted walls and a cerulean ceiling, some dozen gentlemen and about half a dozen ladies assembled; among the company being the young aesthetic poets, Botticelli Jones and Omar Milde; Lady Milde, mother of the bard20, known in her girlhood as the fair ‘Lachryma’ of the albums; Gass and Barbius, Ponto’s brother-critics; the editor of the ‘Megatherium’; Clothilde Max, daughter of the Teutonic patriot21, Hermann Max; and a few others. The affair was affecting, if not festive22. There were gay spongecakes and nondescript confectionery on a sideboard, together with the finest Marsala wine, for those who sought refreshment23. When, in a few well-chosen words, Ponto wished Godspeed to the guest of the evening, several persons present were dismally affected24. Gavrolles, more than usually jubilant, replied, thanking perfidious25 Albion, in the person of its noblest representatives, for their cordial treatment of him, a stranger, an exile. He had come to them on his merits, a poor artiste, a lover of the beautiful, a pupil of Gautier, and they had received him as a brother. He should bear back to his beloved Paris the memory of their kindness. He should inform his countrymen that France and England were thenceforth bound together by a tie stronger than all commercial treaties—the tie of sympathy in poetic26 aspirations27, in divine Art. He should tell his compatriots that even in England, despite its Philistinism, despite its climate, there were singers as sweet and critics as profound as even those who possessed28 the inestimable advantages of a Parisian education. Need he mention, as a sample of all that was superb in song, his friend, Botticelli Jones? Need he cite, as an example of all that was subtle in perception and perfect in expression, the name of his friend and host—nay, might he not say, his brother?—Ponto, prince of critics?
The lank29 and limp ladies clung around him, with every expression of sympathy and affection, until the hour of parting came. Then Gavrolles, with tears in his eyes, read aloud, with considerable emphasis, a French sonnet30 which he had composed for the occasion, and in which the names of many present were touchingly31 introduced. This effusion was afterwards passed from hand to hand until it reached the editor of the ‘Megatherium,’ who claimed the privilege of publishing it in the forthcoming number of his journal, along with a reply (in the same language) from Young Botticelli Jones. Finally, the party separated, and Gavrolles, triumphant32, drove home to his lodgings33 in a hansom cab.
The next evening, bearing with him in a small portmanteau and a morocco hand-bag all his worldly goods, Gavrolles left Charing34 Cross by the night mail, en route for Boulogne.
It was a wild wintry night, pitch dark, with gusts35 of rain and sleet36; even the station looked dreary37 and forlorn, despite the pale brilliance38 of the electric light. Wrapt in a large travelling cloak, profusely39 trimmed with fur, and wearing an artistic felt hat, the broad brim of which was drawn40 down over his face, Gavrolles strolled up and down the platform with a theatrical41 swagger, taking care to clutch always his little handbag of black morocco. When the ticket office opened he approached the aperture42, and, opening a purse full of bright new sovereigns, took a first-class ticket to Boulogne. He looked at nobody, heeded43 nobody, he seemed too obviously wrapt up in his own happy thoughts. His air, his walk, the feverishly44 delighted laugh in which he indulged from time to time, all seemed to betoken45 some special good fortune; and what wonder, seeing he had that very day cashed a large open cheque—payable to ‘Bearer’—at a London bank, and afterwards, at a neighbouring money-changer’s, converted the greater portion of the amount into glittering coin of the French realm.
Perhaps, had he been less jubilant and self-involved, he might have taken some little notice of his fellow-passengers—particularly of two individuals who, closely wrapped up and muffled46 almost to the eyes, observed him from a distance, listened in the shadow when, in a loud voice, he demanded his ticket, and then, after he had withdrawn47, took two tickets, also for Boulogne, but second-class.
The express left London and plunged48 into the darkness. Gavrolles found himself alone—for there were few passengers that night—in the smoking compartment49 of a first-class carriage. While the rain hissed50 upon the window pane51, and the noise of the train drowned even the roaring of the wind, he opened his little handbag, and eagerly recounted his treasure. His eye glittered with delight as he fingered the glittering gold pieces, and found them all safe. Then he wrapt his cloak around him, and resigned himself to a doze19.
At Folkestone the weather looked ugly in the extreme; the wind roared, and the sea flashed in the darkness, while the packet rocked and throbbed52 with an uneasy motion. At first Gavrolles hesitated, but his horror of sea-sickness yielded to his intense longing53 to be again among certain choice spirits on his native soil, and with a few shivering compatriots he crept on board. Among those who followed him were the two men who had watched him so curiously54 at Charing Cross.
