With this Ruth, Rabbit enters the street. On his right, away from the mountain, the heart of the city shines: a shuffle1 of lights, a neon outline of a boot, of a peanut, of a top hat, of an enormous sunflower erected2, the stem of neon six stories high, along the edge of one building to symbolize4 Sunflower Beer. The yellow flower center is a second moon. One block down, a monotone bell tolls5 hurriedly, and the red?tipped railroad?crossing gates descend6 through the soft mass of neon, and the traffic slows, halts.
Ruth turns left, toward the shadow of Mt. Judge, and Rabbit follows; they walk uphill on the rasping pavement. The slope of cement is a buried assertion, an unexpected echo, of the terrain7 that had been here before the city. For Rabbit the pavement is a shadow of the Daiquiri's luminous8 transparence; he is lighthearted, and skips once, to get in step with this girl he adores. Her eyes are turned up, toward where the Pinnacle9 Hotel adds its coarse constellation10 to the stars above Mt. Judge. They walk together in silence while behind them a freight train chuffs and screaks through the crossing.
He recognizes his problem; she dislikes him now, like that whore in Texas. "Hey," he says. "Have you ever been up to the top there?"
"Sure. In a car.",
"When I was a kid," he says, "we used to walk up from the other side. There's a sort of gloomy forest, and I remember once I came across an old house, just a hole in the ground with some stones, where I guess a pioneer had had a farm."
"The only time I ever got up there was in a car with some eager beaver12."
"Well, congratulations," he says, annoyed by the self?pity hiding in her toughness.
She bites at being uncovered. "What do you think I care about your pioneer?" she asks.
"I don't know. Why shouldn't you? You're an American."
"How? 1 could just as easy be a Mexican."
"You never could be, you're not little enough."
"You know, you're a pig really."
"Oh now baby," he says, and puts his arm around the substance of her waist, "I think I'm sort of neat."
"Don't tell me."
She turns left, off Weiser, out of his arm. This street is Summer. Faces of brick run together to make a single block?long face. The house numbers are set in fanlights of stained glass above the doors. The apple?and?orange?colored light of a small grocery store shows the silhouettes13 of some kids hanging around the corner. The supermarkets are driving these little stores out of business, make them stay open all night.
He puts his arm around her and begs, "Come on now, be a pleasant cunt." He wants to prove to her that her talking tough won't keep him off. She wants him to be content with just her heavy body, but he wants whole women, light as feathers. To his surprise her arm mirrors his, comes around his waist. Thus locked, they find it awkward to walk, and part at the traffic light.
"Didn't you kind of like me in the restaurant?" he asks. "The way I tried to make old Tothero feel good? Telling him how great he was?"
"All I heard was you telling how great you were."
"I was great. It's the fact. I mean, I'm not much good for anything now, but I really was good at that."
"You know what I was good at?"
"What?"
"Cooking."
"That's more than my wife is. Poor kid."
"Remember how in Sunday school they'd tell you everybody God made was good at something? Well, that was my thing, cooking. I thought, Jesus, now I'll really be a great cook."
"Well aren't you?"
"I don't know. All I do is eat out."
"Well, stop it."
"It's how you meet guys," she says, and this really stops him. It frightens him to think of her this way. It makes her seem, in terms of love, so vast.
"Here I am," she says. Her building is brick like all the others on?the west side of the street. Across the way a big limestone14 church hangs like a gray curtain behind the streetlamp. They go in her doorway15, passing beneath stained glass. The vestibule has a row of brass16 mailboxes and a varnished17 umbrella rack and a rubber mat on the marble floor and two doors, one to the right with frosted glass and another in front of them of wire?reinforced glass through which he sees rubber?treaded stairs. While Ruth fits a key in this door he reads the gold lettering on the other: F. X. PELLIGRINI, M.D. "Old fox," Ruth says, and leads Rabbit up the stairs.
She lives one flight up. Her door is the one at the far end of a linoleum18 hall, nearest the street. He stands behind her as she scratches her key at the lock. Abruptly19, in the yellow light of the streetlamp which comes through the four flawed panes20 of the window by his side, tall panes so thin?seeming the touch of one finger might crack them, he begins to tremble, first his legs, and then the skin of his sides. The key fits and her door opens.
