ON that Sunday, ever since eight o’clock, Souvarine had been sitting alone in the parlour of the Avantage, at his accustomed place, with his head against the wall. Not a single collier knew where to get two sous for a drink, and never had the bars had fewer customers. So Madame Rasseneur, motionless at the counter, preserved an irritated silence; while Rasseneur, standing1 before the iron fireplace, seemed to be gazing with a reflective air at the brown smoke from the coal.
Suddenly, in this heavy silence of an over-heated room, three light quick blows struck against one of the windowpanes made Souvarine turn his head. He rose, for he recognized the signal which étienne had already used several times before, in order to call him, when he saw him from without, smoking his cigarette at an empty table. But before the engine-man could reach the door, Rasseneur had opened it, and, recognizing the man who stood there in the light from the window, he said to him:
“Are you afraid that I shall sell you? You can talk better here than on the road.”
étienne entered. Madame Rasseneur politely offered him a glass, which he refused, with a gesture. The innkeeper added:
“I guessed long ago where you hide yourself. If I was a spy, as your friends say, I should have sent the police after you a week ago.”
“There is no need for you to defend yourself,” replied the young man. “I know that you have never eaten that sort of bread. People may have different ideas and esteem2 each other all the same.”
And there was silence once more. Souvarine had gone back to his chair, with his back to the wall and his eyes fixed3 on the smoke from his cigarette, but his feverish4 fingers were moving restlessly, and he ran them over his knees, seeking the warm fur of Poland, who was absent this evening; it was an unconscious discomfort5, something that was lacking, he could not exactly say what.
Seated on the other side of the table, étienne at last said:
“To-morrow work begins again at the Voreux. The Belgians have come with little Négrel.”
“Yes, they landed them at nightfall,” muttered Rasseneur, who remained standing. “As long as they don’t kill each other after all!”
Then raising his voice:
“No, you know, I don’t want to begin our disputes over again, but this will end badly if you hold out any longer. Why, your story is just like that of your International. I met Pluchart the day before yesterday, at Lille, where I went on business. It’s going wrong, that machine of his.”
He gave details. The association, after having conquered the workers of the whole world, in an outburst of propaganda which had left the middle class still shuddering6, was now being devoured8 and slowly destroyed by an internal struggle between vanities and ambitions. Since the anarchists10 had triumphed in it, chasing out the earlier evolutionists, everything was breaking up; the original aim, the reform of the wage-system, was lost in the midst of the squabbling of sects11; the scientific framework was disorganized by the hatred12 of discipline. And already it was possible to foresee the final miscarriage13 of this general revolt which for a moment had threatened to carry away in a breath the old rotten society.
“Pluchart is ill over it,” Rasseneur went on. “And he has no voice at all now. All the same, he talks on in spite of everything and wants to go to Paris. And he told me three times over that our strike was done for.”
étienne with his eyes on the ground let him talk on without interruption. The evening before he had chatted with some mates, and he felt that breaths of spite and suspicion were passing over him, those first breaths of unpopularity which forerun defeat. And he remained gloomy, he would not confess dejection in the presence of a man who had foretold14 to him that the crowd would hoot15 him in his turn on the day when they had to avenge16 themselves for a miscalculation.
“No doubt the strike is done for, I know that as well as Pluchart,” he said. “But we foresaw that. We accepted this strike against our wishes, we didn’t count on finishing up with the Company. Only one gets carried away, one begins to expect things, and when it turns out badly one forgets that one ought to have expected that, instead of lamenting17 and quarrelling as if it were a catastrophe18 tumbled down from heaven.”
“Then if you think the game’s lost,” asked Rasseneur, “why don’t you make the mates listen to reason?”
The young man looked at him fixedly19.
“Listen! enough of this. You have your ideas, I have mine. I came in here to show you that I feel esteem for you in spite of everything. But I still think that if we come to grief over this trouble, our starved carcasses will do more for the people’s cause than all your common-sense politics. Ah! if one of those bloody20 soldiers would just put a bullet in my heart, that would be a fine way of ending!”
His eyes were moist, as in this cry there broke out the secret desire of the vanquished21, the refuge in which he desired to lose his torment22 for ever.
“Well said!” declared Madame Rasseneur, casting on her husband a look which was full of all the contempt of her radical23 opinions.
Souvarine, with a vague gaze, feeling about with his nervous hands, did not appear to hear. His fair girlish face, with the thin nose and small pointed24 teeth, seemed to be growing savage25 in some mystic dream full of bloody visions. And he began to dream aloud, replying to a remark of Rasseneur’s about the International which had been let fall in the course of the conversation.
