AS IF THEY WERE THE DEGENERATE1 ELITE2 OF ancient Rome, reclining in midbacchanal, their togas scandalously disarranged, the nameless dead revealed here a smooth and creamy shoulder, here the pale curve of a breast, here a blue-veined thigh3, here a hand with the fingers curled in a subtle obscene gesture, here a delicate foot and slender ankle, and here half a profile in which one open eye stared with milky4 lust5.
The least-superstitious witness to this grotesque6 display might be inclined to suspect that in the absence of a living observer, these unidentified vagrants7 and teenage runaways8 would visit bunk9 to bunk. In the most lonely hours after midnight, might not the restless dead pair up in a cold and hideous10 parody11 of passion?
If Corky Laputa had believed in a moral code or even if he had believed that good taste required certain universal rules of social conduct, he might have passed his two-minute wait by rearranging these carelessly draped shrouds14, insisting upon modesty15 even among the deceased.
Instead, he enjoyed the scene because in this chamber16 was the ultimate fruit of anarchy17. Besides, with considerable excitement, “he [178] anticipated the arrival of the usually unflappable Roman Castevet, who would be fully18 flapped on this occasion.
Almost two minutes to the tick, the lever-action door handle clicked, creaked, and eased down. The door cracked open, but only an inch.
As though he expected to discover that Corky awaited him with a camera crew and a pack of muckraking reporters, Roman peered through the gap, his one revealed eye as wide as that of a startled owl19.
“Come in, come, come,” Corky encouraged. “You’re among friends here, even though it is your intention eventually to dissect20 some of them.”
Opening the door only wide enough to accommodate his thin frame, Roman slipped into the cadaver21 vault22, pausing to peer back worriedly at the hallway before closing himself in with Corky and the twenty naughty members of the toga party.
“What the hell are you wearing?” asked the nervous pathologist.
Corky turned in place, flaring23 the skirt of his yellow slicker. “Fashionable rain gear. Do you like the hat?”
“How did you slip by security in that ludicrous outfit24? How did you slip by security at all?”
“No slipping necessary. I presented my credentials25.”
“What credentials? You teach empty-calorie modern fiction to a bunch of self-important sluts and brain-dead, snot-nosed wonder-boys.”
Like many in the sciences, Roman Castevet held a dim view of the liberal-arts departments in contemporary universities and of those students who sought, first, truth through literature and, second, a delayed entry into the job market.
Taking no offense26, in fact approving of Roman’s nasty antisocial vitriol, Corky explained: “The pleasant fellows at your security desk think I’m a visiting pathologist from Indianapolis, here to discuss with you certain deeply puzzling entomological details related to the victims of a serial28 killer29 operating throughout the Midwest.”
[179] “Huh? Why would they think that?”
“I have a source for excellent forged documents.”
Roman boggled. “You?”
“Frequently, it’s advisable for me to carry first-rate false identification.”
“Are you delusional30 or merely stupid?”
“As I’ve explained previously31, I’m not just an effete32 professor who gets a thrill from hanging out with anarchists33.”
“Yeah, right,” Roman said scornfully.
“I promote anarchy at every opportunity in my daily life, often at the risk of arrest and imprisonment35.”
“You’re a regular Che Guevara.”
“Many of my operations are as clever and shocking as they are unconventional. You didn’t think I wanted those ten foreskins just for some sick personal use, did you?”
“Yeah, that’s exactly what I thought. When we met at that boring university mixer, you seemed like the grand pooh-bah of the demented, a moral and mental mutant of classic proportions.”
“Coming from a Satanist,” Corky said with a smile, “that could be taken as a compliment.”
“It’s not meant as one,” Roman replied impatiently, angrily.
At his best, groomed36 and togged and breath-freshened for serious socializing, Castevet was an unattractive man. Anger made him uglier than usual.
Slat-thin, all bony hips37 and elbows and sharp shoulders, with an Adam’s apple more prominent than his nose and with a nose sharper than any Corky had ever seen on another member of the human species, with gaunt cheeks and with a fleshless chin that resembled the knob of a femur, Roman appeared to have a serious eating disorder38.