Once inside, as she reaches for the light switch, he knocks her arm down, pulls her around, and kisses her. It's insanity21, he wants to crush her, a little gauge22 inside his ribs23 doubles and redoubles his need for pressure, just pure pressure, there is no love in it, love that glances and glides24 along the skin, he is unconscious of their skins, it is her heart he wants to grind into his own, to comfort her completely. By nature in such an embrace she fights back. The small moist cushion of slack willingness with which her lips had greeted his dries up and turns hard, and when she can get her head back and her hand free she fits her palm against his jaw25 and pushes as if she wanted to throw his skull26 back into the hall. Her fingers curl and a long nail scrapes the tender skin below one eye. He lets her go. The nearly scratched eye squints28 and a tendon in his neck aches.
"Get out," she says, her chunky mussed face ugly in the light from the hall.
He kicks the door shut with a backward flip29 of his leg. "Don't," he says. "I had to hug you." He sees in the dark she is frightened; her big black shape has a pocket in it which his instinct feels like a tongue probing a pulled tooth. The air tells him he must be motionless; for no reason he wants to laugh. Her fear and his inner knowledge are so incongruous: he knows there is no harm in him.
"Hug," she says. "Kill felt more like it."
"I've been loving you so much all night," he says. "I had to get it out of my system."
"I know all about your systems. One squirt and done."
"It won't be," he promises.
"It better be. I want you out of here."
"No you don't."
"You all think you're such lovers."
"I am," he assures her. "I am a lover." And on a wave of alcohol and stirred semen he steps forward, in a kind of swoon. Though she backs away, it is not so quickly that he cannot feel her socket30 of fear healing. The room they are in, he sees by streetlight, is small, and two armchairs and a sofa?bed and a table furnish it. She walks to the next room, a little larger, holding a double bed. The shade is half drawn31, and low light gives each nubbin of the bedspread a shadow.
"All right," she says. "You can get into that."
"Where are you going?" Her hand is on a doorknob.
"In here."
"You're going to undress in there?"
"Yeah."
"Don't. Let me undress you. Please." In his concern he has come to stand beside her, and touches her arm now.
She moves her arm from under his touch. "You're pretty bossy32." "Please. Please."
Her voice grates with exasperation33: "I have to go to the john." "But come out dressed."
"I have to do something else, too."
"Don't do it. I know what it is. I hate them."
"You don't even feel it."
"But I know it's there. Like a rubber kidney or something."
Ruth laughs. "Well aren't you choice? Do you have the answer then?"
"No. I hate them even worse."
"Look. I don't know what you think your fifteen dollars entitles you to, but I got to protect myself."
"If you're going to put a lot of gadgets34 in this, give me the fifteen back."
She tries to twist away, but now he holds the arm he touched. She says, "Say, do you think we're married or something the way you boss me around?"
The transparent35 wave moves over him again and he calls to her in a voice that is almost inaudible, "Yes; let's be." So quickly her arms don't move from hanging at her sides, he kneels at her feet and kisses the place on her fingers where a ring would have been. Now that he is down there, he begins to undo36 the straps37 of her shoes. "Why do you women wear heels?" he asks, and yanks her one foot up, so she has to grab the hair on his head for support. "Don't they hurt you?" He heaves the shoe, sticky web, through the doorway into the next room, and does the same to the other. Her feet being flat on the floor gives her legs firmness all the way up. He puts his hands around her ankles and pumps them up and down briskly, between the boxy ankle bones and the circular solid fat of her calves39. He should be an athletic40 trainer.
"Come on," Ruth says, in a voice slightly tense with the fear of falling, his weight pinning her legs. "Get into bed."
He senses the trap. "No," he says, and stands up. "You'll put on a flying saucer."
"No, I won't. Listen, you won't know if I do or don't."
"Sure I will. I'm very sensitive."
"Oh Lord. Well anyway I got to take a leak."
"Go ahead, I don't care," he says, and won't let her close the bathroom door. She sits, like women do, primly41, her back straight and her chin tucked in. Her knees linked by stretched underpants, Ruth waits above a whispering gush42. At home he and Janice had been trying to toilet?train Nelson, so leaning in the doorway tall as a parent he feels a ridiculous impulse to praise her. She is so tidy, reaching under her dress with a piece of lemon?colored paper; she tugs43 herself together and for a sweet split second the whole inti-mate vulnerable patchwork44 of stocking tops and straps and silk and fur and soft flesh is exposed.