“They are all cowards; there is only one man who can make their machine into a terrible instrument of destruction. It requires will, and none of them have will; and that’s why the revolution will miscarry once more.”
He went on in a voice of disgust, lamenting the imbecility of men, while the other two were disturbed by these somnambulistic confidences made in the darkness. In Russia there was nothing going on well, and he was in despair over the news he had received. His old companions were all turning to the politicians; the famous Nihilists who made Europe tremble — sons of village priests, of the lower middle class, of tradesmen — could not rise above the idea of national liberation, and seemed to believe that the world would be delivered — when they had killed their despot. As soon as he spoke26 to them of razing27 society to the ground like a ripe harvest — as soon as he even pronounced the infantile word “republic”— he felt that he was misunderstood and a disturber, henceforth unclassed, enrolled29 among the lost leaders of cosmopolitan30 revolution. His patriotic31 heart struggled, however, and it was with painful bitterness that he repeated his favourite expression:
“Foolery! They’ll never get out of it with their foolery.”
Then, lowering his voice still more, in a few bitter words he described his old dream of fraternity. He had renounced33 his rank and his fortune; he had gone among workmen, only in the hope of seeing at last the foundation of a new society of labour in common. All the sous in his pockets had long gone to the urchins34 of the settlement; he had been as tender as a brother with the colliers, smiling at their suspicion, winning them over by his quiet workmanlike ways and his dislike of chattering35. But decidedly the fusion37 had not taken place; he remained a stranger, with his contempt of all bonds, his desire to keep himself free of all petty vanities and enjoyments38. And since this morning he had been especially exasperated39 by reading an incident in the newspapers.
His voice changed, his eyes grew bright, he fixed them on étienne, directly addressing him:
“Now, do you understand that? These hatworkers at Marseilles who have won the great lottery40 prize of a hundred thousand francs have gone off at once and invested it, declaring that they are going to live without doing anything! Yes, that is your idea, all of you French workmen; you want to unearth41 a treasure in order to devour9 it alone afterwards in some lazy, selfish corner. You may cry out as much as you like against the rich, you haven’t got courage enough to give back to the poor the money that luck brings you. You will never be worthy42 of happiness as long as you own anything, and your hatred of the bourgeois43 proceeds solely44 from an angry desire to be bourgeois yourselves in their place.”
Rasseneur burst out laughing. The idea that the two Marseilles workmen ought to renounce32 the big prize seemed to him absurd. But Souvarine grew pale; his face changed and became terrible in one of those religious rages which exterminate45 nations. He cried:
“You will all be mown down, overthrown46, cast on the dung-heap. Someone will be born who will annihilate47 your race of cowards and pleasure-seekers. And look here! you see my hands; if my hands were able they would take up the earth, like that, and shake it until it was smashed to fragments, and you were all buried beneath the rubbish.”
“Well said,” declared Madame Rasseneur, with her polite and convinced air.
There was silence again. Then étienne spoke once more of the Borinage men. He questioned Souvarine concerning the steps that had been taken at the Voreux. But the engine-man was still preoccupied48, and scarcely replied. He only knew that cartridges49 would be distributed to the soldiers who were guarding the pit; and the nervous restlessness of his fingers over his knees increased to such an extent that, at last, he became conscious of what was lacking — the soft and soothing50 fur of the tame rabbit.
“Where is Poland, then?” he asked.
The innkeeper laughed again as he looked at his wife. After an awkward silence he made up his mind:
“Poland? She is in the pot.”
Since her adventure with Jeanlin, the pregnant rabbit, no doubt wounded, had only brought forth28 dead young ones; and to avoid feeding a useless mouth they had resigned themselves that very day to serve her up with potatoes.
“Yes, you ate one of her legs this evening. Eh! You licked your fingers after it!”
Souvarine had not understood at first. Then he became very pale, and his face contracted with nausea51; while, in spite of his stoicism, two large tears were swelling52 beneath his eyelids53.
But no one had time to notice this emotion, for the door had opened roughly and Chaval had appeared, pushing Catherine before him. After having made himself drunk with beer and bluster54 in all the public-houses of Montsou, the idea had occurred to him to go to the Avantage to show his old friends that he was not afraid. As he came in, he said to his mistress:
“By God! I tell you you shall drink a glass in here; I’ll break the jaws57 of the first man who looks askance at me!”
