"And they proceeded to trade Blows," cries Pitt.
"Hurrah1!" adds Pliny, "— they roll'd over and over, knock'd down the Tent, Mason got a Black Eye,—
"— and Dixon a bloody2 nose!"
"And the axmen came running, their Coins a-jingle, the pass-bank Bully3 hastily recording4 their wagers5 upon narrow scraps6 of Elephant,—
"Lomax,— " chides7 Euphie.
"Boys!" their Parents call. "Bed-Time."
"Us. To bed?" queries8 Pitt.
"Who should be listening to a Tale of Geminity," explains Pliny, "if not Twins?"
"Your Surveyors were Twins,— - were they not, Uncle?"
"Up to a point, my barking Fire-Dogs,"— the Revd having thought it over,— "as it seem'd to me, that Mason and Dixon had been converg?ing, to all but a Semblance,— till something...something occurr'd between them, in 'sixty-seven or 'sixty-eight, that divided their Des?tinies irremediably...."
"Separated them?" cry the Twins.
"Perhaps this would be a good moment for us to abandon the Narra?tive," says Pitt.
"Best to remember them just this way," agrees Pliny, "before an inch of that Line was ever drawn9.”
"Bed-time for Bookends," calls their Sister. The Express Packet Goose-down is whistling all non-Children ashore10, back to their storm-wreck'd Jetty, back to their gray unpromising Port-Town. There to bide11 far into the Night, exiles from the land their Children journey to, and through, so effortlessly.
"What about Indians?" asks Pitt, adhering to the Door-Jamb.
"You did mention Indians," mutters Pliny, around his Brother's Shoulder.
"Do the Surveyors get to fight anyone, at least?"
"Anyone kill'd?"
"A Frigate-Battle isn't enough for you Parlor-Apes?" the Revd smiting12 himself upon the Cheeks in dismay.
"Pontiac's Conspiracy13?" Pitt hopefully.
"Broken, alas14, whilst the Surveyors were in Delaware, running the infamous15 Tangent Line, with its Consort16 of correctional Segments."
"The Paxton Boys?"
"No likelier. Whilst they rode whooping17 and shooting upon Philadel?phia, the Surveyors were out in the Forks of Brandywine, well south of the Invasion Route, with a new observatory18 up, and the Stars nimbly hopping19 the Wires for them, as they gaz'd from someplace here upon Earth's Surface, yet in their Thoughts how unmappable—"
"May we have Indians tomorrow, Uncle?"
"Of course, Pitt."
"Pliny, Sir."
"The Younger." Off they go.
Tenebra?, now the youngest of the company, brings in fresh candles and fills the Tea-kettle and puts it upon the Hearth20. DePugh and 'Thelmer observe her covertly21 as she moves seemingly unaware22 of the effect her flex'd Nape, her naked Ear swiftly re-conceal'd by a shaken Tress, her Hands in the Firelight, are having upon them.
If Mason's elaborate Tales are a way for him to be true to the sorrows of his own history (the Revd Cherrycoke presently resumes), a way of keep?ing them safe, and never betraying them, in particular those belonging to
Rebekah,— then Dixon's Tales, the Emersoniana, the ghosts of Raby, seem to arise from simple practical matiness. Who, if not Mason, at any given moment, needs cheering? A cheerful Party-Chief means a cheer?ful Party.
"Directly before the Falmouth Packet sail'd," he begins, one night as they wait for a Star, "William Emerson presented me with a small mys?terious Package...."
' 'Twill not be an easy journey,— " quoth he, "there'll be days when the Compasses run quaquaversally wild, boxing themselves, and you, into Perplexity,— or happen the Stars be absented for fortnights at a time, with your own Pulse, as ever, a suite23 of changing Tempi24. Then will a reliable Ticker come in handy. This one, as you see, is too tarnish'd and wounded, for any British or French thief to consider worth an effort,— yet, Americans being less sophisticated, I'm oblig'd, Jeremiah, to enjoin25 ye,— be vigilant26, to the point of Folly27, if Folly it takes, in your care of this Watch, for within it lies a secret mechanism28, that will revolutionize the world of Horology."
"Eeh! Calculates when she's over-charging, and by how much, some?thing like thah'?"
"What it does do, Plutonian," Emerson told him, patiently, "is never stop."