"Good girl," he says, and leads her into the bedroom. Behind them, the plumbing45 vibrates and murmurs46. She moves with shy stiffness, puzzled by his will. Trembling again, shy himself, he brings her to a stop by the foot of the bed and searches for the catch of her dress. He finds buttons on the back and can't undo them easily; his hands come at them reversed.
"Let me do it."
"Don't be in such a hurry; I'll do it. You're supposed to enjoy this. This is our wedding night."
"Say, I think you're sick."
He turns her roughly and falls again into a deep wish to give comfort. He touches her caked cheeks; she seems small as he looks down into the frowning planes of her set, shadowed face. He moves his lips into one eye socket, gently, trying to say this night has no urgency in it, trying to listen through his lips to the timid pulse beating in the bulge47 of her lid. With a careful impartiality48 he fears she will find comic, he kisses also her other eye; then, excited by the thought of his own tenderness, his urgency spills; his mouth races across her face, nibbling49, licking, so that she does laugh, tickled50, and pushes away. He locks her against him, crouches51, and presses his parted teeth into the fat hot hollow at the side of her throat. Ruth tenses at his threat to bite, and her hands shove at his shoulders, but he clings there, his teeth bared in a silent excla-mation, crying out against her smothering52 throat that it is not her body he wants, not the flesh and bones, but her, her.
Though there are no words she hears this, and says, "Don't try to prove you're a lover on me. Just come and go."
"You're so smart," he says, and starts to hit her, checks his arm, and offers instead, "Hit me. Come on. You want to, don't you? Really pound me."
"My Lord," she says, "this'll take all night." He plucks her limp arm from her side and swings it up toward him, but she manages her hand so that five bent53 fingers bump against his cheek pain-lessly. "That's what poor Maggie has to do for your old bastard54 friend."
He begs, "Don't talk about them."
"Damn men," she continues, "either want to hurt somebody or be hurt."
"I don't, honest. Either one."
"Well then undress me and stop farting around."
He sighs through his nose. "You have a sweet tongue," he says.
"I'm sorry if I shock you." Yet in her voice is a small metallic55 withdrawal56, as if she really is.
"You don't," he says and, business?like, stoops and takes the hem11 of her dress in his hands. His eyes are enough accustomed to the dark now to see the silky cloth as green. He peels it up her body, and she lifts her arms, and her head gets caught for a moment in the neck?hole. She shakes her head crossly, like a dog with a scrap27, and the dress comes free, skims off her arms into his hands floppy57 and faintly warm. He sails it into a chair hulking in a corner. "God," he says, "you're pretty." She is a ghost in her silver slip. Dragging the dress over her head has loosened her hair. Her solemn face tilts58 as she quickly lifts out the pins. Her hair falls out of heavy loops. Women look like brides in their slips.
"Yeah," she says. "Pretty plump."
"No," he says, "you are," and in the space of a breath goes to her and picks her up, great glistening59 sugar in her silty60?grained slip, and carries her to the bed, and lays her on it. "So pretty."
"You lifted me, wow. That'll put you out of action."
Harsh direct light falls on her face: the caked makeup61, the creases62 on her neck. He asks, "Shall I pull the shade?"
"Please. It's a depressing view."
He goes to the window and bends to see what she means. There is only the church across the way, gray, grave, and mute. Lights behind its rose window are left burning, and this circle of red and purple and gold seems in the city night a hole punched in reality to show the abstract brilliance64 burning underneath65. He lowers the shade on it guiltily. He turns, and Ruth's eyes watch him out of shadows that also seem gaps in a surface. The curve of her hip66 supports a crescent of silver; his sense of her weight seems to make an aroma67.
"What's next?" He takes off his coat and throws it; he loves this throwing things, the way the flying cloth puts him at the center of a gathering68 nakedness. "Stockings?"
"They're tricky," she says. "I don't want a run."
"You do it then."
In a sitting position, with a soft?pawed irritable69 deftness70, she extricates71 herself from a web of elastic72 and silk and cotton. When she has peeled off the stockings and tucked them, tidily rolled, into the crevice73 by the footboard of the bed, she lies flat and arches her back to push off the garter belt and pants. As swiftly, he bends his face into a small forest smelling of spice, where he is out of all dimension, and where a tender entire woman seems an inch away, around a kind of corner. When he straightens up on his knees, kneeling as he is by the bed, Ruth under his eyes is an incredible continent, the pushed?up slip a north of snow.
"So much," he says.
"Too much."