Catherine, moved at the sight of étienne, had become very pale. When Chaval in his turn perceived him, he grinned in his evil fashion.
“Two glasses, Madame Rasseneur! We’re wetting the new start of work.”
Without a word she poured out, as a woman who never refused her beer to any one. There was silence, and neither the landlord nor the two others stirred from their places.
“I know people who’ve said that I was a spy,” Chaval went on swaggeringly, “and I’m waiting for them just to say it again to my face, so that we can have a bit of explanation.”
No one replied, and the men turned their heads and gazed vaguely58 at the walls.
“There are some who sham59, and there are some who don’t sham,” he went on louder. “I’ve nothing to hide. I’ve left Deneulin’s dirty shop, and to-morrow I’m going down to the Voreux with a dozen Belgians, who have been given me to lead because I’m held in esteem; and if any one doesn’t like that, he can just say so, and we’ll talk it over.”
Then, as the same contemptuous silence greeted his provocations60, he turned furiously on Catherine.
“Will you drink, by God? Drink with me to the confusion of all the dirty beasts who refuse to work.”
She drank, but with so trembling a hand that the two glasses struck together with a tinkling61 sound. He had now pulled out of his pocket a handful of silver, which he exhibited with drunken ostentation62, saying that he had earned that with his sweat, and that he defied the shammers to show ten sous. The attitude of his mates exasperated him, and he began to come to direct insults.
“Then it is at night that the moles63 come out? The police have to go to sleep before we meet the brigands64.”
étienne had risen, very calm and resolute65.
“Listen! You annoy me. Yes, you are a spy; your money still stinks66 of some treachery. You’ve sold yourself, and it disgusts me to touch your skin. No matter; I’m your man. It is quite time that one of us did for the other.”
“Come along, then, cowardly dog! I must call you so to warm you up. You all alone — I’m quite willing; and you shall pay for all the bloody tricks that have been played on me.”
With suppliant68 arms Catherine advanced between them. But they had no need to repel69 her; she felt the necessity of the battle, and slowly drew back of her own accord. Standing against the wall, she remained silent, so paralysed with anguish70 that she no longer shivered, her large eyes gazing at these two men who were going to kill each other over her.
Madame Rasseneur simply removed the glasses from the counter for fear that they might be broken. Then she sat down again on the bench, without showing any improper71 curiosity. But two old mates could not be left to murder each other like this. Rasseneur persisted in interfering72, and Souvarine had to take him by the shoulder and lead him back to the table, saying:
“It doesn’t concern you. There is one of them too many, and the strongest must live.”
Without waiting for the attack, Chaval’s fists were already dealing73 blows at space. He was the taller of the two, and his blows swung about aiming at the face, with furious cutting movements of both arms one after the other, as though he were handling a couple of sabres. And he went on talking, playing to the gallery with volleys of abuse, which served to excite him.
“Ah! you damned devil, I’ll have your nose! I’ll do for your bloody nose! Just let me get at your chops, you whores’ looking-glass; I’ll make a hash of it for the pigs and then we shall see if the strumpets will run after you!”
In silence, and with clenched teeth, étienne gathered up his small figure, according to the rules of the game, protecting his chest and face by both fists; and he watched and let them fly like springs released, with terrible straight blows.
At first they did each other little damage. The whirling and blustering74 blows of the one, the cool watchfulness75 of the other, prolonged the struggle. A chair was overthrown; their heavy boots crushed the white sand scattered76 on the floor. But at last they were out of breath, their panting respiration77 was heard, while their faces became red and swollen78 as from an interior fire which flamed out from the clear holes of their eyes.
“Played!” yelled Chaval; “trumps on your carcass!”
In fact his fist, working like a flail79, had struck his adversary’s shoulder. étienne restrained a groan80 of pain and the only sound that was heard was the dull bruising81 of the muscles. étienne replied with a straight blow to Chaval’s chest, which would have knocked him out, had he had not saved himself by one of his constant goat-like leaps. The blow, however, caught him on the left flank with such effect that he tottered82, momentarily winded. He became furious on feeling his arm grow limp with pain, and kicked out like a wild beast, aiming at his adversary’s belly83 with his heel.
“Have at your guts84!” he stammered85 in a choked voice. “I’ll pull them out and unwind them for you!”
étienne avoided the blow, so indignant at this infraction86 of the laws of fair fighting that he broke silence.
“Hold your tongue, brute87! And no feet, by God! or I take a chair and bash you with it!”
