“Sorry! I’m scrubbing decks. Come up and bathe. Slept well?” I heard a voice saying from aloft.
“Fairly well,” I growled8, stepping out into a pool of water on the oilcloth. Thence I stumbled up the ladder, dived overboard, and buried bad dreams, stiffness, frowsiness, and tormented9 nerves in the loveliest fiord of the lovely Baltic. A short and furious swim and I was back again, searching for a means of ascent10 up the smooth black side, which, low as it was, was slippery and unsympathetic. Davies, in a loose canvas shirt, with the sleeves tucked up, and flannels11 rolled up to the knee, hung over me with a rope’s end, and chatted unconcernedly about the easiness of the job when you know how, adjuring12 me to mind the paint, and talking about an accommodation ladder he had once had, but had thrown overboard because it was so horribly in the way. When I arrived, my knees and elbows were picked out in black paint, to his consternation13. Nevertheless, as I plied14 the towel, I knew that I had left in those limpid15 depths yet another crust of discontent and self-conceit.
As I dressed into flannels and blazer, I looked round the deck, and with an unskilled and doubtful eye took in all that the darkness had hitherto hidden. She seemed very small (in point of fact she was seven tons), something over thirty feet in length and nine in beam, a size very suitable to week-ends in the Solent, for such as liked that sort of thing; but that she should have come from Dover to the Baltic suggested a world of physical endeavour of which I had never dreamed. I passed to the æsthetic side. Smartness and beauty were essential to yachts, in my mind, but with the best resolves to be pleased I found little encouragement here. The hull16 seemed too low, and the mainmast too high; the cabin roof looked clumsy, and the skylights saddened the eye with dull iron and plebeian17 graining. What brass18 there was, on the tiller-head and elsewhere, was tarnished19 with sickly green. The decks had none of that creamy purity which Cowes expects, but were rough and grey, and showed tarry exhalations round the seams and rusty20 stains near the bows. The ropes and rigging were in mourning when contrasted with the delicate buff manilla so satisfying to the artistic21 eye as seen against the blue of a June sky at Southsea. Nor was the whole effect bettered by many signs of recent refitting. An impression of paint, varnish22, and carpentry was in the air; a gaudy23 new burgee fluttered aloft; there seemed to be a new rope or two, especially round the diminutive24 mizzen-mast, which itself looked altogether new. But all this only emphasised the general plainness, reminding one of a respectable woman of the working-classes trying to dress above her station, and soon likely to give it up.
That the ensemble25 was businesslike and solid even my untrained eye could see. Many of the deck fittings seemed disproportionately substantial. The anchor-chain looked contemptuous of its charge; the binnacle with its compass was of a size and prominence26 almost comically impressive, and was, moreover the only piece of brass which was burnished27 and showed traces of reverent28 care. Two huge coils of stout29 and dingy30 warp31 lay just abaft32 the mainmast, and summed up the weather-beaten aspect of the little ship. I should add here that in the distant past she had been a lifeboat, and had been clumsily converted into a yacht by the addition of a counter, deck, and the necessary spars. She was built, as all lifeboats are, diagonally, of two skins of teak, and thus had immense strength, though, in the matter of looks, all a hybrid’s failings.
Hunger and “Tea’s made!” from below brought me down to the cabin, where I found breakfast laid out on the table over the centreboard case, with Davies earnestly presiding, rather flushed as to the face, and sooty as to the fingers. There was a slight shortage of plate and crockery, but I praised the bacon and could do so truthfully, for its crisp and steaming shavings would have put to shame the efforts of my London cook. Indeed, I should have enjoyed the meal heartily33 were it not for the lowness of the sofa and table, causing a curvature of the body which made swallowing a more lengthy34 process than usual, and induced a periodical yearning35 to get up and stretch—a relief which spelt disaster to the skull36. I noticed, too, that Davies spoke37 with a zest38, sinister39 to me, of the delights of white bread and fresh milk, which he seemed to consider unusual luxuries, though suitable to an inaugural40 banquet in honour of a fastidious stranger. “One can’t be always going on shore,” he said, when I showed a discreet41 interest in these things. “I lived for ten days on a big rye loaf over in the Frisian Islands.”
“And it died hard, I suppose?”
“Very hard, but” (gravely) “quite good. After that I taught myself to make rolls; had no baking powder at first, so used Eno’s fruit salt, but they wouldn’t rise much with that. As for milk, condensed is—I hope you don’t mind it?”
