Of all the crew only Gaskin remained in good condition. It would have required more than a hero to cook food and go hungry, but the crew made no such allowances. They berated3 the dignified4 Gaskin, they eyed each other's scant5 portions jealously. Their quarrels over food at last forced Madden to weigh each man's allowance to the fraction of an ounce.
The nerves of the crew frayed6 out in the heat. By night they slept amid tantalizing7 dreams of food; by day they sprawled8 in dreary9 silences under awnings10 which held heat like sweat boxes. The high metal walls of the dock caught the sun's rays and threw out a furnace heat. The men endured it in net undershirts clinging to dripping bodies; their eyes ached against the glare, their stomachs rebelled, their brains sickened with monotony and despair.
The men developed little personal traits that exasperated12 their mates unreasonably13. Mulcher had a way of breathing aloud through his coarse lips that chafed14 Hogan's temper. For hours at a time the Irishman would stare at those flabby spewing lips, filled with a desire to maul them. Yet before this isolation15, he had never observed that Mulcher breathed aloud.
The only occupation the men had now was to stare at, listen to and criticise16 each other. All painting had ceased, for work consumes energy, and energy consumes food.
Caradoc Smith found peculiar17 and private grievance18 in the fact that Greer often whistled to himself in a windy undertone. The tune19 Farnol chose for these unfortunate performances was an American ragtime20, that repeated the same strain over and over.
Caradoc strove not to listen to this dry whistling. Sometimes he left his awning11 and climbed up the walls through the sapping sun's rays to escape it, but his ears caught the faintly aspirated air at remarkable21 distances.
One day he said to Madden: "I don't see how you stand that Greer fellow's eternal whistling," and Leonard answered:
"Does Greer whistle?"
"Whistle! He whistles everlastingly22, abominably—one of those confounded American rags. He's at it now—what is that thing?"
Madden had to listen very carefully before he caught the faint blowing between Farnol's lips. Presently he identified it.
"That's 'Winona, Sweet Indian Maid.'"
This reply seemed to arouse an irrational23 anger in the Briton.
"'Winona, Sweet Indian Maid'—sweet Indian Maid!" he snorted. "Did an Indian write such a nightmare? Is it a war song? Do they murder each other by it, or with it?"
Madden grinned with fagged appreciation24, thinking the remark meant for humor, but Caradoc grimly chewed his blond mustache.
It was noon, three days later when Caradoc's endurance broke down.
"Greer!" he snapped with all his pent-up irritation25 in his voice, "will you never stop mouthing that beastly tune?"
"No, groaning27, wheezing28! You spew it out all day long! What do you think you are? A tree frog, a locust29, a katydid? Doesn't your mouth get tired? Does that hideous30 tinkle31 go through your hollow head all day long?"
The Englishman's long face was a dusky red. He had not intended to be insulting when he first spoke32, but all the sarcastic33 and abusive epithets34 that he had thought during the long super-heated days of nerve-racked listening, now rushed out like steam from a boiler35.
Farnol stared straight at the nervous fellow. "Are you insane?" he asked in wondering contempt,
"A wonder I'm not—with that diabolical36 wheezy spewing boring in my brain—you never stop a minute—over and over——"
The whole crew came to hushed attention.
Caradoc seemed to collect himself with a great effort. The blood ebbed38 from his face, leaving it the color of clay.
"Stolen?" he asked in a contained voice. "Yes, isn't there another medicine case for you to steal?"
"Greer!" cried Madden reproachfully. The American knew it was hunger, heat and nerves that were nagging39 these two miserable40 men to quarrel.
"I believe he said I was no gentleman," pronounced Greer sarcastically41, "because I didn't know a little French. I say he's a thief."
Caradoc was drawing long breaths through dilated42 nostrils43. "Mr. Greer," he said with cold evenness, "it is impossible to obtain swords or pistols on this dock. We will have to fight with our hands. Choose a second!"
Greer nodded shortly. Both men got to their feet and both glanced at Madden.
The American shook his head. "I can't serve for either of you. I'm in command here. I'm impartial44."
"Will you oblige me, Mr. Deschaillon?" asked Smith with a set face.
The Irishman leaped to his feet joyfully47. "Oi'm wid ye, Misther Greer, and we'll bate48 th' long face off th' spalpeen, though I hate to hit Frinchy Dashalong, who is a good frind o' mine."