Then the struggle became serious. Rasseneur was disgusted, and would again have interfered88, but a severe look from his wife held him back: had not two customers a right to settle an affair in the house? He simply placed himself before the fireplace, for fear lest they should tumble over into it. Souvarine, in his quiet way, had rolled a cigarette, but he forgot to light it. Catherine was motionless against the wall; only her hands had unconsciously risen to her waist, and with constant fidgeting movements were twisting and tearing at the stuff of her dress. She was striving as hard as possible not to cry out, and so, perhaps, kill one of them by declaring her preference; but she was, too, so distracted that she did not even know which she preferred.
Chaval, who was bathed in sweat and striking at random89, soon became exhausted90. In spite of his anger, étienne continued to cover himself, parrying nearly all the blows, a few of which grazed him. His ear was split, a finger nail had torn away a piece of his neck, and this so smarted that he swore in his turn as he drove out one of his terrible straight blows. Once more Chaval saved his chest by a leap, but he had lowered himself, and the fist reached his face, smashing his nose and crushing one eye. Immediately a jet of blood came from his nostrils91, and his eye became swollen and bluish. Blinded by this red flood, and dazed by the shock to his skull92, the wretch93 was beating the air with his arms at random, when another blow, striking him at last full in the chest, finished him. There was a crunching94 sound; he fell on his back with a heavy thud, as when a sack of plaster is emptied.
étienne waited.
“Get up! if you want some more, we’ll begin again.” Without replying, Chaval, after a few minutes’ stupefaction, moved on the ground and stretched his limbs. He picked himself up with difficulty, resting for a moment curled up on his knees, doing something with his hand in the bottom of his pocket which could not be observed. Then, when he was up, he rushed forward again, his throat swelling with a savage yell.
But Catherine had seen; and in spite of herself a loud cry came from her heart, astonishing her like the avowal95 of a preference she had herself been ignorant of:
“Take care! he’s got his knife!”
étienne had only time to parry the first blow with his arm. His woollen jacket was cut by the thick blade, one of those blades fastened by a copper96 ferrule into a boxwood handle. He had already seized Chaval’s wrist, and a terrible struggle began; for he felt that he would be lost if he let go, while the other shook his arm in the effort to free it and strike. The weapon was gradually lowered as their stiffened97 limbs grew fatigued98. étienne twice felt the cold sensation of the steel against his skin; and he had to make a supreme99 effort, so crushing the other’s wrist that the knife slipped from his hand. Both of them had fallen to the earth, and it was étienne who snatched it up, brandishing100 it in his turn. He held Chaval down beneath his knee and threatened to slit101 his throat open.
“Ah, traitor102! by God! you’ve got it coming to you now!”
He felt an awful voice within, deafening103 him. It arose from his bowels104 and was beating in his head like a hammer, a sudden mania105 of murder, a need to taste blood. Never before had the crisis so shaken him. He was not drunk, however, and he struggled against the hereditary106 disease with the despairing shudder7 of a man who is mad with lust55 and struggles on the verge107 of rape108. At last he conquered himself; he threw the knife behind him, stammering109 in a hoarse110 voice:
“Get up — off you go!”
This time Rasseneur had rushed forward, but without quite daring to venture between them, for fear of catching111 a nasty blow. He did not want any one to be murdered in his house, and was so angry that his wife, sitting erect112 at the counter, remarked to him that he always cried out too soon. Souvarine. who had nearly caught the knife in his legs, decided36 to light his cigarette. Was it, then, all over? Catherine was looking on stupidly at the two men, who were unexpectedly both living.
“Off you go!” repeated étienne. “Off you go, or I’ll do for you!”
Chaval arose, and with the back of his hand wiped away the blood which continued to flow from his nose; with jaw56 smeared113 red and bruised114 eye, he went away trailing his feet, furious at his defeat. Catherine mechanically followed him. Then he turned round, and his hatred broke out in a flood of filth115.
“No, no! since you want him, sleep with him, dirty jade116! and don’t put your bloody feet in my place again if you value your skin!”
He violently banged the door. There was deep silence in the warm room, the low crackling of the coal was alone heard. On the ground there only remained the overturned chair and a rain of blood which the sand on the floor was drinking up.