"Why aye. And upon the hour it sings 'Yankee Doodle'...?"
"You'll see. 'Tis all in the design of the Remontoire."
"The first thing an Emerson pupil learns, is that there is no Perpetual-Motion," said Dixon, "which I am in fact all these years later still upset about, Sir,— perhaps in some strange way holding thee responsible."
"What're we to do...? 'Tis a Law of the Universe,— Prandium gratis29 non est. Nonetheless, if we accept the Theorem 'Hand and Key are to Main-spring, as Clock-train is to Remontoire,' then the Solution ever depends upon removing time-rates from questions of storing Power. With the proper deployment30 of Spring Constants and Magnetickal Gating, Power may be borrow'd, as needed, against repayment31 dates deferrable32 indefinitely."
"Sir,— why would thee entrust33 to me anything so valuable, in so unruly a Country? If it got into the wrong Pocket,— "If anyone tries to dis-assemble it to see how it works, upon the loos?ening of a certain unavoidable Screw, the entire Contraption will fly apart into a million pieces, and the Secret is preserv'd."
"But the Watch,— "
"Oah, another's easily built,— the Trick's uncommonly34 simple, once ye've the hang of it."
"Then why aren't these ev'rywhere? If we are arriv'd in the Age of Newton transcended35...? Perpetual-Motion commonplace... ? why's it yet a Secret?"
"Interest," chuckl'd Emerson, cryptickally. "In fact, Compound Inter36?est! Eeh, eeh, eeh!"
Now what seems odd to Dixon, is that ten years ago, in Mechanics, or, The Doctrine38 of Motion, Emerson express'd himself clearly and pessi-mistickally as to any Hopes for building a Watch that might ever keep time at Sea, whose "ten thousand irregular motions" would defeat the regularity39 of any Time-Piece, whether Spring- or Pendulum-Driven. Whyever then this dubious40 loan of a time-keeper even less hopeful? Their history in Durham together has been one of many such Messages, not necessarily clear or even verbal, which Dixon keeps failing to under?stand. He knows, to the Eye-Blink, how implausible Emerson is, as the source of the Watch. Meaning he is an intermediary. For whom? Who in the World possesses the advanc'd Arts, and enjoys the liberal Funding, requir'd for the building of such an Instrument? Eeh,— who indeed?
On the Falmouth Packet coming over, alone with the Enigma41 at last, he inspects it at length, but is unable to find any provision for winding42 it,— yet one must be hidden someplace— "Damme," he mutters into the Wind down from Black Head, " 'tis Popish Plots again, thick as Mush?rooms 'round the Grave of Merriment." Here they are, these Jezzies, being expell'd from one Kingdom after another,— whence any spare Time to devote to expensive Toys like this? He is a Newtonian. He wants all Loans of Energy paid back, and ev'ry Equation in Balance. Perpetual Motion is a direct Affront43. If this Watch be a message, why, it does not seem a kind one.
At last, red-eyed and by now as anxiously seeking, as seeking to avoid, any proof, he delivers the Watch to Captain Falconer, for safe?keeping inside the Ship's strong-box, till the end of the Voyage,— find- ing the Time-Piece, upon arrival in Philadelphia, ticking away briskly as ever,— and the counter-rhythms of the Remontoire falling precisely44 as the Steps of a Spanish dancer. He hopes it might be confiding45 to him, that its Effect of perfect Fidelity46, like that of a clever Woman, is an elab?orate and careful Illusion, and no more,— to be believ'd in at his Peril47.
"Like to listen?" Dixon offers, one day when he and Mason are out upon the Tangent Line.
"It's all right, I believe you." Mason's eyebrows48 bouncing up and down politely.
"Mason, it's true! I never have to wind it! Do you ever see me wind?ing it?"
Mason shrugs49. "You might be winding it while I'm asleep, or when screen'd, as we so often are one from the other, by Trees,— you might be engaging one of these Rusticks, keeping well out of my sight, to wind it regularly.— Do I have to go on?"
"Friend. Would I quiz with you 'pon something this serious? All our assumptions about the Conservation of Energy, the Principia, eeh...? our very Faith, as modern Men, suddenly in question like thah'...?"