All the men were up now circling about the principals.
"You don't have to do no fightin', 'Ogan," explained Galton, "you simply stand by and 'old up for your man, an' 'elp fan 'im 'twixt rounds."
"Rounds!" exclaimed the disgusted Irishman. "I thought they were choosin' sides for a free-for-all."
Caradoc began methodically stripping to the waist and Greer followed suit. The Englishman presented his watch to Madden with a slight bow.
"If you'll be so kind as to keep time," he suggested, "that's a neutral position. We fight four minutes and rest one."
Madden considered the warlike preparations askance. He wondered if he ought not to stop it. The Englishman might suffer another sunstroke. However, he took his station at the ringside, and glanced at the watch, which had a coat of arms carved on the inside of its hunting case.
There was a striking contrast between the two fighters. The Englishman was a beautiful taper49 from his great shoulders to his small aristocratic feet. His muscles were long, graceful50 and knitted across his arms, chest, and stomach like lace leather. He was built for swift enduring action and could only have sprung from a race of men who had spent their lives in play and luxury.
Farnol Greer, on the other hand, was as heavily moulded as a bulldog. His arms were short and blocky; his shoulders welted with brawn51; his chest was two hairy hills, like a gorilla's, while across his stomach muscles lay ridged like ropes. His waist was thick with pones of sinew bulging52 over the hips54, as one sees in the statue of Discobolus. It was plain that Greer had labored55 tremendously all his life and that his strength was simply wonderful.
It struck Madden as a strange coincidence that these two extreme types of luxury and labor56 should meet in this furnace on the Sargasso and fight for the trivial reason that one offended the other's sense of music.
"All ready!" called Leonard.
The two men squared away at each other, Caradoc smiling sarcastically, Greer grim as a gallows57. Utter silence fell over the crowd. The fighters crouched58, bare fists up, staring at each other over the tips of their guards.
For a moment Smith shifted around his man on his toes. He seemed as light as a cat. Greer stood solid and merely turned on his flat feet. Suddenly Caradoc's long right whipped out with a crack against the shorter man's forehead. Greer made no sign of having received a blow, although a dull red splotch slowly formed on his frontal. Caradoc led another right, which Greer blocked, then the Englishman bored through with a stinging left to the hairy chest.
"Go afther him! Kill him!" cried Hogan to his principal. "Nixt toime he thries to hit ye, knock off his head for his impidence!"
"Aye, 'it 'im! Don't take nothin' off of 'im!" advised two of the cockneys. Sympathy lay with the smaller man.
Smith continued his tiptoe dance and led a straight right. Instantly his massive enemy ducked, leaped in under his guard, and there came the dull thud of in-fighting; Greer's black head jammed up against Caradoc's chin, his great muscular back bent60 half double, his tremendous arms working like pistons61.
The crew howled at this sharp unexpected attack. Caradoc rescued himself by shoving open palms against the big bulging shoulders, and pushing himself away from this battering62 ram63. Smith bumped into some onlookers64, and got behind his guard some ten feet away from Greer. The Englishman's fine-grained stomach was covered with pink welts from his punishment. He had ceased smiling and was watching his man carefully. As a matter of fact, he had expected to dispose of Greer easily—as a gentleman disposes of a clod-hopper. But the heavy-set boy's method of fighting was new and effective. Likewise there seemed to be a certain grim system about it.
"First round is over!" called Madden.
"Phwat a shame!" cried Hogan.
With English love of fair fight, the cockneys divided themselves impartially65 between the battlers and converted themselves into impromptu66 rubbers and handlers. There was perhaps not a man in the crowd who liked Caradoc; nevertheless they hustled67 him to his awning, put him down on a box, procured68 towels, water, sponges from somewhere, and set up a vigorous fanning and rubbing, all out of a desire to see fair play. At the end of a minute they carried their champions back and set them facing each other like human game cocks.
Farnol dashed in at once, whipping right and left hooks to Smith's sides. Caradoc tore himself away and played for distance, stabbing at Farnol's head at long range. The short youth accepted with indifference69 punishment that cut cheeks and lips. He made rush after rush, driving Caradoc into the crowd, who immediately shifted back and made room. Time and again he landed terrific short arm jolts71 over heart and kidneys.