收听单词发音 |
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standing
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| n.持续，地位；adj.永久的，不动的，直立的，不流动的 | |
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esteem
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| n.尊敬，尊重；vt.尊重，敬重；把…看作 | |
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fixed
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| adj.固定的，不变的，准备好的；(计算机)固定的 | |
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feverish
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| adj.发烧的，狂热的，兴奋的 | |
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discomfort
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| n.不舒服，不安，难过，困难，不方便 | |
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shuddering
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| v.战栗( shudder的现在分词 )；发抖；（机器、车辆等）突然震动；颤动 | |
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shudder
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| v.战粟，震动，剧烈地摇晃；n.战粟，抖动 | |
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devoured
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| 吞没( devour的过去式和过去分词 )； 耗尽； 津津有味地看； 狼吞虎咽地吃光 | |
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devour
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| v.吞没；贪婪地注视或谛听，贪读；使着迷 | |
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anarchists
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| 无政府主义者( anarchist的名词复数 ) | |
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sects
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| n.宗派，教派( sect的名词复数 ) | |
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hatred
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| n.憎恶，憎恨，仇恨 | |
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miscarriage
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| n.失败，未达到预期的结果；流产 | |
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foretold
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| v.预言，预示( foretell的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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hoot
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| n.鸟叫声，汽车的喇叭声； v.使汽车鸣喇叭 | |
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avenge
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| v.为...复仇，为...报仇 | |
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lamenting
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| adj.悲伤的，悲哀的v.（为…）哀悼，痛哭，悲伤( lament的现在分词 ) | |
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catastrophe
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| n.大灾难，大祸 | |
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fixedly
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| adv.固定地；不屈地，坚定不移地 | |
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bloody
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| adj.非常的的；流血的；残忍的；adv.很；vt.血染 | |
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vanquished
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| v.征服( vanquish的过去式和过去分词 )；战胜；克服；抑制 | |
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torment
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| n.折磨；令人痛苦的东西(人)；vt.折磨；纠缠 | |
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radical
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| n.激进份子，原子团，根号；adj.根本的，激进的，彻底的 | |
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pointed
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| adj.尖的，直截了当的 | |
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savage
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| adj.野蛮的；凶恶的，残暴的；n.未开化的人 | |
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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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razing
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| v.彻底摧毁，将…夷为平地( raze的现在分词 ) | |
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forth
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| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
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enrolled
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| adj.入学登记了的v.[亦作enrol]( enroll的过去式和过去分词 )；登记，招收，使入伍（或入会、入学等），参加，成为成员；记入名册；卷起，包起 | |
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cosmopolitan
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| adj.世界性的，全世界的，四海为家的，全球的 | |
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patriotic
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| adj.爱国的，有爱国心的 | |
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renounce
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| v.放弃；拒绝承认，宣布与…断绝关系 | |
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renounced
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| v.声明放弃( renounce的过去式和过去分词 )；宣布放弃；宣布与…决裂；宣布摒弃 | |
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urchins
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| n.顽童( urchin的名词复数 )；淘气鬼；猬；海胆 | |
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chattering
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| n. （机器振动发出的）咔嗒声，(鸟等)鸣，啁啾 adj. 喋喋不休的，啾啾声的 动词chatter的现在分词形式 | |
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decided
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| adj.决定了的，坚决的；明显的，明确的 | |
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fusion
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| n.溶化；熔解；熔化状态，熔和；熔接 | |
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enjoyments
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| 愉快( enjoyment的名词复数 )； 令人愉快的事物； 享有； 享受 | |
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exasperated
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| adj.恼怒的 | |
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lottery
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| n.抽彩；碰运气的事，难于算计的事 | |
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41
unearth
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| v.发掘，掘出，从洞中赶出 | |
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42
worthy
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| adj.(of)值得的，配得上的；有价值的 | |
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43
bourgeois
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| adj./n.追求物质享受的(人)；中产阶级分子 | |
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solely
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| adv.仅仅，唯一地 | |
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exterminate
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| v.扑灭，消灭，根绝 | |
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46
overthrown
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| adj. 打翻的，推倒的，倾覆的 动词overthrow的过去分词 | |
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47
annihilate
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| v.使无效；毁灭；取消 | |
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48
preoccupied
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| adj.全神贯注的，入神的；被抢先占有的；心事重重的v.占据（某人）思想，使对…全神贯注，使专心于( preoccupy的过去式) | |
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49
cartridges
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| 子弹( cartridge的名词复数 )； （打印机的）墨盒； 录音带盒； （唱机的）唱头 | |
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50
soothing
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| adj.慰藉的；使人宽心的；镇静的 | |
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51
nausea
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| n.作呕，恶心；极端的憎恶(或厌恶) | |