I changed the subject, and asked about his plans.
“Let’s get under way at once,” he said, “and sail down the fiord.” I tried for something more specific, but he was gone, and his voice drowned in the fo’c’sle by the clatter42 and swish of washing up. Thenceforward events moved with bewildering rapidity. Humbly43 desirous of being useful I joined him on deck, only to find that he scarcely noticed me, save as a new and unexpected obstacle in his round of activity. He was everywhere at once—heaving in chain, hooking on halyards, hauling ropes; while my part became that of the clown who does things after they are already done, for my knowledge of a yacht was of that floating and inaccurate44 kind which is useless in practice. Soon the anchor was up (a great rusty monster it was!), the sails set, and Davies was darting45 swiftly to and fro between the tiller and jib-sheets, while the Dulcibella bowed a lingering farewell to the shore and headed for the open fiord. Erratic46 puffs47 from the high land behind made her progress timorous48 at first, but soon the fairway was reached and a true breeze from Flensburg and the west took her in its friendly grip. Steadily49 she rustled50 down the calm blue highway whose soft beauty was the introduction to a passage in my life, short, but pregnant with moulding force, through stress and strain, for me and others.
Davies was gradually resuming his natural self, with abstracted intervals51, in which he lashed52 the helm to finger a distant rope, with such speed that the movements seemed simultaneous. Once he vanished, only to reappear in an instant with a chart, which he studied, while steering54, with a success that its reluctant folds seemed to render impossible. Waiting respectfully for his revival55 I had full time to look about. The fiord here was about a mile broad. From the shore we had left the hills rose steeply, but with no rugged56 grandeur57; the outlines were soft; there were green spaces and rich woods on the lower slopes; a little white town was opening up in one place, and scattered58 farms dotted the prospect59. The other shore, which I could just see, framed between the gunwale and the mainsail, as I sat leaning against the hatchway, and sadly missing a deck-chair, was lower and lonelier, though prosperous and pleasing to the eye. Spacious60 pastures led up by slow degrees to ordered clusters of wood, which hinted at the presence of some great manor61 house. Behind us, Flensburg was settling into haze62. Ahead, the scene was shut in by the contours of hills, some clear, some dreamy and distant. Lastly, a single glimpse of water shining between the folds of hill far away hinted at spaces of distant sea of which this was but a secluded63 inlet. Everywhere was that peculiar64 charm engendered65 by the association of quiet pastoral country and a homely67 human atmosphere with a branch of the great ocean that bathes all the shores of our globe.
There was another charm in the scene, due to the way in which I was viewing it—not as a pampered68 passenger on a “fine steam yacht”, or even on “a powerful modern schooner”, as the yacht agents advertise, but from the deck of a scrubby little craft of doubtful build and distressing69 plainness, which yet had smelt70 her persistent71 way to this distant fiord through I knew not what of difficulty and danger, with no apparent motive72 in her single occupant, who talked as vaguely73 and unconcernedly about his adventurous74 cruise as though it were all a protracted75 afternoon on Southampton Water.
I glanced round at Davies. He had dropped the chart and was sitting, or rather half lying, on the deck with one bronzed arm over the tiller, gazing fixedly76 ahead, with just an occasional glance around and aloft. He still seemed absorbed in himself, and for a moment or two I studied his face with an attention I had never, since I had known him, given it. I had always thought it commonplace, as I had thought him commonplace, so far as I had thought at all about either. It had always rather irritated me by an excess of candour and boyishness. These qualities it had kept, but the scales were falling from my eyes, and I saw others. I saw strength to obstinacy77 and courage to recklessness, in the firm lines of the chin; an older and deeper look in the eyes. Those odd transitions from bright mobility78 to detached earnestness, which had partly amused and chiefly annoyed me hitherto, seemed now to be lost in a sensitive reserve, not cold or egotistic, but strangely winning from its paradoxical frankness. Sincerity80 was stamped on every lineament. A deep misgiving81 stirred me that, clever as I thought myself, nicely perceptive82 of the right and congenial men to know, I had made some big mistakes—how many, I wondered? A relief, scarcely less deep because it was unconfessed, stole in on me with the suspicion that, little as I deserved it, the patient fates were offering me a golden chance of repairing at least one. And yet, I mused79, the patient fates have crooked83 methods, besides a certain mischievous84 humour, for it was Davies who had asked me out—though now he scarcely seemed to need me—almost tricked me into coming out, for he might have known I was not suited to such a life; yet trickery and Davies sounded an odd conjuncture.