"No, listen. You're good." Cupping a hand behind her hot sheltered neck, he pulls her up, and slides her slip over her head. It comes off with liquid ease. Clothes just fall from a woman who wants to be stripped. The cool hollow his hand finds in the small of her back mixes in his mind with the shallow shadows of the stretch of skin that slopes from the bones of her shoulders. He kisses this expanse. Where her skin is whiter it is cooler. The hardness of his chin hits the hardness of her bra. He whispers "Hey let me" when Ruth's one arm crooks74 back to unfasten it. He gets behind her. She sits upright with her fat legs jackknifed sideways and her back symmetrical as a great vase. The tiny dingy75 catches are hard to undo; she draws her shoulder blades together. With a pang76 the tough strap38 parts. Her back broadens and turns convex as she shrugs77 the straps down off her shoulders. As one arm tosses her brassiére over the edge of the bed the other, on his side, presses against her breast, so he won't see. But he does see: a quick glimmer78 of tipped weight. He moves away and sits on the corner of the bed and drinks in the pure sight of her. She keeps her arm tight against the one breast and brings up her hand to cover the other; a ring glints. Her modesty79 praises him by showing she is feeling something. The straight arm props80 her weight. Her belly81 is a pond of shadow deepening to a black eclipsed by the inner swell82 of her thighs83. Light seizes her right side as her body turns in its stillness, rigidity85 her one defense86 against the hunger of his eyes. She holds the pose until his eyes smart with echoes of white. When her voice breaks from her stilled form, he is startled: "What about you?"
He is still dressed, even to his necktie. While he is draping his trousers over a chair, arranging them to keep the crease63, she slips beneath the covers. He stands over her in his underclothes and asks, "Now you really don't have anything on?"
"You wouldn't let me."
He remembers the glint. "Give me your ring."
She brings her right hand out from under the covers and he carefully works a thick brass ring, like a class ring, past her bunching knuckle87. In letting her hand drop she grazes the distorted front of his jockey shorts.
He looks down at her, thinking. The covers come up to her throat and the pale arm lying on top of the bedspread has a slight serpent's twist. "There's nothing else?"
"I'm all skin," she says. "Come on. Get in."
"You want me?"
"Don't flatter yourself. I want it over with."
"You have all that crust on your face."
"God, you're insulting!"
"I just love you too much. Where's a washrag?"
"I don't want my Goddamned face washed!"
He goes into the bathroom and turns on the light and finds a facecloth and holds it under the hot faucet88. He wrings89 it out and turns off the light. As he comes back across the room Ruth laughs from the bed. He asks, "What's the joke?"
"In those damn underclothes you do look kind of like a rabbit. I thought only kids wore those elastic kind of pants."
He looks down at his T?shirt and snug90 underpants, pleased and further stirred. His name in her mouth feels like a physical touch. She sees him as special. When he puts the rough cloth to her face, it goes tense and writhes91 with a resistance like Nelson's, and he counters it with a father's practiced method. He sweeps her forehead, pinches her nostrils92, abrades93 her cheeks and, finally, while her whole body is squirming in protest, scrubs her lips, her words shattered and smothered94. When at last he lets her hands win, and lifts the washrag, she stares at him, says nothing, and closes her eyes.
When he knelt by the bed to grip her face he pressed the sensitive core of his love against the edge of the mattress95 and now without his will a little spills, like cream forced over the neck of the bottle by the milk's freezing. He backs away from contact; the shy series of hops96, puzzled, throbs97 to a slow halt. He stands and presses the cloth against his own face, like a man sobbing98. He goes to the foot of the bed, throws the rag toward the bathroom, peels out of his underclothes, bobs, and hurries to hide in the bed, in the long dark space between the sheets.
He makes love to her as he would to his wife. After their marriage, and her nerves lost that fineness, Janice needed coaxing99; he would begin by rubbing her back. Ruth submits warily100 when he tells her to lie on her stomach. To lend his hands strength he sits up on her cushiony buttocks and leans his weight down through stiff arms into his thumbs and palms as they work the broad muscles and insistent101 bones. She sighs and shifts her head on the pillow. "You should be in the Turkish?bath business," she says. He goes for her neck, and advances his fingers around to her throat, where the columns of blood give like reeds, and massages102 her shoulders with the balls of his thumbs, and his fingertips just find the glazed103 upper edges of her pillowing breasts. He returns to her back, until his wrists ache, and flops104 from astride his mermaid105 truly weary, as if under a sea?spell to sleep. He pulls the covers up over them, to the middle of their faces.