"Had I tuppence for ev'ry approach made to Bradley upon the Topick of Perpetual-Motion, I should be elsewhere than this,— recumbent I imagine upon some sand beach of the Friendly Isles50, strumming my Eukalely, and attended by local Maidens51, whom I may even sometimes allow to strum it for me."
"Eeh, you are fair suspicious...? Listen to it, at least...?"
Watch to his ear, frown growing playful, Mason after a bit begins to
sing,
"Ay, Senorit-ta, it Can't, be sweet-ter, what Shall-we, do?
What a Fies-ta, not Much Sies-ta, do you Think-so, too?
Look ye, the, Moon-is ascend-ding, You no comprehend ing-Glés, it's just as well,—
For, I'm-in-your-Spell, what's That-can't-you-tell? Ay, Seen-Yo-ree-tah!
"Yes amusing little rhythm device,— not loud enough for ensemble52 work of course,—
"Forgive me, Friend, I've again presum'd our Minds running before the same Wind. My deep Error."
Mason in reply begins to wag his Head, as at some unfortunate event in the Street, whilst Dixon grows further annoy'd. "Do tha fancy I've an easy time of it? With the evidence before me, gathering53 each day I doahn't wind the blasted Watch,— even so, I can't believe in it...? I know thah' old man's idea of Merriment! I am thrown into a Vor-tex of Doubts."
The Watch ticks complexly on,— to Dixon, sworn not to let it out of his sight, a Burden whose weight increases with each nontorsionary day. At last, at some Station ankle-deep in a classically awful Lower Counties Bog54, he is able to face the possibility he's been curs'd,— Emerson, long adept55 at curses, having found himself, he once confess'd to Dixon, using the gift, as he grows older, in the service less of blunt and hot-headed revenge, than of elaborate and mirthful Sport,— directed at any he imag?ines have wrong'd him. Has Dixon finally made this List? Did he one day cross some Line, perhaps during a conversation he's forgotten but Emer?son has ever since been brooding upon, perhaps in detail? Eeh! ev'ry-one's nightmare in these times,— an unremember'd Slight, aveng'd with no warning. "What did I do?" confronting his teacher at last in a Dream, "to merit such harsh reprisal56? Had I been that wicked to thee, I'd surely remember...?"
"You violated your Contract," Emerson producing a sheaf of legal
Paper, each Page emboss'd with some intricate Seal, which if not read
properly will bring consequences Dixon cannot voice, but whose Terror
he knows "Where would you like to begin, Plutonian?"
'Tis now Dixon recalls the advice given Mason at the Cape57, by the Negrito Toko,— ever vigorously to engage an Enemy who appears in a dream. He knows that to be drawn into Emerson's propos'd Exercise, is to fight at a fatal disadvantage upon his Enemy's ground. His only course
is to destroy the Document at once,— by Fire, preferably,— tho' the
nearest Hearth is in the next room, too far to seize the papers and run with them— Emerson is reading his Thoughts. "Lo, a Fire-Sign who cannot make Fire." The contempt is overwhelming. Dixon feels Defeat rise up around him. It seems the Watch wishes to speak, but it only strug?gles, with the paralyz'd voice of the troubl'd Dreamer. Nonetheless, Dixon's Salvation58 lies in understanding the Message. Whereupon, he awakes, feeling cross.
Tho' sworn to guarantee the Watch's safety, he soon finds his only Thoughts are of ways to rid himself of it. In its day-lit Ticking, the Voice so clogg'd and cryptick in his Dream has begun to grow clearer. Drink?ing will not send it away. "When you accept me into your life," whisper?ing as it assumes a Shape that slowly grows indisputably Vegetable,— as it lies within its open'd traveling-case of counterfeit59 Shagreen, glimmer60?ing, yes a sinister61 Vegetable he cannot name, nor perhaps even great Linnaeus,— its Surface meanwhile passing thro' a number of pleasing colors, as its implied Commands are deliver'd percussively, fatally, - you will accept me.. .into your Stomach."
"Eeeeh...," a-tremble, and Phiz far from ruddy, he shows up at the Tent of the camp naturalist62, Prof. Voam,— who advises that, "as the Fate of Vegetables is to be eaten,— as success and Reputation in the Veg?etable Realm must hence be measured by how many are eaten,— it behooves63 each kind of Vegetable to look as appetizing as possible, doesn't it, or risk dying where it grew, not to mention having then to lie there, listening to the obloquy64 and complaint of its neighbors. But, dear me,— as to objects of Artifice,— Watches and so forth65..."