Probably it was the growing discomfort85 of my attitude which produced this backsliding. My night’s rest and the “ascent from the bath” had, in fact, done little to prepare me for contact with sharp edges and hard surfaces. But Davies had suddenly come to himself, and with an “I say, are you comfortable? Have something to sit on?” jerked the helm a little to windward, felt it like a pulse for a moment, with a rapid look to windward, and dived below, whence he returned with a couple of cushions, which he threw to me. I felt perversely86 resentful of these luxuries, and asked:
“Can’t I be of any use?”
“Oh, don’t you bother,” he answered. “I expect you’re tired. Aren’t we having a splendid sail? That must be Ekken on the port bow,” peering under the sail, “where the trees run in. I say, do you mind looking at the chart?” He tossed it over to me. I spread it out painfully, for it curled up like a watch-spring at the least slackening of pressure. I was not familiar with charts, and this sudden trust reposed87 in me, after a good deal of neglect, made me nervous.
“You see Flensburg, don’t you?” he said. “That’s where we are,” dabbing88 with a long reach at an indefinite space on the crowded sheet. “Now which side of that buoy89 off the point do we pass?”
I had scarcely taken in which was land and which was water, much less the significance of the buoy, when he resumed:
“Never mind; I’m pretty sure it’s all deep water about here. I expect that marks the fairway for steamers.
In a minute or two we were passing the buoy in question, on the wrong side I am pretty certain, for weeds and sand came suddenly into view below us with uncomfortable distinctness. But all Davies said was:
“There’s never any sea here, and the plate’s not down,” a dark utterance90 which I pondered doubtfully. “The best of these Schleswig waters,” he went on, “is that a boat of this size can go almost anywhere. There’s no navigation required. Why——” At this moment a faint scraping was felt, rather than heard, beneath us.
“Aren’t we aground?” I asked with great calmness.
She “blew over”, but the episode caused a little naïve vexation in Davies. I relate it as a good instance of one of his minor92 peculiarities93. He was utterly94 without that didactic pedantry95 which yachting has a fatal tendency to engender66 in men who profess96 it. He had tossed me the chart without a thought that I was an ignoramus, to whom it would be Greek, and who would provide him with an admirable subject to drill and lecture, just as his neglect of me throughout the morning had been merely habitual98 and unconscious independence. In the second place, master of his métier, as I knew him afterwards to be, resourceful, skilful99, and alert, he was liable to lapse100 into a certain amateurish101 vagueness, half irritating and half amusing. I think truly that both these peculiarities came from the same source, a hatred102 of any sort of affectation. To the same source I traced the fact that he and his yacht observed none of the superficial etiquette103 of yachts and yachtsmen, that she never, for instance, flew a national ensign, and he never wore a “yachting suit”.
We rounded a low green point which I had scarcely noticed before.
“We must jibe,” said Davies: “just take the helm, will you?” and, without waiting for my co-operation, he began hauling in the mainsheet with great vigour104. I had rude notions of steering, but jibing105 is a delicate operation. No yachtsman will be surprised to hear that the boom saw its opportunity and swung over with a mighty106 crash, with the mainsheet entangled107 round me and the tiller.
“Jibed all standing,” was his sorrowful comment. “You’re not used to her yet. She’s very quick on the helm.”
“Oh, don’t trouble, I’ll take her now,” he replied.
I felt it was time to make my position clear. “I’m an utter duffer at sailing,” I began. “You’ll have a lot to teach me, or one of these days I shall be wrecking108 you. You see, there’s always been a crew——”
“Crew!”—with sovereign contempt—“why, the whole fun of the thing is to do everything oneself.”
“Well, I’ve felt in the way the whole morning.”
“I’m awfully109 sorry!” His dismay and repentance110 were comical. “Why, it’s just the other way; you may be all the use in the world.” He became absent.