Janice was shy of his eyes so Ruth heats in his darkness. His lids flutter shut though she arches anxiously against him. Her hand seeks him, and angles him earnestly for a touch his sealed lids feel as red. He sees blue when with one deliberate hand she pries106 open his jaw and bows his head to her burdened chest. Lovely wobbly bubbles, heavy: perfume between. Taste, salt and sour, swirls107 back with his own saliva108. She rolls away, onto her back, the precious red touch breaking, twists, giving him cool new skin. Rough with herself, she forces the dry other breast into his face, coated with a pollen109 that dissolves. He opens his eyes, seeking her, and sees her face a soft mask gazing downward calmly, caring for him, and closes his eyes on the food of her again; his hand abandoned on the breadth of her body finds at arm's length a split pod, an open fold, shapeless and simple. She rolls further, turning her back, cradling her bottom in his stomach and thighs. They enter a lazy space. He wants the time to stretch long, to great length and thinness. Between her legs she strokes him with her fingertips. She brings back her foot and he holds her heel. As they deepen together he feels impatience110 that through all their twists they remain separate flesh; he cannot dare enough, now that she is so much his friend in this search; everywhere they meet a wall. The body lacks voice to sing its own song. She floats through his blood as under his eyelids111 a salt smell, damp pressure, the sense of her smallness as her body hurries everywhere into his hands, her breathing, bedsprings' creak, accidental slaps, and the ache at the parched112 root of his tongue each register their colors.
"Now?" Ruth asks, her voice croaky. He kneels in a kind of sickness between her spread legs. With her help their blind loins fit. Something sad in the capture. The capture grows. He braces113 himself on his arms above her, afraid, for it is here he most often failed Janice, by coming too soon. Yet, what with the alcohol drifting in his system, or his coming a little before, his love is slow to burst in her warmth. He hides his face beside her throat, in the mint of her hair. With thin, thin arms she hugs him and presses him down and rises above him. From her high smooth shoulders down she is one long underbelly erect3 in light above him; he says in praise softly, "Hey."
She answers, "Hey."
"You're pretty."
"Come on. Work."
Galled114, he shoves up through her and in addition sets his hand under her jaw and shoves her face so his fingers slip into her mouth and her slippery throat strains. As if unstrung by this anger, she tumbles and carries him over and he lies on top of her again, the skin of their chests sticking together; she reaches her hand down and touches their mixed fur and her breathing snags on something sharp. Her thighs throw open wide and clamp his sides and throw open again so wide it frightens him; she wants, impossible, to turn inside out; the muscles and lips of her expanded underside press against him as a new anatomy115, of another animal. She feels transparent; he sees her heart. So she is first, and waits for him while at a trembling extremity116 of tenderness he traces again and again the arc of her eyebrow117 with his thumb. His sea of seed buckles118, and sobs119 into a still channel. At each shudder120 her mouth smiles in his and her legs, locked at his back, bear down.
She asks in time, "O.K.?"
"You're pretty."
Ruth takes her legs from around him and spills him off her body like a pile of sand. He looks in her face and seems to read in its shadows an expression of forgiveness, as if she knows that at the moment of release, the root of love, he betrayed her by feeling despair. Nature leads you up like a mother and as soon as she gets her little contribution leaves you with nothing. The sweat on his skin is cold in the air; he brings the blankets up from her feet.
"You were a beautiful piece," he says from the pillow listlessly, and touches her soft side. Her flesh still soaks in the act; it ebbs121 slower in her.
"I had forgotten," she says.
"Forgot what?"
"That I could have it too."
"What's it like?"
"Oh. It's like falling through."
"Where do you fall to?"
"Nowhere. I can't talk about it."
He kisses her lips; she's not to blame. She lazily accepts, then in an afterflurry of affection flutters her tongue against his chin.
He loops his arm around her waist and composes himself against her body for sleep.
"Hey. I got to get up."
"Stay."
"I got to go into the bathroom."
"No." He tightens122 his hold.
"Boy, you better let me up."
He murmurs, "Don't scare me," and snuggles more securely against her side. His thigh84 slides over hers, weight on warmth. Wonderful, women, from such hungry wombs to such amiable123 fat. Best bedfriend, fucked woman. Bowl bellies124. Oh, how! when she got up on him like the bell of a big blue lily slipped down on his slow head. He could have hurt her shoving her jaw. He reawakens enough to feel his dry breath drag through sagged125 lips as she rolls from under his leg and arm. "Hey get me a glass of water," he says.