"Tell me, with all Honesty, Sir, regarding this Watch,— does it not seek to project an Appearance, not only appetizing, but also,— eeh!.. .Ah can't say it...?"
"Vegetables don't tick," the Professor gently reminds Dixon.
"Why aye, those that be only Vegetables don't. We speak now of a higher form of life,— a Vegetable with a Pulse-beat!"
"Beyond me. Try asking R.C., he enjoys puzzles."
Beyond R.C.,— a local land-surveyor employ'd upon the Tangent Enigma,— as well,— tho' he's not about to say so. From the Instant he sees the Watch, the Mens Rea is upon him. He covets66 it.— He dreams of it,— never calling it "the Watch" but "the Chronometer67,"— in his mind conflating it with the marvelous Timepiece of Mr. Harrison, thus flexibly has the Story reach'd America of the Rivalry68 between the Harrisons and Maskelyne, to secure the Longitude69,— and as much prize money as may be had from Longitude's Board.
"If a man had a Chronometer such as this," R.C. asks Dixon, "mightn't it be worth something to those Gentlemen?"
"A tight-fisted Bunch, according to Mason,— tha must open their Grip upon it with a Prying-Bar...?"
"Must be why they call it 'Prize' money," says R.C., "? - I'll bet you find it temptin', tho', don't ye?"
"I'm not sure whose this is," Dixon replies carefully. "I'm keeping it for someone."
"A Gratuitous70 Bailment,— of course." R.C. trying his best not to look mean. As a Transit-Fellow, Dixon recognizes R.C.'s Complaint but too well,— the many years pass'd among combatants unremitting, unable by one's Honor to take sides however much over the Brim Emotions might run, assaulted soon or late by all Parties, falling at last into a moral Stu-porousness as to the claims of Law,— in fact, perilously71 close oneself to being mistaken for a Lawyer, a bonny gone-on.
"Mmm-mm! Did ye see that, boys? Good enough to eat." Axmanly Wit at the Watch's expense, causes R.C. to glower72 and approach, often to fractions of an inch away.
"What're you in my Phiz for now, R.C.?"
"You don't want to be offending the wrong Folks," R.C. advises. No one knows what this means, but his point,— that he is too insane for ev'ryone else's good,— is made.
One midnight there is an uproar73. Dogs bark. Axmen request Silence. The Surveyors are out of their Tents, up the Track somewhere taking Zenith observations. There is a crowd in front of Dixon's Tent. R.C. is caught in the light of Nathe McClean's Tallow-Dip, just as the last bit of Gold Chain, suck'd between his Lips like a Chinese Noodle, disappears.
"R.C., may be you're gittin' too mean to think straight any more?"
"I thought I heard someone coming."
"That was us. Shouldn't you've set it down someplace, 'stead of swal-lerin' it?"
"There wasn't Time.”
"Now ye've more than ye know what to do with," quips Moses Barnes, to the Glee of his Companions.
"Don't you know what it is you swallow'd, R.C.?" Arch McClean slowly reciprocating74 his Head in wonder. "That's sixty Years of Longi?tude down there, all the Work 'at's come and gone, upon that one Prob?lem, since Sir Cloudsley Shovell lost his Fleet and his Life 'pon the cruel Rocks of Scilly."
"What were my Choices?" R.C. nearly breathless. The thing was either bewitch'd, by Country Women in the middle of the night,— Fire, monthly Blood, Names of Power,— or perfected, as might any Watch be, over years, small bit by bit, to its present mechanickal State, by Men, in work-Shops, and in the Daytime. That was the sexual Choice the Moment presented,— between those two sorts of Magic. "I had less than one of the Creature's Ticks to decide. So I took it, and I gobbl'd it right down." His pink fists swing truculently75, and he has begun to pout76. "Any of you have a Problem with this?"
"As the Arm of Discipline here, I certainly do," declares Mr. Barnes, the Overseer of the Axmen, "for in an expedition into the Country, as upon a ship at sea, nothing destroys morale77 like Theft. Which, legally speaking, is what this is."