“That’s Ekken Sound,” said Davies; “let’s look into it,” and a minute or two later we were drifting through a dainty little strait, with a peep of open water at the end of it. Cottages bordered either side, some overhanging the very water, some connecting with it by a rickety wooden staircase or a miniature landing-stage. Creepers and roses rioted over the walls and tiny porches. For a space on one side, a rude quay112, with small smacks113 floating off it, spoke of some minute commercial interests; a very small tea-garden, with neglected-looking bowers114 and leaf-strewn tables, hinted at some equally minute tripping interest. A pervading115 hue116 of mingled117 bronze and rose came partly from the weather-mellowed woodwork of the cottages and stages, and partly from the creepers and the trees behind, where autumn’s subtle fingers were already at work. Down this exquisite118 sea-lane we glided119 till it ended in a broad mere97, where our sails, which had been shivering and complaining, filled into contented120 silence.
“Why not anchor and stop here?” I protested; for a view of tantalising loveliness was unfolding itself.
“Oh, we’ve seen all there is to be seen, and we must take this breeze while we’ve got it.” It was always torture to Davies to feel a good breeze running to waste while he was inactive at anchor or on shore. The “shore” to him was an inferior element, merely serving as a useful annexe to the water—a source of necessary supplies.
“Let’s have lunch,” he pursued, as we resumed our way down the fiord. A vision of iced drinks, tempting122 salads, white napery, and an attentive123 steward124 mocked me with past recollections.
“You’ll find a tongue,” said the voice of doom125, “in the starboard sofa-locker126; beer under the floor in the bilge. I’ll see her round that buoy, if you wouldn’t mind beginning.” I obeyed with a bad grace, but the close air and cramped127 posture128 must have benumbed my faculties129, for I opened the port-side locker, reached down, and grasped a sticky body, which turned out to be a pot of varnish. Recoiling130 wretchedly, I tried the opposite one, combating the embarrassing heel of the boat and the obstructive edges of the centreboard case. A medley131 of damp tins of varied132 sizes showed in the gloom, exuding133 a mouldy odour. Faded legends on dissolving paper, like the remnants of old posters on a disused hoarding134, spoke of soups, curries135, beefs, potted meats, and other hidden delicacies136. I picked out a tongue, re-imprisoned the odour, and explored for beer. It was true, I supposed, that bilge didn’t hurt it, as I tugged137 at the plank138 on my hands and knees, but I should have myself preferred a more accessible and less humid wine-cellar than the cavities among slimy ballast from which I dug the bottles. I regarded my hard-won and ill-favoured pledges of a meal with giddiness and discouragement.
“How are you getting on?” shouted Davies; “the tin-opener’s hanging up on the bulkhead; the plates and knives are in the cupboard.”
I doggedly139 pursued my functions. The plates and knives met me half-way, for, being on the weather side, and thus having a downward slant140, its contents, when I slipped the latch141, slid affectionately into my bosom142, and overflowed143 with a clatter and jingle144 on to the floor.
“That often happens,” I heard from above. “Never mind! There are no breakables. I’m coming down to help.” And down he came, leaving the Dulcibella to her own devices.
“I think I’ll go on deck,” I said. “Why in the world couldn’t you lunch comfortably at Ekken and save this infernal pandemonium145 of a picnic? Where’s the yacht going to meanwhile? And how are we to lunch on that slanting146 table? I’m covered with varnish and mud, and ankle-deep in crockery. There goes the beer!”
“You shouldn’t have stood it on the table with this list on,” said Davies, with intense composure, “but it won’t do any harm; it’ll drain into the bilge” (ashes to ashes, dust to dust, I thought). “You go on deck now, and I’ll finish getting ready.” I regretted my explosion, though wrung147 from me under great provocation148.
“Keep her straight on as she’s going,” said Davies, as I clambered up out of the chaos149, brushing the dust off my trousers and varnishing150 the ladder with my hands. I unlashed the helm and kept her as she was going.
We had rounded a sharp bend in the fiord, and were sailing up a broad and straight reach which every moment disclosed new beauties, sights fair enough to be balm to the angriest spirit. A red-roofed hamlet was on our left, on the right an ivied ruin, close to the water, where some contemplative cattle stood knee-deep. The view ahead was a white strand151 which fringed both shores, and to it fell wooded slopes, interrupted here and there by low sandstone cliffs of warm red colouring, and now and again by a dingle with cracks of greensward.
I forgot petty squalors and enjoyed things—the coy tremble of the tiller and the backwash of air from the dingy mainsail, and, with a somewhat chastened rapture152, the lunch which Davies brought up to me and solicitously153 watched me eat.
Later, as the wind sank to lazy airs, he became busy with a larger topsail and jib; but I was content to doze1 away the afternoon, drenching154 brain and body in the sweet and novel foreign atmosphere, and dreamily watching the fringe of glen cliff and cool white sand as they passed ever more slowly by.