She stands by the edge of the bed, baggy126 in nakedness, and goes off into the bathroom to do her duty. There's that in women repels127 him: handle themselves like an old envelope. Tubes into tubes, wash away men's dirt ?insulting, really. Faucets128 cry. The more awake he gets the more depressed129 he is. From deep in the pillow he stares at the horizontal strip of stained?glass church window that shows beneath the window shade. Its childish bright-ness comes from years away.
Light from behind the closed bathroom door tints130 the air in the bedroom. The splashing sounds are like the sounds his parents would make when as a child Rabbit would waken to realize that they had come upstairs, the whole house would soon be dark, and the sight of morning would be his next sensation. He is asleep when like a faun in moonlight Ruth, washed, creeps back to his side, holding a glass of water.
收听单词发音 |
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shuffle
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| n.拖著脚走，洗纸牌；v.拖曳，慢吞吞地走 | |
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ERECTED
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| adj. 直立的，竖立的，笔直的 vt. 使 ... 直立，建立 | |
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erect
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| n./v.树立，建立，使竖立；adj.直立的，垂直的 | |
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symbolize
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| vt.作为...的象征，用符号代表 | |
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tolls
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| （缓慢而有规律的）钟声( toll的名词复数 )； 通行费； 损耗； （战争、灾难等造成的）毁坏 | |
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descend
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| vt./vi.传下来，下来，下降 | |
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terrain
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| n.地面，地形，地图 | |
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luminous
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| adj.发光的，发亮的；光明的；明白易懂的；有启发的 | |
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pinnacle
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| n.尖塔，尖顶，山峰；(喻)顶峰 | |
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constellation
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| n.星座n.灿烂的一群 | |
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hem
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| n.贴边，镶边；vt.缝贴边；(in)包围，限制 | |
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beaver
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| n.海狸，河狸 | |
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silhouettes
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| 轮廓( silhouette的名词复数 )； （人的）体形； （事物的）形状； 剪影 | |
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limestone
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| n.石灰石 | |
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doorway
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| n.门口，(喻)入门；门路，途径 | |
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brass
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| n.黄铜；黄铜器，铜管乐器 | |
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varnished
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| 浸渍过的，涂漆的 | |
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linoleum
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| n.油布，油毯 | |
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abruptly
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| adv.突然地，出其不意地 | |
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panes
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| 窗玻璃( pane的名词复数 ) | |
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insanity
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| n.疯狂，精神错乱；极端的愚蠢，荒唐 | |
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gauge
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| v.精确计量；估计；n.标准度量；计量器 | |
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ribs
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| n.肋骨( rib的名词复数 )；（船或屋顶等的）肋拱；肋骨状的东西；（织物的）凸条花纹 | |
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24
glides
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| n.滑行( glide的名词复数 )；滑音；音渡；过渡音v.滑动( glide的第三人称单数 )；掠过；（鸟或飞机 ） 滑翔 | |
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25
jaw
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| n.颚，颌，说教，流言蜚语；v.喋喋不休，教训 | |
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26
skull
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| n.头骨；颅骨 | |
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27
scrap
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| n.碎片；废料；v.废弃，报废 | |
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28
squints
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| 斜视症( squint的名词复数 )； 瞥 | |
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29
flip
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| vt.快速翻动；轻抛；轻拍；n.轻抛；adj.轻浮的 | |
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30
socket
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| n.窝，穴，孔，插座，插口 | |
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31
drawn
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| v.拖，拉，拔出；adj.憔悴的，紧张的 | |
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32
bossy
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| adj.爱发号施令的，作威作福的 | |
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33
exasperation
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| n.愤慨 | |
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34
gadgets
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| n.小机械，小器具（ gadget的名词复数 ） | |
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35
transparent
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| adj.明显的，无疑的；透明的 | |
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36
undo
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| vt.解开，松开；取消，撤销 | |
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37
straps
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| n.带子( strap的名词复数 )；挎带；肩带；背带v.用皮带捆扎( strap的第三人称单数 )；用皮带抽打；包扎；给…打绷带 | |
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38
strap
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| n.皮带，带子；v.用带扣住，束牢；用绷带包扎 | |
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39
calves
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| n.(calf的复数)笨拙的男子，腓；腿肚子( calf的名词复数 )；牛犊；腓；小腿肚v.生小牛( calve的第三人称单数 )；（冰川）崩解；生（小牛等），产（犊）；使（冰川）崩解 | |
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40
athletic