The passage was a miserable55 one. Gavrolles, to whom expense was no consideration when he was in funds, occupied the deck cabin, and suffered agonies through seasickness56. In the grey of a wintry morning, he alighted, a piteous spectacle, ghastly, dishevelled, hideous57, on the quay58 at Boulogne.
Among the groups assembled to see the voyagers alight was a white-haired woman, respectably but plainly dressed in black. She watched the passengers alighting one by one, until her eye fell upon a sinister-looking individual smoking, with serene59 defiance60 of the elements, a clay pipe. She at once greeted him by name, and, leading him aside, accosted62 him in French.
‘What! do you come alone? Where are those in your charge?’
‘Calm yourself, madame,’ said the man with gruff politeness. ‘I shall fulfil my contract. They would not cross in such weather.’
‘But they remain?’
‘Safe in the charge of my wife, at Folkestone. You will find two of them charming; the third not so good-looking, but très gentille. As I wrote you, one is a domestic servant, another a tradesman’s runaway63 daughter, the third a figurante of the theatre. They all seek situations, which I have promised them, as you are aware.’ ‘But do they understand? With the last there was a scandal, and I want no more trouble.’
‘Trust my wife, madame; there will be no difficulty. As usual, when they find themselves under your kind care, they will behave discreetly64.’
At this juncture65 Gavrolles crawled up the gangway, the picture of misery66 and collapse67. No sooner did the woman espy68 him than she uttered an exclamation69.
‘I see another friend!’ she exclaimed to her companion. ‘Go on to my house, and await me there.’
Gavrolles, followed by a porter carrying his portmanteau, elbowed his way along the pier70. Suddenly he felt a touch upon his arm, and, turning sharply, saw the woman.
‘Well met, Belleisle!’ she said with a grim smile and a not too amiable71 compression of the lips.
So worn and washed out was the cosmic creature that at the first glance he failed to recognise his old companion, Madame de Fontenay.
‘What!’ she exclaimed. ‘Do you forget me?’
At last, his glazed72 and fish-like countenance73 expressed a dim and irritated recognition.
‘Is it you, Madame Louise?’
‘Yes; it is I!—And you? It is many a long day since we met, though I have often inquired after you in vain. You are a sly rascal74, Belleisle; you forget old friends, old services, old debts. Ah! but I remember.’
‘I have been in England,’ replied Gavrolles, surveying her with strong dislike.
‘Ah, yes, so I heard. Have you been fortunate there, mon ami?’
‘On the contrary. But you? You live here?’
‘Yes,’ said the woman.
‘You follow the old trade, madame?’
The woman nodded, and the two passed on in conversation. Gavrolles did not look back, or he would have seen, still watching him with curiosity, the two men who had followed him from Charing Cross.
Gavrolles slept that night in the H?tel de Rouen, a chilly75 place, half-hotel, half-prison, in a back street of Boulogne. Here he had the pleasure of meeting two or three gentlemen of his acquaintance, who earned their money at the card table and in the billiard room, and spent it in dingy76 dissipation, like cavaliers of pleasure.
With one of these individuals, an elderly man in a seedy military undress, and with the face and manners of a fire-eater, Gavrolles strolled out next morning, cigar in mouth. Roaming along by the sea, he came face to face, in a quiet spot, with two Englishmen—James Forster and Edgar Sutherland.
Gavrolles started and turned livid, clinging to his companion’s arm, as Sutherland accosted him.
‘I salute77 you, Monsieur Gavrolles. A word with you, if you please.’
‘What do you seek with me?’ cried Gavrolles, shrilly78, ‘I see you are not alone. If monsieur le mari yonder wishes to recede79 from his bargain, it is too late. As for you, monsieur, I once warned you; and, as we are no longer in England, beware!’
Sutherland smiled. Forster, who looked pale as death, was about to interpose, when the younger man continued: ‘Monsieur Gavrolles, it is precisely80 because we are no longer in England that I accost61 you. Once, in London, you did me the honour to express a hope that we might meet on French soil. It was simply to realise that hope that my friend supplied you with money. You came—we followed—you understand?’
Gavrolles shrank back from the powerful figure, and eyed the determined81 face with baleful hate.
‘I have no quarrel with you. I—I do not know you.’ Before Sutherland could say another word Forster interfered82.
‘The man is right. As I said to you from the first—his quarrel is with me. Listen to me, man!’ he continued, facing Gavrolles. ‘I am not a duellist83, I know nothing of your weapons, but unless you consent to fight me I shall have you arrested as an extortioner and a thief.