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1
doze
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| v.打瞌睡；n.打盹，假寐 | |
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dozed
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| v.打盹儿，打瞌睡( doze的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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torpor
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| n.迟钝；麻木；（动物的）冬眠 | |
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slumber
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| n.睡眠，沉睡状态 | |
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merges
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| （使）混合( merge的第三人称单数 )； 相融； 融入； 渐渐消失在某物中 | |
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torrent
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| n.激流，洪流；爆发，(话语等的)连发 | |
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upwards
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| adv.向上，在更高处...以上 | |
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growled
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| v.（动物）发狺狺声， （雷）作隆隆声( growl的过去式和过去分词 )；低声咆哮着说 | |
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tormented
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| 饱受折磨的 | |
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ascent
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| n.(声望或地位)提高；上升，升高；登高 | |
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flannels
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| 法兰绒男裤； 法兰绒( flannel的名词复数 ) | |
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adjuring
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| v.（以起誓或诅咒等形式）命令要求( adjure的现在分词 )；祈求；恳求 | |
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consternation
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| n.大为吃惊，惊骇 | |
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plied
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| v.使用（工具）( ply的过去式和过去分词 )；经常供应（食物、饮料）；固定往来；经营生意 | |
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limpid
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| adj.清澈的，透明的 | |
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hull
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| n.船身；(果、实等的)外壳；vt.去(谷物等)壳 | |
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plebeian
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| adj.粗俗的；平民的；n.平民；庶民 | |
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brass
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| n.黄铜；黄铜器，铜管乐器 | |
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tarnished
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| （通常指金属）（使）失去光泽，（使）变灰暗( tarnish的过去式和过去分词 )； 玷污，败坏 | |
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rusty
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| adj.生锈的；锈色的；荒废了的 | |
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artistic
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| adj.艺术(家)的，美术(家)的；善于艺术创作的 | |
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varnish
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| n.清漆；v.上清漆；粉饰 | |
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gaudy
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| adj.华而不实的；俗丽的 | |
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diminutive
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| adj.小巧可爱的，小的 | |
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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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prominence
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| n.突出；显著；杰出；重要 | |
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burnished
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| adj.抛光的，光亮的v.擦亮（金属等），磨光( burnish的过去式和过去分词 )；被擦亮，磨光 | |
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reverent
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| adj.恭敬的，虔诚的 | |
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dingy
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| adj.昏暗的，肮脏的 | |
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warp
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| vt.弄歪，使翘曲，使不正常，歪曲，使有偏见 | |
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abaft
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| prep.在…之后；adv.在船尾，向船尾 | |
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heartily
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| adv.衷心地，诚恳地，十分，很 | |
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lengthy
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| adj.漫长的，冗长的 | |
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yearning
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| a.渴望的；向往的；怀念的 | |
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skull
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| n.头骨；颅骨 | |
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spoke
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| n.（车轮的）辐条；轮辐；破坏某人的计划；阻挠某人的行动 v.讲，谈（speak的过去式）；说；演说；从某种观点来说 | |
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zest
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| n.乐趣；滋味，风味；兴趣 | |
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sinister
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| adj.不吉利的，凶恶的，左边的 | |
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inaugural
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| adj.就职的；n.就职典礼 | |
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discreet
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| adj.(言行)谨慎的；慎重的；有判断力的 | |
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clatter
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| v./n.(使)发出连续而清脆的撞击声 | |
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humbly
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| adv. 恭顺地，谦卑地 | |
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inaccurate
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| adj.错误的，不正确的，不准确的 | |
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darting
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| v.投掷，投射( dart的现在分词 )；向前冲，飞奔 | |
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erratic
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| adj.古怪的，反复无常的，不稳定的 | |
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puffs
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| n.吸( puff的名词复数 )；（烟斗或香烟的）一吸；一缕（烟、蒸汽等）；（呼吸或风的）呼v.使喷出( puff的第三人称单数 )；喷着汽（或烟）移动；吹嘘；吹捧 | |
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timorous
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| adj.胆怯的，胆小的 | |
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steadily
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| adv.稳定地；不变地；持续地 | |
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50
rustled
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| v.发出沙沙的声音( rustle的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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51
intervals
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| 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 | |
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52
lashed
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| adj.具睫毛的v.鞭打( lash的过去式和过去分词 )；煽动；紧系；怒斥 | |
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53
steer