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| adj.擅长运动的，强健的；活跃的，体格健壮的 | |
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41
primly
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| adv.循规蹈矩地，整洁地 | |
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42
gush
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| v.喷，涌；滔滔不绝(说话)；n.喷，涌流；迸发 | |
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43
tugs
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| n.猛拉( tug的名词复数 )；猛拖；拖船v.用力拉，使劲拉，猛扯( tug的第三人称单数 ) | |
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44
patchwork
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| n.混杂物；拼缝物 | |
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45
plumbing
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| n.水管装置；水暖工的工作；管道工程v.用铅锤测量（plumb的现在分词）；探究 | |
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46
murmurs
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| n.低沉、连续而不清的声音( murmur的名词复数 )；低语声；怨言；嘀咕 | |
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47
bulge
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| n.突出，膨胀，激增；vt.突出，膨胀 | |
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48
impartiality
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| n. 公平, 无私, 不偏 | |
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49
nibbling
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| v.啃，一点一点地咬（吃）( nibble的现在分词 )；啃出（洞），一点一点咬出（洞）；慢慢减少；小口咬 | |
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50
tickled
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| （使）发痒( tickle的过去式和过去分词 )； （使）愉快，逗乐 | |
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51
crouches
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| n.蹲着的姿势( crouch的名词复数 )v.屈膝，蹲伏( crouch的第三人称单数 ) | |
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52
smothering
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| （使）窒息， （使）透不过气( smother的现在分词 )； 覆盖； 忍住； 抑制 | |
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53
bent
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| n.爱好，癖好；adj.弯的；决心的，一心的 | |
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54
bastard
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| n.坏蛋，混蛋；私生子 | |
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55
metallic
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| adj.金属的；金属制的；含金属的；产金属的；像金属的 | |
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56
withdrawal
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| n.取回，提款；撤退，撤军；收回，撤销 | |
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57
floppy
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| adj.松软的，衰弱的 | |
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58
tilts
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| （意欲赢得某物或战胜某人的）企图，尝试( tilt的名词复数 ) | |
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59
glistening
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| adj.闪耀的，反光的v.湿物闪耀，闪亮( glisten的现在分词 ) | |
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60
silty
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| adj.淤泥的，塞满了淤泥的 | |
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61
makeup
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| n.组织；性格；化装品 | |
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62
creases
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| （使…）起折痕，弄皱( crease的第三人称单数 )； （皮肤）皱起，使起皱纹 | |
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63
crease
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| n.折缝，褶痕，皱褶；v.(使)起皱 | |
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64
brilliance
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| n.光辉，辉煌，壮丽，（卓越的）才华，才智 | |
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65
underneath
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| adj.在...下面，在...底下；adv.在下面 | |
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66
hip
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| n.臀部，髋；屋脊 | |
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67
aroma
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| n.香气，芬芳，芳香 | |
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68
gathering
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| n.集会，聚会，聚集 | |
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69
irritable
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| adj.急躁的；过敏的；易怒的 | |
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70
deftness
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71
extricates
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| v.使摆脱困难，脱身( extricate的第三人称单数 ) | |
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72
elastic
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| n.橡皮圈，松紧带；adj.有弹性的；灵活的 | |
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73
crevice
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| n.(岩石、墙等)裂缝；缺口 | |
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74
crooks
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| n.骗子( crook的名词复数 )；罪犯；弯曲部分；（牧羊人或主教用的）弯拐杖v.弯成钩形( crook的第三人称单数 ) | |
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75
dingy
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| adj.昏暗的，肮脏的 | |
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76
pang
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| n.剧痛，悲痛，苦闷 | |
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77
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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78
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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79
modesty
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| n.谦逊，虚心，端庄，稳重，羞怯，朴素 | |
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80
props
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| 小道具； 支柱( prop的名词复数 )； 支持者； 道具； （橄榄球中的）支柱前锋 | |
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81
belly
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| n.肚子，腹部；(像肚子一样)鼓起的部分，膛 | |
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82
swell
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| vi.膨胀，肿胀；增长，增强 | |
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83
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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84
thigh
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| n.大腿；股骨 | |
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85
rigidity
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| adj.钢性，坚硬 | |
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86
defense
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| n.防御，保卫；[pl.]防务工事；辩护，答辩 | |
