A couple of days sufficed to prove that Thorndyke's mishap1 was not to be productive of any permanent ill consequences; his wounds progressed favourably2 and he was able to resume his ordinary avocations3.
Miss Gibson's visit—but why should I speak of her in these formal terms? To me, when I thought of her, which I did only too often, she was Juliet, with perhaps an adjective thrown in; and as Juliet I shall henceforth speak of her (but without the adjective) in this narrative5, wherein nothing has been kept back from the reader—Juliet's visit, then, had been a great success, for my colleague was really pleased by the attention, and displayed a quiet geniality7 that filled our visitor with delight.
He talked a good deal of Reuben, and I could see that he was endeavouring to settle in his own mind the vexed8 question of her relations with and sentiments towards our unfortunate client; but what conclusions he arrived at I was unable to discover, for he was by no means communicative after she had left. Nor was there any repetition of the visit—greatly to my regret—since, as I have said, he was able, in a day or two, to resume his ordinary mode of life.
The first evidence I had of his renewed activity appeared when I returned to the chambers9 at about eleven o'clock in the morning, to find Polton hovering10 dejectedly about the sitting-room11, apparently12 perpetrating as near an approach to a "spring clean" as could be permitted in a bachelor establishment.
"Hallo, Polton!" I exclaimed, "have you contrived13 to tear yourself away from the laboratory for an hour or two?"
"No, sir," he answered gloomily. "The laboratory has torn itself away from me."
"What do you mean?" I asked.
"The Doctor has shut himself in and locked the door, and he says I am not to disturb him. It will be a cold lunch to-day."
"What is he doing in there?" I inquired.
"Ah!" said Polton, "that's just what I should like to know. I'm fair eaten up with curiosity. He is making some experiments in connection with some of his cases, and when the Doctor locks himself in to make experiments, something interesting generally follows. I should like to know what it is this time."
"I suppose there is a keyhole in the laboratory door?" I suggested, with a grin.
"Sir!" he exclaimed indignantly. "Dr. Jervis, I am surprised at you." Then, perceiving my facetious14 intent, he smiled also and added: "But there is a keyhole if you'd like to try it, though I'll wager15 the Doctor would see more of you than you would of him."
"Yes," he answered. "You see, it's a queer trade this of the Doctor's, and there are some queer secrets in it. Now, for instance, what do you make of this?"
He produced from his pocket a leather case, whence he took a piece of paper which he handed to me. On it was a neatly17 executed drawing of what looked like one of a set of chessmen, with the dimensions written on the margin18.
"It looks like a pawn—one of the Staunton pattern," I said.
"Just what I thought; but it isn't. I've got to make twenty-four of them, and what the Doctor is going to do with them fairly beats me."
"Perhaps he has invented some new game," I suggested facetiously19.
"He is always inventing new games and playing them mostly in courts of law, and then the other players generally lose. But this is a puzzler, and no mistake. Twenty-four of these to be turned up in the best-seasoned boxwood! What can they be for? Something to do with the experiments he is carrying on upstairs at this very moment, I expect." He shook his head, and, having carefully returned the drawing to his pocket-book, said, in a solemn tone—"Sir, there are times when the Doctor makes me fairly dance with curiosity. And this is one of them."
Although not afflicted20 with a curiosity so acute as that of Polton, I found myself speculating at intervals21 on the nature of my colleague's experiments and the purpose of the singular little objects which he had ordered to be made; but I was unacquainted with any of the cases on which he was engaged, excepting that of Reuben Hornby, and with the latter I was quite unable to connect a set of twenty-four boxwood chessmen. Moreover, on this day, I was to accompany Juliet on her second visit to Holloway, and that circumstance gave me abundant mental occupation of another kind.
At lunch, Thorndyke was animated22 and talkative but not communicative. He "had some work in the laboratory that he must do himself," he said, but gave no hint as to its nature; and as soon as our meal was finished, he returned to his labours, leaving me to pace up and down the walk, listening with ridiculous eagerness for the sound of the hansom that was to transport me to the regions of the blest, and—incidentally—to Holloway Prison.