"Yet anyone may put an ear to his Stomach. The Watch is sensibly there, nor's he making a Secret of it.... We might more accurately78 say, an Act of Sequestration, its owner being denied the use of—
"Aye, yet absent a Conversion79 to personal Use,—
"0 Philadelphia!" thunders Mr. Barnes, "have thy Barristers poison'd Discourse80 e'en unto the Rude who dwell in this Desert? What ever shall we do?" The Utterance81 being Mr. Barnes's cryptic37 way of requesting it, stone Silence falls over the Company. "Has anyone consider'd where we are?" All know that he means, "where just at the Tangent Point, strange lights appear at Night, figures not quite human emerge from and disap?pear into it, and in the Daytime, Farm animals who stray too close, van?ish and do not re-emerge,— and why should anyone find it strange, that one Man has swallow'd the Watch of another?" Some style this place "the Delaware Triangle," but Surveyors know it as "The Wedge."
To be born and rear'd in the Wedge is to occupy a singular location in an emerging moral Geometry. Indeed, the oddness of Demarcation here, the inscriptions82 made upon the body of the Earth, primitive83 as Designs prick'd by an Iroquois, with a Thorn and a supply of Soot84, upon his human body,— a compulsion, withal, supported by the most advanc'd scientifick instruments of their Day,— present to Lawyers enough Liti?gation upon matters of Property within the Wedge, to becoach-and-six a small Pack of them, one generation upon another, yea unto the year 1900, and beyond.
By early Youth, R.C. had become the kind of mean, ornery cuss his neighbors associated with years of Maturity85. "Here comes old R.C., and don't he look sour'd today." 'Twas his Profession did it to him. As a young Surveyor, from the rude shocks attending his first boundary-dispute, he understood that he must exercise his Art among the most litigious peo?ple on Earth,— Pennsylvanians of all faiths, but most intensely the Pres?byterians, hauling each other before Justices of the Peace, Sheriffs, Church Courts, Village Quidnuncs, anyone who'd listen, even pretend to, at an unbelievable clip, seeking recompense for ill treatment grand and petty. If he wish'd to pursue this line of Work, he would have to rec?ognize the country-wide jostle of Polygons as a form of madness, by which, if he kept to a Fiduciary86 Edge of Right Procedure, he might profit, whilst retaining his Sanity87. He infuriated the more bookish sur?veyors with his Approach, which includ'd avoiding Paper-work, walking the Terrain88, and making noninstrumental guesses. "Looks about eighty-eight-thirty to me. Here,— " Eyes shut, Arms straight out to his sides, then swept together till the fingertips touch'd, Eyes open,— "That's it."
"How so?"
"By Eye," he twinkl'd sourly. "Most of these out here 'round the Wedge, ye can do by Eye," pronouncing it "Bah-ahy." By the time he turn'd his hand to the Problem of the Tangent Line, it seem'd but an accustom'd Madness, in a different form,— the geometrick Whimsical?ity of Kings, this time, and Kings-to-be.
In the months, and then the years, after he swallows the Watch, as the days of ceaseless pulsation89 pass one by one, R.C. learns that a small volume within him is, and shall be, immortal90. His wife moves to another Bed, and soon into another room altogether, after persuading him first to build it onto the House. "Snoring's one thing, R.C., I can always do something about that," brandishing91 her Elbow, "— but that Ticking...”
"Kept me awake, too, at first, Phoebe,— but now, it rocks me to sleep."
"Best Wishes, R.C."
"Oh, suit yourself." R.C. can act as sentimental92 as the next young Husband, but his public R?les require him to be distant and disagree?able. Besides, since he swallow'd the Watch, she's been noticeably less merry with him, as if cautious in its presence.
"Do you imagine it cares what we're doing out here, in the world out?side? Say, Phoeb, do be a Peach and come—
"But R.C., it might be— "
"What?" his voice beginning to pitch higher. "Listening?"
"Taking it all down, somehow."
"You're the girl I married, damme 'f you're not." He knows she never quite sees what this means, and being none too sure himself, he never offers to explain it.
' Tis a national Treasure," declares Mr. Shippen,— "and whoever may first remove it from its present location, shall enter most briskly upon the Stage of World Business, there, will-he nill-he, to play his part.— All at the price of your own Life, R.C., of course, Chirurgickal Extraction and all, but,— that's Business, as they say in Philadelphia."
"I'll chuck it up, why don't I do that?" putting his finger down his Throat.