Every time that he met Castevet’s bird-keen, reptile-intense eyes, however, and whenever he caught the pathologist, for no apparent reason, sensuously39 licking his lips, which were the only ripe feature [180] of that scarecrow face and form, Corky suspected that a fearsome erotic need spun40 the wheels of the man’s metabolism41 almost fast enough to cause smoke to issue from various orifices. Had there been a betting pool regarding the average number of calories that Roman burned up every day in obsessive42 self-abuse alone, Corky would have wagered43 heavily on at least three thousand—and he would no doubt have ensured a comfortable retirement44 with his winnings.
“Well, whatever you think of me,” Corky said, “nevertheless, I would like to place an order for another ten foreskins.”
“Hey, get it through your head—I’m not doing business with you anymore. You’re reckless, coming here like this.”
Partly as a profitable sideline, but also partly from a sense of religious duty and as an expression of his abiding45 faith in the King of Hell, Roman Castevet provided—only from cadavers46—selected body parts, internal organs, blood, malignant47 tumors, occasionally even entire brains to other Satanists. His customers, other than Corky, had both a theological and a practical interest in arcane48 rituals designed to petition His Satanic Majesty49 for special favors or to summon actual demons50 out of the fiery51 pit. Frequently, after all, the most essential ingredients in a black-magic formula could not be purchased at the nearest Wal-Mart.
“You’re overreacting,” Corky said.
“I’m not overreacting. You’re imprudent, you’re foolhardy.”
“Foolhardy?” Corky smiled, nearly laughed. “All of a sudden you seem awfully52 prissy for a man who believes plunder53, torture, rape12, and murder will be rewarded in the afterlife.”
“Lower your voice,” Roman demanded in a fierce whisper, though Corky had continued to speak in a pleasant conversational54 tone. “If somebody finds you here with me, it could mean my job.”
“Not at all. I’m a visiting pathologist from Indianapolis, and we’re discussing your current manpower shortage and this deplorable backlog55 of unidentified cadavers.”
[181] “You’ll ruin me,” Roman moaned.
“All I’ve come here to do,” Corky lied, “is to order ten more foreskins. I don’t expect you to collect them while I wait. I just placed the order in person because I thought it would give you a chuckle56.”
Although Roman Castevet appeared too emaciated57, too juiceless to produce tears, his feverish58 black eyes grew watery59 with frustration60.
“Anyway,” Corky continued, “there’s a bigger threat to your job than being caught here with me—if someone discovers you people have mistakenly penned up a living man in this place with all these dead bodies.”
“Are you wired on something?”
“I already told you on the phone, a few minutes ago. One of these unfortunate souls is still alive.”
“What kind of mind game is this?” Roman demanded.
“It’s not a game. It’s true. I heard him murmuring ‘Help me, help me,’ so soft, barely loud enough to hear.”
“Heard who?”
“I tracked him down, peeled the shroud13 back from his face. He’s paralyzed. Facial muscles distorted by a stroke.”
Hunching61 closer, bristling62 like the collection of dry sticks in a bindle of kindling63, Roman insisted on eye-to-eye conversation, as if he believed the fierceness of his gaze would convey the message that his words had failed to deliver.
Corky blithely64 continued: “The poor guy was probably comatose65 when they brought him in here, then he regained66 consciousness. But he’s awfully weak.”
A crack of uncertainty67 breached68 Roman Castevet’s armor of disbelief. He broke eye contact and swept the bunks69 with his gaze. “Who?”
“Over there,” Corky said brightly, indicating the back of the vault, where the light from the overhead fixture70 barely reached, leaving the recumbent dead shrouded72 in gloom as well as in white cotton cloth. [182] “Seems to me I’m saving all your jobs by alerting you to this, so you ought to fill my order for free, out of gratitude73.”
Moving toward the back of the vault, Roman said, “Which one?”
Stepping close behind the pathologist, Corky replied, “On the left, the second from the bottom.”
As Roman bent71 to peel the shroud off the face of the corpse74, Corky raised his right arm, revealing the hand that until now had been concealed75 in the sleeve of his yellow slicker, and the ice pick in the hand. With judicious77 aim, great force, and utter confidence, he drove the weapon into the pathologist’s back.