When I returned to the Temple, the sitting-room was empty and hideously23 neat, as the result of Polton's spring-cleaning efforts. My colleague was evidently still at work in the laboratory, and, from the circumstance that the tea-things were set out on the table and a kettle of water placed in readiness on the gas-ring by the fireplace, I gathered that Polton also was full of business and anxious not to be disturbed.
Accordingly, I lit the gas and made my tea, enlivening my solitude24 by turning over in my mind the events of the afternoon.
Juliet had been charming—as she always was—frank, friendly and unaffectedly pleased to have my companionship. She evidently liked me and did not disguise the fact—why should she indeed?—but treated me with a freedom, almost affectionate, as though I had been a favourite brother; which was very delightful25, and would have been more so if I could have accepted the relationship. As to her feelings towards me, I had not the slightest misgiving26, and so my conscience was clear; for Juliet was as innocent as a child, with the innocence27 that belongs to the direct, straightforward28 nature that neither does evil itself nor looks for evil motives29 in others. For myself, I was past praying for. The thing was done and I must pay the price hereafter, content to reflect that I had trespassed30 against no one but myself. It was a miserable31 affair, and many a heartache did it promise me in the lonely days that were to come, when I should have said "good-bye" to the Temple and gone back to my old nomadic32 life; and yet I would not have had it changed if I could; would not have bartered33 the bitter-sweet memories for dull forgetfulness.
But other matters had transpired34 in the course of our drive than those that loomed35 so large to me in the egotism of my love. We had spoken of Mr. Hornby and his affairs, and from our talk there had emerged certain facts of no little moment to the inquiry36 on which I was engaged.
"Misfortunes are proverbially sociable," Juliet had remarked, in reference to her adopted uncle. "As if this trouble about Reuben were not enough, there are worries in the city. Perhaps you have heard of them."
I replied that Walter had mentioned the matter to me.
"Yes," said Juliet rather viciously; "I am not quite clear as to what part that good gentleman has played in the matter. It has come out, quite accidentally, that he had a large holding in the mines himself, but he seems to have 'cut his loss,' as the phrase goes, and got out of them; though how he managed to pay such large differences is more than we can understand. We think he must have raised money somehow to do it."
"Do you know when the mines began to depreciate37?" I asked.
"Yes, it was quite a sudden affair—what Walter calls 'a slump'—and it occurred only a few days before the robbery. Mr. Hornby was telling me about it only yesterday, and he recalled it to me by a ridiculous accident that happened on that day."
"What was that?" I inquired.
"Why, I cut my finger and nearly fainted," she answered, with a shamefaced little laugh. "It was rather a bad cut, you know, but I didn't notice it until I found my hand covered with blood. Then I turned suddenly faint, and had to lie down on the hearthrug—it was in Mr. Hornby's study, which I was tidying up at the time. Here I was found by Reuben, and a dreadful fright it gave him at first; and then he tore up his handkerchief to tie up the wounded finger, and you never saw such an awful mess as he got his hands in. He might have been arrested as a murderer, poor boy, from the condition he was in. It will make your professional gorge38 rise to learn that he fastened up the extemporised bandage with red tape, which he got from the writing table after rooting about among the sacred papers in the most ruthless fashion.
"When he had gone I tried to put the things on the table straight again, and really you might have thought some horrible crime had been committed; the envelopes and papers were all smeared39 with blood and marked with the print of gory40 fingers. I remembered it afterwards, when Reuben's thumb-mark was identified, and thought that perhaps one of the papers might have got into the safe by accident; but Mr. Hornby told me that was impossible; he tore the leaf off his memorandum41 block at the time when he put away the diamonds."