You are still wanted in London, and if you refuse——’
Gavrolles, who had been watching the speaker keenly, and had paid particular attention to his words, answered with a scowl:—
‘With you it is another affair, monsieur. I am at your service.’
‘When?’
‘As soon as you please. I am sorry that we could not end our little disagreement amicably84, but since you are determined——’
And Gavrolles shrugged85 his shoulders.
Sutherland pulled Forster aside, while Gavrolles, with an ugly smile, turned and volubly explained matters to his companion.
‘You are mad!’ Sutherland cried. ‘You should have left this affair to me. He is an expert duellist, and may kill you.’
‘And if he does, so much the better.’
‘You are determined?’
‘Yes. For God’s sake settle the matter as soon as possible.’
Here Gavrolles’ companion with pompous86 dignity approached Sutherland.
‘Monsieur, that is my card. I am the Chevalier de Beauvoisin, and I represent my friend. Where and when can I see you and arrange the preliminaries?’
‘Now, on this spot.’
The two men walked aside, and remained for some minutes in conversation. Then Sutherland returned to Forster, took his arm, and led him away.
‘It is arranged for to-morrow at daybreak,’ he said, ‘on the sands yonder, two miles from Boulogne. As you are the challenger, they had the choice of weapons. They have chosen pistols.’
‘Very well.’
‘Have you ever practised at a mark?’
Forster-shook his head.
‘I have never fired a pistol in my life.’
‘Then it is an ugly affair. Let me entreat87 you, accept me as your substitute—I will force them to consent——’
‘No,’ answered Forster with determination. ‘It is my place, not yours. I shall either avenge88 my poor martyred wife or follow her to the grave.’
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1 inmate | |
n.被收容者;(房屋等的)居住人;住院人 | |
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2 immortal | |
adj.不朽的;永生的,不死的;神的 | |
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3 frankly | |
adv.坦白地,直率地;坦率地说 | |
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4 notably | |
adv.值得注意地,显著地,尤其地,特别地 | |
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5 sublime | |
adj.崇高的,伟大的;极度的,不顾后果的 | |
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6 fiery | |
adj.燃烧着的,火红的;暴躁的;激烈的 | |
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7 compensate | |
vt.补偿,赔偿;酬报 vi.弥补;补偿;抵消 | |
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8 salons | |
n.(营业性质的)店( salon的名词复数 );厅;沙龙(旧时在上流社会女主人家的例行聚会或聚会场所);(大宅中的)客厅 | |
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9 beckoned | |
v.(用头或手的动作)示意,召唤( beckon的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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10 cosmos | |
n.宇宙;秩序,和谐 | |
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11 reluctance | |
n.厌恶,讨厌,勉强,不情愿 | |
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12 gathering | |
n.集会,聚会,聚集 | |
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13 situated | |
adj.坐落在...的,处于某种境地的 | |
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14 dismally | |
adv.阴暗地,沉闷地 | |
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15 aesthetic | |
adj.美学的,审美的,有美感 | |
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16 artistic | |
adj.艺术(家)的,美术(家)的;善于艺术创作的 | |
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17 villa | |
n.别墅,城郊小屋 | |
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18 chilliness | |
n.寒冷,寒意,严寒 | |
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19 doze | |
v.打瞌睡;n.打盹,假寐 | |
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20 bard | |
n.吟游诗人 | |
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21 patriot | |
n.爱国者,爱国主义者 | |
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22 festive | |
adj.欢宴的,节日的 | |
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23 refreshment | |
n.恢复,精神爽快,提神之事物;(复数)refreshments:点心,茶点 | |
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24 affected | |
adj.不自然的,假装的 | |
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25 perfidious | |
adj.不忠的,背信弃义的 | |
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26 poetic | |
adj.富有诗意的,有诗人气质的,善于抒情的 | |
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27 aspirations | |
强烈的愿望( aspiration的名词复数 ); 志向; 发送气音; 发 h 音 | |
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28 possessed | |
adj.疯狂的;拥有的,占有的 | |
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29 lank | |
adj.瘦削的;稀疏的 | |
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30 sonnet | |
n.十四行诗 | |
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31 touchingly | |
adv.令人同情地,感人地,动人地 | |
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32 triumphant | |
adj.胜利的,成功的;狂欢的,喜悦的 | |
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33 lodgings | |
n. 出租的房舍, 寄宿舍 | |
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34 charing | |
n.炭化v.把…烧成炭,把…烧焦( char的现在分词 );烧成炭,烧焦;做杂役女佣 | |
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35 gusts | |
一阵强风( gust的名词复数 ); (怒、笑等的)爆发; (感情的)迸发; 发作 | |