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87
knuckle
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| n.指节；vi.开始努力工作；屈服，认输 | |
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88
faucet
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| n.水龙头 | |
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89
wrings
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| 绞( wring的第三人称单数 )； 握紧（尤指别人的手）； 把（湿衣服）拧干； 绞掉（水） | |
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90
snug
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| adj.温暖舒适的，合身的，安全的；v.使整洁干净，舒适地依靠，紧贴；n.（英）酒吧里的私房 | |
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91
writhes
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| （因极度痛苦而）扭动或翻滚( writhe的第三人称单数 ) | |
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92
nostrils
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| 鼻孔( nostril的名词复数 ) | |
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93
abrades
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| v.刮擦( abrade的第三人称单数 )；（在精神方面）折磨（人）；消磨（意志、精神等）；使精疲力尽 | |
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94
smothered
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| （使）窒息， （使）透不过气( smother的过去式和过去分词 )； 覆盖； 忍住； 抑制 | |
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95
mattress
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| n.床垫，床褥 | |
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96
hops
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| 跳上[下]( hop的第三人称单数 )； 单足蹦跳； 齐足（或双足）跳行； 摘葎草花 | |
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97
throbs
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| 体内的跳动( throb的名词复数 ) | |
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98
sobbing
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| <主方>Ⅰ adj.湿透的 | |
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99
coaxing
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| v.哄，用好话劝说( coax的现在分词 )；巧言骗取；哄劝，劝诱；“锻炼”效应 | |
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100
warily
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| adv.留心地 | |
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101
insistent
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| adj.迫切的，坚持的 | |
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102
massages
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| 按摩，推拿( massage的名词复数 ) | |
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103
glazed
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| 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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104
flops
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| n.失败( flop的名词复数 )v.（指书、戏剧等）彻底失败( flop的第三人称单数 )；（因疲惫而）猛然坐下；（笨拙地、不由自主地或松弛地）移动或落下；砸锅 | |
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105
mermaid
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| n.美人鱼 | |
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106
pries
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| v.打听，刺探（他人的私事）( pry的第三人称单数 )；撬开 | |
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107
swirls
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| n.旋转( swirl的名词复数 )；卷状物；漩涡；尘旋v.旋转，打旋( swirl的第三人称单数 ) | |
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108
saliva
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| n.唾液，口水 | |
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109
pollen
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| n.[植]花粉 | |
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110
impatience
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| n.不耐烦，急躁 | |
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111
eyelids
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| n.眼睑( eyelid的名词复数 )；眼睛也不眨一下；不露声色；面不改色 | |
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112
parched
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| adj.焦干的；极渴的；v.（使）焦干 | |
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113
braces
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| n.吊带，背带；托架( brace的名词复数 )；箍子；括弧；（儿童）牙箍v.支住( brace的第三人称单数 )；撑牢；使自己站稳；振作起来 | |
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114
galled
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| v.使…擦痛( gall的过去式和过去分词 )；擦伤；烦扰；侮辱 | |
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115
anatomy
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| n.解剖学，解剖；功能，结构，组织 | |
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116
extremity
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| n.末端，尽头；尽力；终极；极度 | |
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117
eyebrow
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| n.眉毛，眉 | |
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118
buckles
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| 搭扣，扣环( buckle的名词复数 ) | |
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119
sobs
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| 啜泣（声），呜咽（声）( sob的名词复数 ) | |
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120
shudder
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| v.战粟，震动，剧烈地摇晃；n.战粟，抖动 | |
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121
ebbs
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| 退潮( ebb的名词复数 )； 落潮； 衰退 | |
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122
tightens
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| 收紧( tighten的第三人称单数 )； （使）变紧； （使）绷紧； 加紧 | |
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123
amiable
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| adj.和蔼可亲的，友善的，亲切的 | |
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124
bellies
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| n.肚子( belly的名词复数 )；腹部；（物体的）圆形或凸起部份；腹部…形的 | |
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125
sagged
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| 下垂的 | |
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126
baggy
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| adj.膨胀如袋的，宽松下垂的 | |
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127
repels
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| v.击退( repel的第三人称单数 )；使厌恶；排斥；推开 | |
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128
faucets
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| n.水龙头( faucet的名词复数 ) | |
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129
depressed
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| adj.沮丧的，抑郁的，不景气的，萧条的 | |
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130
tints
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| 色彩( tint的名词复数 )； 带白的颜色； （淡色）染发剂； 痕迹 | |
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