Such was the gist42 of our conversation as the cab rattled43 through the streets on the way to the prison; and certainly it contained matter sufficiently44 important to draw away my thoughts from other subjects, more agreeable, but less relevant to the case. With a sudden remembrance of my duty, I drew forth4 my notebook, and was in the act of committing the statements to writing, when Thorndyke entered the room.
"Don't let me interrupt you, Jervis," said he. "I will make myself a cup of tea while you finish your writing, and then you shall exhibit the day's catch and hang your nets out to dry."
I was not long in finishing my notes, for I was in a fever of impatience45 to hear Thorndyke's comments on my latest addition to our store of information. By the time the kettle was boiling my entries were completed, and I proceeded forthwith to retail46 to my colleague those extracts from my conversation with Juliet that I have just recorded.
He listened, as usual, with deep and critical attention.
"This is very interesting and important," he said, when I had finished; "really, Jervis, you are a most invaluable47 coadjutor. It seems that information, which would be strictly48 withheld49 from the forbidding Jorkins, trickles50 freely and unasked into the ear of the genial6 Spenlow. Now, I suppose you regard your hypothesis as having received very substantial confirmation51?"
"Certainly, I do."
"And very justifiably52. You see now how completely you were in the right when you allowed yourself to entertain this theory of the crime in spite of its apparent improbability. By the light of these new facts it has become quite a probable explanation of the whole affair, and if it could only be shown that Mr. Hornby's memorandum block was among the papers on the table, it would rise to a high degree of probability. The obvious moral is, never disregard the improbable. By the way, it is odd that Reuben failed to recall this occurrence when I questioned him. Of course, the bloody53 finger-marks were not discovered until he had gone, but one would have expected him to recall the circumstance when I asked him, pointedly54, if he had never left bloody finger-prints on any papers."
"I must try to find out if Mr. Hornby's memorandum block was on the table and among the marked papers," I said.
"Yes, that would be wise," he answered, "though I don't suppose the information will be forthcoming."
My colleague's manner rather disappointed me. He had heard my report with the greatest attention, he had discussed it with animation55, but yet he seemed to attach to the new and—as they appeared to me—highly important facts an interest that was academic rather than practical. Of course, his calmness might be assumed; but this did not seem likely, for John Thorndyke was far too sincere and dignified56 a character to cultivate in private life the artifices57 of the actor. To strangers, indeed, he presented habitually58 a calm and impassive exterior59; but this was natural to him, and was but the outward sign of his even and judicial60 habit of mind.
No; there was no doubt that my startling news had left him unmoved, and this must be for one of two reasons: either he already knew all that I had told him (which was perfectly61 possible), or he had some other and better means of explaining the crime. I was turning over these two alternatives, not unobserved by my watchful62 colleague, when Polton entered the room; a broad grin was on his face, and a drawing-board, that he carried like a tray, bore twenty-four neatly turned boxwood pieces.
Thorndyke at once entered into the unspoken jest that beamed from the countenance63 of his subordinate.
"Here is Polton with a problem for you, Jervis," he said. "He assumes that I have invented a new parlour game, and has been trying to work out the moves. Have you succeeded yet, Polton?"
"Perhaps you are right," said Thorndyke; "but that doesn't take you very far. Let us hear what Dr. Jervis has to say."
"I can make nothing of them," I answered. "Polton showed me the drawing this morning, and then was terrified lest he had committed a breach65 of confidence, and I have been trying ever since, without a glimmer66 of success, to guess what they can be for."
"H'm," grunted67 Thorndyke, as he sauntered up and down the room, teacup in hand, "to guess, eh? I like not that word 'guess' in the mouth of a man of science. What do you mean by a 'guess'?"
"By a guess, I mean a conclusion arrived at without data."
"Impossible!" he exclaimed, with mock sternness. "Nobody but an utter fool arrives at a conclusion without data."
"Then I must revise my definition instantly," I rejoined. "Let us say that a guess is a conclusion drawn69 from insufficient70 facts."