The sweating bodies of the fighters glistened72 in the roasting sunshine. Both were bruised73, Smith's body, Greer's head and shoulders. Caradoc's mouth felt slimy and he spit at nothing.
The fighting went in spurts74, Greer rushing Land Smith dancing away and stabbing. The two gangs of rubbers bawled75 encouragement to their men.
"Land on 'is nose there, Smith!" shouted Mulcher. "Don't let 'im to ye! Play away, play away, me boy! Now huppercut 'im! Huppercut 'im, I say!"
On the other side, Galton was shrieking76 hoarsely77, "Bore in, Greer! Bore in, me lad!" and Hogan, "G'wan and mash78 the spalpeen's ribs79! Br-reak his long nick! Cr-rush him! Why don't ye hit him on th' head and lay him out?"
"Time's up!" announced Madden.
During the following rounds, Caradoc stuck to the long range English method of fighting, but over and over Farnol broke through his guard and his short-arm jabs spread a sick numb80 feeling over Caradoc's sides and chest.
The Briton deliberately81 worked for Greer's eyes. His first round with the silent man convinced him that he would never be able to stop that massive steel body with a knock-out. On the other hand Greer covered up tightly and lunged like a tiger after Smith's stomach and endurance.
Two or three weeks before, Caradoc could never have withstood that terrific bombardment, but his hard life on the dock, his abstinence from alcohol, and the fact that tobacco had long ago run out, all this had armored his body with hard flesh.
The opening of the twelfth round found both fighters blown, bleeding and filled with a desperate determination to end the contest. They formed a ghastly sight when they were pitted in what proved to be the final clash. Greer's face was chopped and bleeding, while Caradoc's ribs were a mass of bruises82, as mottled as a leopard's skin.
To Caradoc, the whole dock seemed unsteady. The sun bored into the back of his head. The men had ceased yelling, and the circle silently swayed back and forth83 to give the battlers room. The whole scene was hazy84 and fantastic.
The Englishman put up his hands automatically when he faced his enemy, and the next moment black-haired blocky bull of a fellow charged furiously. Smith tried to stop him with a heavy right hand smash, but his fist glanced off the man's sweaty shoulder. The next moment, Greer's right landed in a fierce solid jolt70 on Smith's hip53 bone. A sickening pain went through the Englishman. He sagged85 away and went down on a knee, hunched86 forward, trying to protect his face with his gloves. Greer Started another rush, when Madden jumped in, put a hand on his shoulder.
"You can't hit him while he's down!" he shouted in the bull's ear, and then the American began counting: "One, two, three..."
Caradoc rested with his broad chest panting convulsively up and down till the count of eight. Then he sprang backwards87 away from his enemy. Curiously88 enough, Greer did not press his advantage home. The heavy lad came forward but stood away from Caradoc, attempting nothing but left-hand jabs.
In an instant Smith saw what was the matter. That blow on the hip had ruined Greer's right hand, strained it, perhaps broken it. Greer's rushes had stopped, and Smith, who was a boxer89, not a fighter, could stand off and peck at his man's eyes or jaw90 without danger to himself.
He hitched91 wearily up to his enemy, blocked Greer's left hand and let his right have a full swing at his exposed body. Farnol went through the motion of striking, but his blow was a mere59 tap and caused the heavy fellow to cringe with pain.
Caradoc swung a light blow to the neck. Greer countered fiercely with his left, but it was parried easily.
Suddenly the crowd understood what had happened.
"Put 'im out!" "Finish 'im!" "Put 'im to sleep!" bawled a chorus. "He hit you below th' belt w'en 'e broke 'is 'and!"
Farnol continued his chopping one-armed fight. "Put me out! Put me out!" he bubbled furiously. "I said ye was a thief! You are a thief! You're a thief!" and he accented his charges with stabs.
Smith side-stepped the harmless attack, letting it slide first to one side then the other, men were so tired they could hardly keep their feet. The Englishman looked down on the stubborn fellow, with his chopped, bleeding face and blackened, defiant92 eyes. A hard swing at unprotected jaw would stretch him out in broiling93 heat, but he did not make the blow. Instead he pushed the frothing fellow away from him.
"Go to your corner and cool off," he panted. "Yes, I'm a thief. Go on away; I don't want knock you out."