Placed with precision, an ice pick can penetrate78 atriums and ventricles, causing such a convulsive shock in cardiac muscle that the heart stops in an instant and forever.
With a rustle79 of clothes and a quiet knockety-knock of folding limbs, Roman Castevet collapsed81 without a cry to the floor.
Corky didn’t need to check for a pulse. The gaping82 mouth, from which no breath escaped, and the eyes, as fixed83 as the glass orbs84 in a fine work of taxidermy, confirmed the perfection of his aim.
Preparation paid off. At home, using this same ice pick, Corky had practiced on a CPR dummy85 that he had stolen from the university medical school.
If he’d needed to stab twice, three, four times, or if Roman’s heart had continued to pump for even a short while, the assault could have proved messy. For that reason, he’d worn the stainproof slicker.
In the unlikely event that one of the vault’s properly chilled treasures sprung an unfortunate leak, the tile floor featured a large drain. Near the door, a collapsible vinyl hose on a reel was attached to a wall spigot.
Corky knew about this janitorial86 equipment from the articles that he had read two years ago, when the rat scandal had made the front page. Happily, he didn’t need the hose.
He lifted Roman into one of the empty bunks along the back wall of the vault, where the shadows served his scheme.
[183] From a deep inner pocket of his slicker, he withdrew the sheet that earlier he’d purchased in a department store at the mall. He draped the sheet over Roman, being careful to cover him entirely87, for he needed to conceal76 both the identity of the corpse and the fact that, unlike the others here, it was fully clothed.
Because death had been instantaneous and the wound had been minute, no blood seeped88 forth89 to stain the sheet and thus call attention to the freshness of this carcass.
In a day or two, or three, Roman would most likely be found by a morgue employee taking inventory90 or withdrawing a cadaver for an overdue91 autopsy92. Another front-page story for the medical examiner.
Corky regretted having to kill a man like Roman Castevet. As a good Satanist and a committed anarchist34, the pathologist had served well in the campaign to destabilize the social order and hasten its collapse80.
Soon, however, ghastly events at Channing Manheim’s estate would make big headlines worldwide. Authorities would commit extraordinary resources to discover the identity of the man who’d sent the taunting93 gifts in the black boxes.
Logic27 would send them to private mortuaries and public morgues, in search of the source of the ten foreskins. If Roman had come under suspicion during that investigation94, he would have tried to save his own hide by fingering Corky.
Anarchists labored95 under no obligation of loyalty96 to one another, which was as it should be among champions of disorder.
Indeed, Corky had other loose ends to tie up before the yuletide celebrations could begin.
Considering that his hands were sheathed97 in latex gloves, which had been hidden from his victim in the roomy sleeves of his slicker, he could have left the ice pick in the vault without worrying that he might provide police with incriminating fingerprints98. Instead, he returned it to its sheath and then to a pocket not only because it might serve him well again, but also because it now had sentimental99 value.
[184] Leaving the morgue, he said a friendly good-bye to the night security men. They had a thankless job, protecting the dead from the living. He even paused long enough to share with them an obscene joke about an attorney and a chicken.
He had no fear that eventually they would be able to provide the police with a useful description of his face. In his droopy hat and tent-like slicker, he was an eccentric and amusing figure about whom no one would remember more than his costume.
Later, in a fireplace at home, while he enjoyed a brandy, he would burn all the ID that had established him as a pathologist from Indianapolis. He possessed100 numerous additional sets of documentation for other identities if and when he needed them.
Now he returned to the night, the rain.
And so the time had come to deal with Rolf Reynerd, who by his actions had shown himself to be every bit as unfit for life as he had proved to be unfit for soap-opera stardom.