"Oh, may we watch?" cry the Children.
"Never say 'Watch' to your Father," advises Mrs. R.C.
"Ahhrrhh!" the Finger comes out bleeding. "Something bit me!"
"Likely trying to protect its Territory," his eldest93 Son assures him.
"How could it bite me? 'tis in my Stomach. 'Tis a Watch."
"Alter its shape, maybe? Who knows what's happening to it in there?"
"Where all is a-drip, disgusting and mushy with chew'd-up food,—
"And acid and bile and it smells ever of Vomit,—
"Eeeooo!"
"Enjoy yourselves, children, even at the expense of your poor suf-f'ring old Father if you're that desperate for merriment, no matter, go, mock, too soon will equal Inconvenience befall ye, ev'ry one, 'tis Life."
"We'll not go swallowing Watches, thankee."
"Not if you want to sneak94 up on an Indian someday, you won't.”
"Hadn't plann'd on it, Pa."
"Figures he'll cash in on Longitude, instead he eats the Chronometer, some zany Dreamer I married." Of course Dixon has to tell Emerson. For weeks after the Express has curvetted away, he mopes about, as gloomy as anyone's ever seen him. "I was suppos'd to look after it...?"
"You wish'd release from your Promise," Mason reminds him. "Think of R.C. as Force Majeure."
The Letter, in reply, proves to be from Mrs. Emerson. "When he receiv'd your News, Mr. Emerson was quite transform'd, and whooping with high amusement, attempted whilst in his Workroom to dance a sort of Jig95, by error stepping upon a wheel'd Apparatus96 that was there, the result being that he has taken to his Bed, where, inches from my Quill97, he nevertheless wishes me to say, 'Felicitations, Fool, for it hath work'd to Perfection.'
"I trust that in a subsequent Letter, my Husband will explain what this means."
There is a Post-Script in Emerson's self-school'd hand, exclamatory, ending upon a long Quill-crunching Stop. "Time is the Space that may not be seen.—
(Ton which the Revd cannot refrain from commenting, "He means, that out of Mercy, we are blind as to Time,— for we could not bear to contemplate98 what lies at its heart.")
收听单词发音 |
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hurrah
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| int.好哇，万岁，乌拉 | |
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bloody
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bully
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recording
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wagers
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| n.赌注，用钱打赌( wager的名词复数 )v.在（某物）上赌钱，打赌( wager的第三人称单数 )；保证，担保 | |
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scraps
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| 油渣 | |
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chides
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| v.责骂，责备( chide的第三人称单数 ) | |
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queries
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| n.问题( query的名词复数 )；疑问；询问；问号v.质疑，对…表示疑问( query的第三人称单数 )；询问 | |
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drawn
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| v.拖，拉，拔出；adj.憔悴的，紧张的 | |
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ashore
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bide
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smiting
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| v.猛打，重击，打击( smite的现在分词 ) | |
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conspiracy
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alas
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| int.唉(表示悲伤、忧愁、恐惧等) | |
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infamous
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consort
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whooping
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observatory
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| n.天文台，气象台，瞭望台，观测台 | |
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hopping
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hearth
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covertly
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unaware
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suite
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tempi
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| 拍子，发展速度； 乐曲的速度或拍子( tempo的名词复数 )； （运动或活动的）速度，进度 | |
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enjoin
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vigilant
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folly
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mechanism
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| n.机械装置；机构，结构 | |
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gratis
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| adj.免费的 | |
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deployment
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| n. 部署,展开 | |
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repayment
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| n.偿还，偿还款；报酬 | |
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deferrable
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| adj.可延期的，可暂缓的，可缓征的 | |
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entrust
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| v.信赖，信托，交托 | |
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uncommonly
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| adv. 稀罕(极，非常) | |
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transcended
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| 超出或超越（经验、信念、描写能力等）的范围( transcend的过去式和过去分词 )； 优于或胜过… | |
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inter
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| v.埋葬 | |
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cryptic
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| adj.秘密的，神秘的，含义模糊的 | |
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doctrine
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| n.教义；主义；学说 | |
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regularity
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| n.规律性，规则性；匀称，整齐 | |
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dubious
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| adj.怀疑的，无把握的；有问题的，靠不住的 | |
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enigma
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| n.谜，谜一样的人或事 | |
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winding
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| n.绕，缠，绕组，线圈 | |
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affront
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| n./v.侮辱，触怒 | |
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precisely
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| adv.恰好，正好，精确地，细致地 | |
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confiding
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| adj.相信人的，易于相信的v.吐露（秘密，心事等）( confide的现在分词 )；（向某人）吐露（隐私、秘密等） | |
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fidelity
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| n.忠诚，忠实；精确 | |
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peril