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| vt.驾驶，为…操舵；引导；vi.驾驶 | |
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54
steering
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| n.操舵装置 | |
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55
revival
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| n.复兴，复苏，（精力、活力等的）重振 | |
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56
rugged
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| adj.高低不平的，粗糙的，粗壮的，强健的 | |
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57
grandeur
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| n.伟大，崇高，宏伟，庄严，豪华 | |
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58
scattered
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| adj.分散的，稀疏的；散步的；疏疏落落的 | |
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59
prospect
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| n.前景，前途；景色，视野 | |
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60
spacious
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| adj.广阔的，宽敞的 | |
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61
manor
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| n.庄园，领地 | |
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62
haze
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| n.霾，烟雾；懵懂，迷糊；vi.(over)变模糊 | |
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63
secluded
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| adj.与世隔绝的；隐退的；偏僻的v.使隔开，使隐退( seclude的过去式和过去分词) | |
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64
peculiar
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| adj.古怪的，异常的；特殊的，特有的 | |
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65
engendered
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| v.产生（某形势或状况），造成，引起( engender的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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66
engender
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| v.产生，引起 | |
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67
homely
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| adj.家常的，简朴的；不漂亮的 | |
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68
pampered
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| adj.饮食过量的，饮食奢侈的v.纵容，宠，娇养( pamper的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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69
distressing
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| a.使人痛苦的 | |
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70
smelt
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| v.熔解，熔炼；n.银白鱼，胡瓜鱼 | |
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71
persistent
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| adj.坚持不懈的，执意的；持续的 | |
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72
motive
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| n.动机，目的；adv.发动的，运动的 | |
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73
vaguely
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| adv.含糊地，暖昧地 | |
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74
adventurous
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| adj.爱冒险的；惊心动魄的，惊险的，刺激的 | |
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75
protracted
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| adj.拖延的；延长的v.拖延“protract”的过去式和过去分词 | |
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76
fixedly
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| adv.固定地；不屈地，坚定不移地 | |
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77
obstinacy
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| n.顽固；（病痛等）难治 | |
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78
mobility
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| n.可动性，变动性，情感不定 | |
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79
mused
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| v.沉思，冥想( muse的过去式和过去分词 )；沉思自语说（某事） | |
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80
sincerity
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| n.真诚，诚意；真实 | |
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81
misgiving
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| n.疑虑，担忧，害怕 | |
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82
perceptive
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| adj.知觉的，有洞察力的，感知的 | |
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83
crooked
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| adj.弯曲的；不诚实的，狡猾的，不正当的 | |
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84
mischievous
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| adj.调皮的，恶作剧的，有害的，伤人的 | |
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85
discomfort
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| n.不舒服，不安，难过，困难，不方便 | |
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86
perversely
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| adv. 倔强地 | |
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87
reposed
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| v.将（手臂等）靠在某人（某物）上( repose的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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88
dabbing
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| 石面凿毛，灰泥抛毛 | |
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89
buoy
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| n.浮标；救生圈；v.支持，鼓励 | |
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90
utterance
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| n.用言语表达，话语，言语 | |
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91
wincing
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| 赶紧避开，畏缩( wince的现在分词 ) | |
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92
minor
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| adj.较小(少)的，较次要的；n.辅修学科；vi.辅修 | |
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93
peculiarities
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| n. 特质, 特性, 怪癖, 古怪 | |
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94
utterly
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| adv.完全地，绝对地 | |
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95
pedantry
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| n.迂腐，卖弄学问 | |
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96
profess
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| v.声称，冒称，以...为业，正式接受入教，表明信仰 | |
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97
mere
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| adj.纯粹的；仅仅，只不过 | |
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98
habitual
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| adj.习惯性的；通常的，惯常的 | |
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99
skilful
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| (=skillful)adj.灵巧的，熟练的 | |
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100
lapse
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| n.过失，流逝，失效，抛弃信仰，间隔；vi.堕落，停止，失效，流逝；vt.使失效 | |
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101
amateurish
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| n.业余爱好的，不熟练的 | |
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102
hatred
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| n.憎恶，憎恨，仇恨 | |
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103
etiquette
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| n.礼仪，礼节；规矩 | |
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104
vigour