1 degenerate | |
v.退步,堕落;adj.退步的,堕落的;n.堕落者 | |
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2 elite | |
n.精英阶层;实力集团;adj.杰出的,卓越的 | |
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3 thigh | |
n.大腿;股骨 | |
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4 milky | |
adj.牛奶的,多奶的;乳白色的 | |
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5 lust | |
n.性(淫)欲;渴(欲)望;vi.对…有强烈的欲望 | |
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6 grotesque | |
adj.怪诞的,丑陋的;n.怪诞的图案,怪人(物) | |
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7 vagrants | |
流浪者( vagrant的名词复数 ); 无业游民; 乞丐; 无赖 | |
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8 runaways | |
(轻而易举的)胜利( runaway的名词复数 ) | |
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9 bunk | |
n.(车、船等倚壁而设的)铺位;废话 | |
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10 hideous | |
adj.丑陋的,可憎的,可怕的,恐怖的 | |
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11 parody | |
n.打油诗文,诙谐的改编诗文,拙劣的模仿;v.拙劣模仿,作模仿诗文 | |
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12 rape | |
n.抢夺,掠夺,强奸;vt.掠夺,抢夺,强奸 | |
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13 shroud | |
n.裹尸布,寿衣;罩,幕;vt.覆盖,隐藏 | |
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14 shrouds | |
n.裹尸布( shroud的名词复数 );寿衣;遮蔽物;覆盖物v.隐瞒( shroud的第三人称单数 );保密 | |
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15 modesty | |
n.谦逊,虚心,端庄,稳重,羞怯,朴素 | |
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16 chamber | |
n.房间,寝室;会议厅;议院;会所 | |
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17 anarchy | |
n.无政府状态;社会秩序混乱,无秩序 | |
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18 fully | |
adv.完全地,全部地,彻底地;充分地 | |
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19 owl | |
n.猫头鹰,枭 | |
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20 dissect | |
v.分割;解剖 | |
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21 cadaver | |
n.尸体 | |
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22 vault | |
n.拱形圆顶,地窖,地下室 | |
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23 flaring | |
a.火焰摇曳的,过份艳丽的 | |
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24 outfit | |
n.(为特殊用途的)全套装备,全套服装 | |
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25 credentials | |
n.证明,资格,证明书,证件 | |
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26 offense | |
n.犯规,违法行为;冒犯,得罪 | |
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27 logic | |
n.逻辑(学);逻辑性 | |
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28 serial | |
n.连本影片,连本电视节目;adj.连续的 | |
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29 killer | |
n.杀人者,杀人犯,杀手,屠杀者 | |
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30 delusional | |
妄想的 | |
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31 previously | |
adv.以前,先前(地) | |
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32 effete | |
adj.无生产力的,虚弱的 | |
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33 anarchists | |
无政府主义者( anarchist的名词复数 ) | |
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34 anarchist | |
n.无政府主义者 | |
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35 imprisonment | |
n.关押,监禁,坐牢 | |
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36 groomed | |
v.照料或梳洗(马等)( groom的过去式和过去分词 );使做好准备;训练;(给动物)擦洗 | |
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37 hips | |
abbr.high impact polystyrene 高冲击强度聚苯乙烯,耐冲性聚苯乙烯n.臀部( hip的名词复数 );[建筑学]屋脊;臀围(尺寸);臀部…的 | |
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38 disorder | |
n.紊乱,混乱;骚动,骚乱;疾病,失调 | |
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39 sensuously | |
adv.感觉上 | |
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40 spun | |
v.纺,杜撰,急转身 | |
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41 metabolism | |
n.新陈代谢 | |
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42 obsessive | |
adj. 着迷的, 强迫性的, 分神的 | |
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43 wagered | |
v.在(某物)上赌钱,打赌( wager的过去式和过去分词 );保证,担保 | |
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44 retirement | |
n.退休,退职 | |
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45 abiding | |
adj.永久的,持久的,不变的 | |
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46 cadavers | |
n.尸体( cadaver的名词复数 ) | |
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47 malignant | |
adj.恶性的,致命的;恶意的,恶毒的 | |
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48 arcane | |
adj.神秘的,秘密的 | |
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49 majesty | |
n.雄伟,壮丽,庄严,威严;最高权威,王权 | |
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50 demons | |
n.恶人( demon的名词复数 );恶魔;精力过人的人;邪念 | |
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51 fiery | |
adj.燃烧着的,火红的;暴躁的;激烈的 | |
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52 awfully | |