He turned his back deliberately and walked to his own awning. The crowd stared, absolutely dumfounded by this unexpected turn of affairs. Greer himself stared, then moved forward automatically to continue his onslaught, when Hogan grabbed him.
"Come on back," cried the Irishman. "Th' scoundrel has lift ye no ixcuse to fight him any more. He says he's a thafe, but I don't belave Come git a wash and let's wrap up yer hand."
At that moment the dignified voice of Gaskin came from the forward pontoon. The crew hushed their hot comments on the fight to listen.
"A sail," called the cook. "A sail to th' sou'west, sir!"
Instantly every man moved forward. The fight was forgot in the great hope of a rescue. Even the gory94 looking principals hurried forward to see if such welcome news could be true.
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1
gnawed
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咬( gnaw的过去式和过去分词 ); (长时间) 折磨某人; (使)苦恼; (长时间)危害某事物 | |
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withering
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使人畏缩的,使人害羞的,使人难堪的 | |
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3
berated
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v.严厉责备,痛斥( berate的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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dignified
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a.可敬的,高贵的 | |
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scant
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adj.不充分的,不足的;v.减缩,限制,忽略 | |
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frayed
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adj.磨损的v.(使布、绳等)磨损,磨破( fray的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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tantalizing
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adj.逗人的;惹弄人的;撩人的;煽情的v.逗弄,引诱,折磨( tantalize的现在分词 ) | |
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sprawled
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v.伸开四肢坐[躺]( sprawl的过去式和过去分词);蔓延;杂乱无序地拓展;四肢伸展坐着(或躺着) | |
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dreary
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adj.令人沮丧的,沉闷的,单调乏味的 | |
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10
awnings
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篷帐布 | |
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awning
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n.遮阳篷;雨篷 | |
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exasperated
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adj.恼怒的 | |
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unreasonably
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adv. 不合理地 | |
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chafed
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v.擦热(尤指皮肤)( chafe的过去式 );擦痛;发怒;惹怒 | |
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15
isolation
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n.隔离,孤立,分解,分离 | |
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criticise
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v.批评,评论;非难 | |
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peculiar
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adj.古怪的,异常的;特殊的,特有的 | |
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18
grievance
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n.怨愤,气恼,委屈 | |
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tune
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n.调子;和谐,协调;v.调音,调节,调整 | |
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ragtime
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n.拉格泰姆音乐 | |
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remarkable
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adj.显著的,异常的,非凡的,值得注意的 | |
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everlastingly
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永久地,持久地 | |
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irrational
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adj.无理性的,失去理性的 | |
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appreciation
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n.评价;欣赏;感谢;领会,理解;价格上涨 | |
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irritation
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n.激怒,恼怒,生气 | |
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stolid
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adj.无动于衷的,感情麻木的 | |
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groaning
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adj. 呜咽的, 呻吟的 动词groan的现在分词形式 | |
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wheezing
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v.喘息,发出呼哧呼哧的喘息声( wheeze的现在分词 );哮鸣 | |
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locust
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n.蝗虫;洋槐,刺槐 | |
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hideous
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adj.丑陋的,可憎的,可怕的,恐怖的 | |
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tinkle
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vi.叮当作响;n.叮当声 | |
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32
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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sarcastic
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adj.讥讽的,讽刺的,嘲弄的 | |
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epithets
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n.(表示性质、特征等的)词语( epithet的名词复数 ) | |
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boiler
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n.锅炉;煮器(壶,锅等) | |
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diabolical
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adj.恶魔似的,凶暴的 | |
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malice
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n.恶意,怨恨,蓄意;[律]预谋 | |
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ebbed
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(指潮水)退( ebb的过去式和过去分词 ); 落; 减少; 衰落 | |
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nagging
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adj.唠叨的,挑剔的;使人不得安宁的v.不断地挑剔或批评(某人)( nag的现在分词 );不断地烦扰或伤害(某人);无休止地抱怨;不断指责 | |
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miserable
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adj.悲惨的,痛苦的;可怜的,糟糕的 | |
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sarcastically
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adv.挖苦地,讽刺地 | |
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dilated
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adj.加宽的,扩大的v.(使某物)扩大,膨胀,张大( dilate的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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nostrils
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鼻孔( nostril的名词复数 ) | |
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impartial
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adj.(in,to)公正的,无偏见的 | |