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| n.(严重的)危险；危险的事物 | |
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eyebrows
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| 眉毛( eyebrow的名词复数 ) | |
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shrugs
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| n.耸肩（以表示冷淡，怀疑等）( shrug的名词复数 ) | |
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isles
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| 岛( isle的名词复数 ) | |
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maidens
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| 处女( maiden的名词复数 )； 少女； 未婚女子； （板球运动）未得分的一轮投球 | |
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ensemble
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| n.合奏(唱)组；全套服装；整体，总效果 | |
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gathering
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| n.集会，聚会，聚集 | |
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bog
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| n.沼泽；室...陷入泥淖 | |
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adept
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| adj.老练的，精通的 | |
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reprisal
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| n.报复，报仇，报复性劫掠 | |
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cape
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| n.海角，岬；披肩，短披风 | |
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salvation
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| n.（尤指基督）救世，超度，拯救，解困 | |
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counterfeit
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| vt.伪造，仿造；adj.伪造的，假冒的 | |
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glimmer
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| v.发出闪烁的微光；n.微光，微弱的闪光 | |
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sinister
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| adj.不吉利的，凶恶的，左边的 | |
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naturalist
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| n.博物学家(尤指直接观察动植物者) | |
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behooves
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| n.利益，好处( behoof的名词复数 )v.适宜( behoove的第三人称单数 ) | |
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obloquy
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| n.斥责，大骂 | |
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forth
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| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
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covets
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| v.贪求，觊觎( covet的第三人称单数 ) | |
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chronometer
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| n.精密的计时器 | |
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rivalry
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| n.竞争，竞赛，对抗 | |
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longitude
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| n.经线，经度 | |
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gratuitous
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| adj.无偿的，免费的；无缘无故的，不必要的 | |
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perilously
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| adv.充满危险地，危机四伏地 | |
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glower
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| v.怒目而视 | |
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uproar
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| n.骚动，喧嚣，鼎沸 | |
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reciprocating
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| adj.往复的；来回的；交替的；摆动的v.报答，酬答( reciprocate的现在分词 )；（机器的部件）直线往复运动 | |
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truculently
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pout
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| v.撅嘴；绷脸；n.撅嘴；生气，不高兴 | |
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morale
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| n.道德准则，士气，斗志 | |
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accurately
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| adv.准确地，精确地 | |
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conversion
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| n.转化，转换，转变 | |
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discourse
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| n.论文，演说；谈话；话语；vi.讲述，著述 | |
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utterance
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| n.用言语表达，话语，言语 | |
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82
inscriptions
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| （作者）题词( inscription的名词复数 )； 献词； 碑文； 证劵持有人的登记 | |
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primitive
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| adj.原始的；简单的；n.原(始)人，原始事物 | |
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84
soot
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| n.煤烟，烟尘；vt.熏以煤烟 | |
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maturity
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| n.成熟；完成；(支票、债券等)到期 | |
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fiduciary
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| adj.受托的，信托的 | |
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sanity
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| n.心智健全，神智正常，判断正确 | |
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terrain
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| n.地面，地形，地图 | |
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pulsation
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| n.脉搏，悸动，脉动；搏动性 | |
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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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brandishing
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| v.挥舞( brandish的现在分词 )；炫耀 | |
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sentimental
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| adj.多愁善感的，感伤的 | |
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eldest
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| adj.最年长的，最年老的 | |
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sneak
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| vt.潜行(隐藏,填石缝)；偷偷摸摸做；n.潜行；adj.暗中进行 | |
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jig
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| n.快步舞（曲）；v.上下晃动；用夹具辅助加工；蹦蹦跳跳 | |
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apparatus
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| n.装置，器械；器具，设备 | |
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quill
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| n.羽毛管；v.给（织物或衣服）作皱褶 | |
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contemplate
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| vt.盘算，计议；周密考虑；注视，凝视 | |
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