"That is better," said he; "but perhaps it would be better still to say that a guess is a particular and definite conclusion deduced from facts which properly yield only a general and indefinite one. Let us take an instance," he continued. "Looking out of the window, I see a man walking round Paper Buildings. Now suppose I say, after the fashion of the inspired detective of the romances, 'That man is a stationmaster or inspector,' that would be a guess. The observed facts do not yield the conclusion, though they do warrant a conclusion less definite and more general."
"You'd have been right though, sir!" exclaimed Polton, who had stepped forward with me to examine the unconscious subject of the demonstration71. "That gent used to be the stationmaster at Camberwell. I remember him well."
The little man was evidently greatly impressed.
"I happen to be right, you see," said Thorndyke; "but I might as easily have been wrong."
In his admiration73 of the result he cared not a fig74 for the correctness of the means by which it had been attained75.
"Now why do I suggest that he is a stationmaster?" pursued Thorndyke, disregarding his assistant's comment.
"I suppose you were looking at his feet," I answered. "I seem to have noticed that peculiar76, splay-footed gait in stationmasters, now that you mention it."
"Quite so. The arch of the foot has given way; the plantar ligaments have become stretched and the deep calf77 muscles weakened. Then, since bending of the weakened arch causes discomfort78, the feet have become turned outwards79, by which the bending of the foot is reduced to a minimum; and as the left foot is the more flattened80, so it is turned out more than the right. Then the turning out of the toes causes the legs to splay outward from the knees downwards—a very conspicuous81 condition in a tall man like this one—and you notice that the left leg splays out more than the other.
"But we know that depression of the arch of the foot is brought about by standing82 for long periods. Continuous pressure on a living structure weakens it, while intermittent83 pressure strengthens it; so the man who stands on his feet continuously develops a flat instep and a weak calf, while the professional dancer or runner acquires a high instep and a strong calf. Now there are many occupations which involve prolonged standing and so induce the condition of flat foot: waiters, hall-porters, hawkers, policemen, shop-walkers, salesmen, and station officials are examples. But the waiter's gait is characteristic—a quick, shuffling84 walk which enables him to carry liquids without spilling them. This man walks with a long, swinging stride; he is obviously not a waiter. His dress and appearance in general exclude the idea of a hawker or even a hall-porter; he is a man of poor physique and so cannot be a policeman. The shop-walker or salesman is accustomed to move in relatively85 confined spaces, and so acquires a short, brisk step, and his dress tends to rather exuberant86 smartness; the station official patrols long platforms, often at a rapid pace, and so tends to take long strides, while his dress is dignified and neat rather than florid. The last-mentioned characteristics, you see, appear in the subject of our analysis; he agrees with the general description of a stationmaster. But if we therefore conclude that he is a stationmaster, we fall into the time-honoured fallacy of the undistributed middle term—the fallacy that haunts all brilliant guessers, including the detective, not only of romance, but too often also of real life. All that the observed facts justify87 us in inferring is that this man is engaged in some mode of life that necessitates88 a good deal of standing; the rest is mere89 guess-work."
"It's wonderful," said Polton, gazing at the now distant figure; "perfectly wonderful. I should never have known he was a stationmaster." With this and a glance of deep admiration at his employer, he took his departure.
"You will also observe," said Thorndyke, with a smile, "that a fortunate guess often brings more credit than a piece of sound reasoning with a less striking result."
"Yes, that is unfortunately the case, and it is certainly true in the present instance. Your reputation, as far as Polton is concerned, is now firmly established even if it was not before. In his eyes you are a wizard from whom nothing is hidden. But to return to these little pieces, as I must call them, for the lack of a better name. I can form no hypothesis as to their use. I seem to have no 'departure,' as the nautical90 phrase goes, from which to start an inquiry. I haven't even the material for guess-work. Ought I to be able to arrive at any opinion on the subject?"
Thorndyke picked up one of the pieces, fingering it delicately and inspecting with a critical eye the flat base on which it stood, and reflected for a few moments.