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saluted
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v.欢迎,致敬( salute的过去式和过去分词 );赞扬,赞颂 | |
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dourly
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47
joyfully
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adv. 喜悦地, 高兴地 | |
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48
bate
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v.压制;减弱;n.(制革用的)软化剂 | |
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49
taper
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n.小蜡烛,尖细,渐弱;adj.尖细的;v.逐渐变小 | |
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50
graceful
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adj.优美的,优雅的;得体的 | |
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51
brawn
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n.体力 | |
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52
bulging
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膨胀; 凸出(部); 打气; 折皱 | |
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hip
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n.臀部,髋;屋脊 | |
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hips
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abbr.high impact polystyrene 高冲击强度聚苯乙烯,耐冲性聚苯乙烯n.臀部( hip的名词复数 );[建筑学]屋脊;臀围(尺寸);臀部…的 | |
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55
labored
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adj.吃力的,谨慎的v.努力争取(for)( labor的过去式和过去分词 );苦干;详细分析;(指引擎)缓慢而困难地运转 | |
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56
labor
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n.劳动,努力,工作,劳工;分娩;vi.劳动,努力,苦干;vt.详细分析;麻烦 | |
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57
gallows
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n.绞刑架,绞台 | |
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crouched
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v.屈膝,蹲伏( crouch的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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mere
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adj.纯粹的;仅仅,只不过 | |
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60
bent
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n.爱好,癖好;adj.弯的;决心的,一心的 | |
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pistons
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活塞( piston的名词复数 ) | |
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battering
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n.用坏,损坏v.连续猛击( batter的现在分词 ) | |
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ram
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(random access memory)随机存取存储器 | |
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onlookers
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n.旁观者,观看者( onlooker的名词复数 ) | |
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impartially
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adv.公平地,无私地 | |
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impromptu
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adj.即席的,即兴的;adv.即兴的(地),无准备的(地) | |
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67
hustled
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催促(hustle的过去式与过去分词形式) | |
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68
procured
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v.(努力)取得, (设法)获得( procure的过去式和过去分词 );拉皮条 | |
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indifference
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n.不感兴趣,不关心,冷淡,不在乎 | |
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jolt
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v.(使)摇动,(使)震动,(使)颠簸 | |
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jolts
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(使)摇动, (使)震惊( jolt的名词复数 ) | |
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72
glistened
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v.湿物闪耀,闪亮( glisten的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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bruised
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[医]青肿的,瘀紫的 | |
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74
spurts
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短暂而突然的活动或努力( spurt的名词复数 ); 突然奋起 | |
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75
bawled
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v.大叫,大喊( bawl的过去式和过去分词 );放声大哭;大声叫出;叫卖(货物) | |
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shrieking
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v.尖叫( shriek的现在分词 ) | |
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hoarsely
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adv.嘶哑地 | |
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mash
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n.麦芽浆,糊状物,土豆泥;v.把…捣成糊状,挑逗,调情 | |
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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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80
numb
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adj.麻木的,失去感觉的;v.使麻木 | |
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81
deliberately
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adv.审慎地;蓄意地;故意地 | |
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82
bruises
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n.瘀伤,伤痕,擦伤( bruise的名词复数 ) | |
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83
forth
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adv.向前;向外,往外 | |
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hazy
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adj.有薄雾的,朦胧的;不肯定的,模糊的 | |
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85
sagged
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下垂的 | |
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86
hunched
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(常指因寒冷、生病或愁苦)耸肩弓身的,伏首前倾的 | |
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87
backwards
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adv.往回地,向原处,倒,相反,前后倒置地 | |
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curiously
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adv.有求知欲地;好问地;奇特地 | |
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boxer
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n.制箱者,拳击手 | |
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90
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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91
hitched
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(免费)搭乘他人之车( hitch的过去式和过去分词 ); 搭便车; 攀上; 跃上 | |
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92
defiant
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adj.无礼的,挑战的 | |
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broiling
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adj.酷热的,炽热的,似烧的v.(用火)烤(焙、炙等)( broil的现在分词 );使卷入争吵;使混乱;被烤(或炙) | |
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gory
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adj.流血的;残酷的 | |
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