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36 sleet | |
n.雨雪;v.下雨雪,下冰雹 | |
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37 dreary | |
adj.令人沮丧的,沉闷的,单调乏味的 | |
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38 brilliance | |
n.光辉,辉煌,壮丽,(卓越的)才华,才智 | |
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39 profusely | |
ad.abundantly | |
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40 drawn | |
v.拖,拉,拔出;adj.憔悴的,紧张的 | |
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41 theatrical | |
adj.剧场的,演戏的;做戏似的,做作的 | |
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42 aperture | |
n.孔,隙,窄的缺口 | |
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43 heeded | |
v.听某人的劝告,听从( heed的过去式和过去分词 );变平,使(某物)变平( flatten的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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44 feverishly | |
adv. 兴奋地 | |
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45 betoken | |
v.预示 | |
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46 muffled | |
adj.(声音)被隔的;听不太清的;(衣服)裹严的;蒙住的v.压抑,捂住( muffle的过去式和过去分词 );用厚厚的衣帽包着(自己) | |
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47 withdrawn | |
vt.收回;使退出;vi.撤退,退出 | |
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48 plunged | |
v.颠簸( plunge的过去式和过去分词 );暴跌;骤降;突降 | |
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49 compartment | |
n.卧车包房,隔间;分隔的空间 | |
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50 hissed | |
发嘶嘶声( hiss的过去式和过去分词 ); 发嘘声表示反对 | |
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51 pane | |
n.窗格玻璃,长方块 | |
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52 throbbed | |
抽痛( throb的过去式和过去分词 ); (心脏、脉搏等)跳动 | |
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53 longing | |
n.(for)渴望 | |
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54 curiously | |
adv.有求知欲地;好问地;奇特地 | |
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55 miserable | |
adj.悲惨的,痛苦的;可怜的,糟糕的 | |
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56 seasickness | |
n.晕船 | |
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57 hideous | |
adj.丑陋的,可憎的,可怕的,恐怖的 | |
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58 quay | |
n.码头,靠岸处 | |
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59 serene | |
adj. 安详的,宁静的,平静的 | |
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60 defiance | |
n.挑战,挑衅,蔑视,违抗 | |
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61 accost | |
v.向人搭话,打招呼 | |
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62 accosted | |
v.走过去跟…讲话( accost的过去式和过去分词 );跟…搭讪;(乞丐等)上前向…乞讨;(妓女等)勾搭 | |
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63 runaway | |
n.逃走的人,逃亡,亡命者;adj.逃亡的,逃走的 | |
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64 discreetly | |
ad.(言行)审慎地,慎重地 | |
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65 juncture | |
n.时刻,关键时刻,紧要关头 | |
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66 misery | |
n.痛苦,苦恼,苦难;悲惨的境遇,贫苦 | |
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67 collapse | |
vi.累倒;昏倒;倒塌;塌陷 | |
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68 espy | |
v.(从远处等)突然看到 | |
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69 exclamation | |
n.感叹号,惊呼,惊叹词 | |
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70 pier | |
n.码头;桥墩,桥柱;[建]窗间壁,支柱 | |
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71 amiable | |
adj.和蔼可亲的,友善的,亲切的 | |
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72 glazed | |
adj.光滑的,像玻璃的;上过釉的;呆滞无神的v.装玻璃( glaze的过去式);上釉于,上光;(目光)变得呆滞无神 | |
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73 countenance | |
n.脸色,面容;面部表情;vt.支持,赞同 | |
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74 rascal | |
n.流氓;不诚实的人 | |
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75 chilly | |
adj.凉快的,寒冷的 | |
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76 dingy | |
adj.昏暗的,肮脏的 | |
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77 salute | |
vi.行礼,致意,问候,放礼炮;vt.向…致意,迎接,赞扬;n.招呼,敬礼,礼炮 | |
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78 shrilly | |
尖声的; 光亮的,耀眼的 | |
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79 recede | |
vi.退(去),渐渐远去;向后倾斜,缩进 | |
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80 precisely | |
adv.恰好,正好,精确地,细致地 | |
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81 determined | |
adj.坚定的;有决心的 | |
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82 interfered | |
v.干预( interfere的过去式和过去分词 );调停;妨碍;干涉 | |
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83 duellist | |
n.决斗者;[体]重剑运动员 | |
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84 amicably | |
adv.友善地 | |
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85 shrugged | |
vt.耸肩(shrug的过去式与过去分词形式) | |
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86 pompous | |
adj.傲慢的,自大的;夸大的;豪华的 | |
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87 entreat | |
v.恳求,恳请 | |
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88 avenge | |
v.为...复仇,为...报仇 | |
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