adv.可怕地,非常地,极端地 | |
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53 plunder | |
vt.劫掠财物,掠夺;n.劫掠物,赃物;劫掠 | |
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54 conversational | |
adj.对话的,会话的 | |
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55 backlog | |
n.积压未办之事 | |
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56 chuckle | |
vi./n.轻声笑,咯咯笑 | |
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57 emaciated | |
adj.衰弱的,消瘦的 | |
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58 feverish | |
adj.发烧的,狂热的,兴奋的 | |
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59 watery | |
adj.有水的,水汪汪的;湿的,湿润的 | |
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60 frustration | |
n.挫折,失败,失效,落空 | |
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61 hunching | |
隆起(hunch的现在分词形式) | |
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62 bristling | |
a.竖立的 | |
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63 kindling | |
n. 点火, 可燃物 动词kindle的现在分词形式 | |
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64 blithely | |
adv.欢乐地,快活地,无挂虑地 | |
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65 comatose | |
adj.昏睡的,昏迷不醒的 | |
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66 regained | |
复得( regain的过去式和过去分词 ); 赢回; 重回; 复至某地 | |
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67 uncertainty | |
n.易变,靠不住,不确知,不确定的事物 | |
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68 breached | |
攻破( breach的现在分词 ); 破坏,违反 | |
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69 bunks | |
n.(车、船等倚壁而设的)铺位( bunk的名词复数 );空话,废话v.(车、船等倚壁而设的)铺位( bunk的第三人称单数 );空话,废话 | |
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70 fixture | |
n.固定设备;预定日期;比赛时间;定期存款 | |
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71 bent | |
n.爱好,癖好;adj.弯的;决心的,一心的 | |
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72 shrouded | |
v.隐瞒( shroud的过去式和过去分词 );保密 | |
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73 gratitude | |
adj.感激,感谢 | |
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74 corpse | |
n.尸体,死尸 | |
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75 concealed | |
a.隐藏的,隐蔽的 | |
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76 conceal | |
v.隐藏,隐瞒,隐蔽 | |
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77 judicious | |
adj.明智的,明断的,能作出明智决定的 | |
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78 penetrate | |
v.透(渗)入;刺入,刺穿;洞察,了解 | |
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79 rustle | |
v.沙沙作响;偷盗(牛、马等);n.沙沙声声 | |
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80 collapse | |
vi.累倒;昏倒;倒塌;塌陷 | |
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81 collapsed | |
adj.倒塌的 | |
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82 gaping | |
adj.口的;张口的;敞口的;多洞穴的v.目瞪口呆地凝视( gape的现在分词 );张开,张大 | |
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83 fixed | |
adj.固定的,不变的,准备好的;(计算机)固定的 | |
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84 orbs | |
abbr.off-reservation boarding school 在校寄宿学校n.球,天体,圆形物( orb的名词复数 ) | |
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85 dummy | |
n.假的东西;(哄婴儿的)橡皮奶头 | |
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86 janitorial | |
adj.管理的(janitor的变形) | |
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87 entirely | |
ad.全部地,完整地;完全地,彻底地 | |
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88 seeped | |
v.(液体)渗( seep的过去式和过去分词 );渗透;渗出;漏出 | |
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89 forth | |
adv.向前;向外,往外 | |
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90 inventory | |
n.详细目录,存货清单 | |
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91 overdue | |
adj.过期的,到期未付的;早该有的,迟到的 | |
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92 autopsy | |
n.尸体解剖;尸检 | |
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93 taunting | |
嘲讽( taunt的现在分词 ); 嘲弄; 辱骂; 奚落 | |
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94 investigation | |
n.调查,调查研究 | |
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95 labored | |
adj.吃力的,谨慎的v.努力争取(for)( labor的过去式和过去分词 );苦干;详细分析;(指引擎)缓慢而困难地运转 | |
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96 loyalty | |
n.忠诚,忠心 | |
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97 sheathed | |
adj.雕塑像下半身包在鞘中的;覆盖的;铠装的;装鞘了的v.将(刀、剑等)插入鞘( sheathe的过去式和过去分词 );包,覆盖 | |
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98 fingerprints | |
n.指纹( fingerprint的名词复数 )v.指纹( fingerprint的第三人称单数 ) | |
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99 sentimental | |
adj.多愁善感的,感伤的 | |
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100 possessed | |
adj.疯狂的;拥有的,占有的 | |
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