"It is easy to trace a connection when one knows all the facts," he said at length, "but it seems to me that you have the materials from which to form a conjecture91. Perhaps I am wrong, but I think, when you have had more experience, you will find yourself able to work out a problem of this kind. What is required is constructive92 imagination and a rigorous exactness in reasoning. Now, you are a good reasoner, and you have recently shown me that you have the necessary imagination; you merely lack experience in the use of your faculties93. When you learn my purpose in having these things made—as you will before long—you will probably be surprised that their use did not occur to you. And now let us go forth and take a brisk walk to refresh ourselves (or perhaps I should say myself) after the day's labour.
点击收听单词发音
1 mishap | |
n.不幸的事,不幸;灾祸 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
2 favourably | |
adv. 善意地,赞成地 =favorably | |
参考例句: |
|
|
3 avocations | |
n.业余爱好,嗜好( avocation的名词复数 );职业 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
4 forth | |
adv.向前;向外,往外 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
5 narrative | |
n.叙述,故事;adj.叙事的,故事体的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
6 genial | |
adj.亲切的,和蔼的,愉快的,脾气好的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
7 geniality | |
n.和蔼,诚恳;愉快 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
8 vexed | |
adj.争论不休的;(指问题等)棘手的;争论不休的问题;烦恼的v.使烦恼( vex的过去式和过去分词 );使苦恼;使生气;详细讨论 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
9 chambers | |
n.房间( chamber的名词复数 );(议会的)议院;卧室;会议厅 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
10 hovering | |
鸟( hover的现在分词 ); 靠近(某事物); (人)徘徊; 犹豫 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
11 sitting-room | |
n.(BrE)客厅,起居室 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
12 apparently | |
adv.显然地;表面上,似乎 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
13 contrived | |
adj.不自然的,做作的;虚构的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
14 facetious | |
adj.轻浮的,好开玩笑的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
15 wager | |
n.赌注;vt.押注,打赌 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
16 mighty | |
adj.强有力的;巨大的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
17 neatly | |
adv.整洁地,干净地,灵巧地,熟练地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
18 margin | |
n.页边空白;差额;余地,余裕;边,边缘 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
19 facetiously | |
adv.爱开玩笑地;滑稽地,爱开玩笑地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
20 afflicted | |
使受痛苦,折磨( afflict的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
21 intervals | |
n.[军事]间隔( interval的名词复数 );间隔时间;[数学]区间;(戏剧、电影或音乐会的)幕间休息 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
22 animated | |
adj.生气勃勃的,活跃的,愉快的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
23 hideously | |
adv.可怕地,非常讨厌地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
24 solitude | |
n. 孤独; 独居,荒僻之地,幽静的地方 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
25 delightful | |
adj.令人高兴的,使人快乐的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
26 misgiving | |
n.疑虑,担忧,害怕 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
27 innocence | |
n.无罪;天真;无害 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
28 straightforward | |
adj.正直的,坦率的;易懂的,简单的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
29 motives | |
n.动机,目的( motive的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
30 trespassed | |
(trespass的过去式与过去分词形式) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
31 miserable | |
adj.悲惨的,痛苦的;可怜的,糟糕的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
32 nomadic | |
adj.流浪的;游牧的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
33 bartered | |
v.作物物交换,以货换货( barter的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
34 transpired | |
(事实,秘密等)被人知道( transpire的过去式和过去分词 ); 泄露; 显露; 发生 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
35 loomed | |
v.隐约出现,阴森地逼近( loom的过去式和过去分词 );隐约出现,阴森地逼近 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
36 inquiry | |
n.打听,询问,调查,查问 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
37 depreciate | |
v.降价,贬值,折旧 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
38 gorge | |
n.咽喉,胃,暴食,山峡;v.塞饱,狼吞虎咽地吃 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
39 smeared | |
弄脏; 玷污; 涂抹; 擦上 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
40 gory | |
adj.流血的;残酷的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
41 memorandum | |
n.备忘录,便笺 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
42 gist | |
n.要旨;梗概 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