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| （=vigor）n.智力，体力，精力 | |
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105
jibing
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| v.与…一致( jibe的现在分词 )；（与…）相符；相匹配 | |
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106
mighty
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| adj.强有力的；巨大的 | |
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107
entangled
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| adj.卷入的；陷入的；被缠住的；缠在一起的v.使某人（某物/自己）缠绕，纠缠于（某物中），使某人（自己）陷入（困难或复杂的环境中）( entangle的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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108
wrecking
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| 破坏 | |
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109
awfully
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| adv.可怕地，非常地，极端地 | |
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110
repentance
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| n.懊悔 | |
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111
cleft
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| n.裂缝；adj.裂开的 | |
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112
quay
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| n.码头，靠岸处 | |
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113
smacks
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| 掌掴（声）( smack的名词复数 )； 海洛因； （打的）一拳； 打巴掌 | |
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114
bowers
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| n.（女子的）卧室( bower的名词复数 )；船首锚；阴凉处；鞠躬的人 | |
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115
pervading
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| v.遍及，弥漫( pervade的现在分词 ) | |
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116
hue
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| n.色度；色调；样子 | |
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117
mingled
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| 混合，混入( mingle的过去式和过去分词 )； 混进，与…交往[联系] | |
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118
exquisite
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| adj.精美的；敏锐的；剧烈的，感觉强烈的 | |
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119
glided
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| v.滑动( glide的过去式和过去分词 )；掠过；（鸟或飞机 ） 滑翔 | |
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120
contented
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| adj.满意的，安心的，知足的 | |
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121
callously
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122
tempting
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| a.诱人的, 吸引人的 | |
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123
attentive
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| adj.注意的，专心的；关心(别人)的，殷勤的 | |
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124
steward
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| n.乘务员，服务员；看管人；膳食管理员 | |
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125
doom
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| n.厄运，劫数；v.注定，命定 | |
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126
locker
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| n.更衣箱，储物柜，冷藏室，上锁的人 | |
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127
cramped
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| a.狭窄的 | |
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128
posture
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| n.姿势，姿态，心态，态度；v.作出某种姿势 | |
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129
faculties
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| n.能力( faculty的名词复数 )；全体教职员；技巧；院 | |
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130
recoiling
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| v.畏缩( recoil的现在分词 )；退缩；报应；返回 | |
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131
medley
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| n.混合 | |
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132
varied
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| adj.多样的，多变化的 | |
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133
exuding
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| v.缓慢流出，渗出，分泌出( exude的现在分词 )；流露出对（某物）的神态或感情 | |
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134
hoarding
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| n.贮藏；积蓄；临时围墙；囤积v.积蓄并储藏（某物）( hoard的现在分词 ) | |
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135
curries
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| n.咖喱食品( curry的名词复数 ) | |
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136
delicacies
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| n.棘手( delicacy的名词复数 )；精致；精美的食物；周到 | |
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137
tugged
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| v.用力拉，使劲拉，猛扯( tug的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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138
plank
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| n.板条，木板，政策要点，政纲条目 | |
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139
doggedly
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| adv.顽强地，固执地 | |
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140
slant
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| v.倾斜，倾向性地编写或报道；n.斜面，倾向 | |
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141
latch
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| n.门闩，窗闩；弹簧锁 | |
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142
bosom
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| n.胸，胸部；胸怀；内心；adj.亲密的 | |
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143
overflowed
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| 溢出的 | |
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144
jingle
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| n.叮当声，韵律简单的诗句；v.使叮当作响，叮当响，押韵 | |
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145
pandemonium
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| n.喧嚣，大混乱 | |
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146
slanting
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| 倾斜的，歪斜的 | |
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147
wrung
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| 绞( wring的过去式和过去分词 )； 握紧（尤指别人的手）； 把（湿衣服）拧干； 绞掉（水） | |
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148
provocation
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| n.激怒，刺激，挑拨，挑衅的事物，激怒的原因 | |
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149
chaos
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| n.混乱，无秩序 | |
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150
varnishing
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| 在（某物）上涂清漆( varnish的现在分词 ) | |
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151
strand
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| vt.使（船）搁浅，使（某人）困于（某地） | |
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152
rapture
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| n.狂喜；全神贯注；着迷；v.使狂喜 | |
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153
solicitously
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| adv.热心地，热切地 | |
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154
drenching
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| n.湿透v.使湿透( drench的现在分词 )；在某人（某物）上大量使用（某液体） | |
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