43 rattled | |
慌乱的,恼火的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
44 sufficiently | |
adv.足够地,充分地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
45 impatience | |
n.不耐烦,急躁 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
46 retail | |
v./n.零售;adv.以零售价格 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
47 invaluable | |
adj.无价的,非常宝贵的,极为贵重的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
48 strictly | |
adv.严厉地,严格地;严密地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
49 withheld | |
withhold过去式及过去分词 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
50 trickles | |
n.细流( trickle的名词复数 );稀稀疏疏缓慢来往的东西v.滴( trickle的第三人称单数 );淌;使)慢慢走;缓慢移动 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
51 confirmation | |
n.证实,确认,批准 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
52 justifiably | |
adv.无可非议地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
53 bloody | |
adj.非常的的;流血的;残忍的;adv.很;vt.血染 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
54 pointedly | |
adv.尖地,明显地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
55 animation | |
n.活泼,兴奋,卡通片/动画片的制作 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
56 dignified | |
a.可敬的,高贵的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
57 artifices | |
n.灵巧( artifice的名词复数 );诡计;巧妙办法;虚伪行为 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
58 habitually | |
ad.习惯地,通常地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
59 exterior | |
adj.外部的,外在的;表面的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
60 judicial | |
adj.司法的,法庭的,审判的,明断的,公正的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
61 perfectly | |
adv.完美地,无可非议地,彻底地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
62 watchful | |
adj.注意的,警惕的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
63 countenance | |
n.脸色,面容;面部表情;vt.支持,赞同 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
64 wig | |
n.假发 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
65 breach | |
n.违反,不履行;破裂;vt.冲破,攻破 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
66 glimmer | |
v.发出闪烁的微光;n.微光,微弱的闪光 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
67 grunted | |
(猪等)作呼噜声( grunt的过去式和过去分词 ); (指人)发出类似的哼声; 咕哝着说 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
68 professed | |
公开声称的,伪称的,已立誓信教的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
69 drawn | |
v.拖,拉,拔出;adj.憔悴的,紧张的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
70 insufficient | |
adj.(for,of)不足的,不够的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
71 demonstration | |
n.表明,示范,论证,示威 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
72 spotted | |
adj.有斑点的,斑纹的,弄污了的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
73 admiration | |
n.钦佩,赞美,羡慕 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
74 fig | |
n.无花果(树) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
75 attained | |
(通常经过努力)实现( attain的过去式和过去分词 ); 达到; 获得; 达到(某年龄、水平、状况) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
76 peculiar | |
adj.古怪的,异常的;特殊的,特有的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
77 calf | |
n.小牛,犊,幼仔,小牛皮 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
78 discomfort | |
n.不舒服,不安,难过,困难,不方便 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
79 outwards | |
adj.外面的,公开的,向外的;adv.向外;n.外形 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
80 flattened | |
[医](水)平扁的,弄平的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
81 conspicuous | |
adj.明眼的,惹人注目的;炫耀的,摆阔气的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
82 standing | |
n.持续,地位;adj.永久的,不动的,直立的,不流动的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
83 intermittent | |
adj.间歇的,断断续续的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
84 shuffling | |
adj. 慢慢移动的, 滑移的 动词shuffle的现在分词形式 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
85 relatively | |
adv.比较...地,相对地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
86 exuberant | |
adj.充满活力的;(植物)繁茂的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
87 justify | |
vt.证明…正当(或有理),为…辩护 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
88 necessitates | |
使…成为必要,需要( necessitate的第三人称单数 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
89 mere | |
adj.纯粹的;仅仅,只不过 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
90 nautical | |
adj.海上的,航海的,船员的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
91 conjecture | |
n./v.推测,猜测 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
92 constructive | |
adj.建设的,建设性的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
93 faculties | |
n.能力( faculty的名词复数 );全体教职员;技巧;院 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
欢迎访问英文小说网 |