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52
swelling
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| n.肿胀 | |
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53
eyelids
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| n.眼睑( eyelid的名词复数 )；眼睛也不眨一下；不露声色；面不改色 | |
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54
bluster
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| v.猛刮；怒冲冲的说；n.吓唬，怒号；狂风声 | |
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55
lust
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| n.性(淫)欲；渴(欲)望；vi.对…有强烈的欲望 | |
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56
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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57
jaws
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| n.口部；嘴 | |
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58
vaguely
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| adv.含糊地，暖昧地 | |
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59
sham
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| n./adj.假冒(的)，虚伪(的) | |
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60
provocations
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| n.挑衅( provocation的名词复数 )；激怒；刺激；愤怒的原因 | |
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61
tinkling
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| n.丁当作响声 | |
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62
ostentation
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| n.夸耀，卖弄 | |
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63
moles
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| 防波堤( mole的名词复数 )； 鼹鼠； 痣； 间谍 | |
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64
brigands
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| n.土匪，强盗( brigand的名词复数 ) | |
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65
resolute
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| adj.坚决的，果敢的 | |
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66
stinks
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| v.散发出恶臭( stink的第三人称单数 )；发臭味；名声臭；糟透 | |
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67
clenched
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| v.紧握，抓紧，咬紧( clench的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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68
suppliant
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| adj.哀恳的；n.恳求者，哀求者 | |
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69
repel
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| v.击退，抵制，拒绝，排斥 | |
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70
anguish
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| n.(尤指心灵上的)极度痛苦，烦恼 | |
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71
improper
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| adj.不适当的，不合适的，不正确的，不合礼仪的 | |
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72
interfering
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| adj. 妨碍的 动词interfere的现在分词 | |
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73
dealing
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| n.经商方法，待人态度 | |
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74
blustering
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| adj.狂风大作的，狂暴的v.外强中干的威吓( bluster的现在分词 )；咆哮；（风）呼啸；狂吹 | |
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75
watchfulness
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| 警惕，留心； 警觉（性） | |
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76
scattered
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| adj.分散的，稀疏的；散步的；疏疏落落的 | |
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respiration
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| n.呼吸作用；一次呼吸；植物光合作用 | |
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swollen
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| adj.肿大的，水涨的；v.使变大，肿胀 | |
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79
flail
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| v.用连枷打；击打；n.连枷（脱粒用的工具） | |
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80
groan
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| vi./n.呻吟，抱怨；(发出)呻吟般的声音 | |
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81
bruising
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| adj.殊死的；十分激烈的v.擦伤(bruise的现在分词形式) | |
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82
tottered
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| v.走得或动得不稳( totter的过去式和过去分词 )；踉跄；蹒跚；摇摇欲坠 | |
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83
belly
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| n.肚子，腹部；(像肚子一样)鼓起的部分，膛 | |
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84
guts
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| v.狼吞虎咽，贪婪地吃，飞碟游戏（比赛双方每组5人，相距15码，互相掷接飞碟）；毁坏（建筑物等）的内部( gut的第三人称单数 )；取出…的内脏n.勇气( gut的名词复数 )；内脏；消化道的下段；肠 | |
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85
stammered
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| v.结巴地说出( stammer的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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86
infraction
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| n.违反；违法 | |
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87
brute
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| n.野兽，兽性 | |
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88
interfered
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| v.干预( interfere的过去式和过去分词 )；调停；妨碍；干涉 | |
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89
random
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| adj.随机的；任意的；n.偶然的(或随便的)行动 | |
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90
exhausted
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| adj.极其疲惫的，精疲力尽的 | |
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91
nostrils
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| 鼻孔( nostril的名词复数 ) | |
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92
skull
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| n.头骨；颅骨 | |
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93
wretch
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| n.可怜的人，不幸的人；卑鄙的人 | |
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94
crunching
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| v.嘎吱嘎吱地咬嚼( crunch的现在分词 )；嘎吱作响；（快速大量地）处理信息；数字捣弄 | |
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95
avowal
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| n.公开宣称，坦白承认 | |
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96
copper
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| n.铜；铜币；铜器；adj.铜(制)的；(紫)铜色的 | |
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97
stiffened
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| 加强的 | |
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98
fatigued
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| adj. 疲乏的 | |
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99
supreme
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| adj.极度的，最重要的；至高的，最高的 | |
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100
brandishing
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| v.挥舞( brandish的现在分词 )；炫耀 | |
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101
slit
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| n.狭长的切口；裂缝；vt.切开，撕裂 | |
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102
traitor
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| n.叛徒，卖国贼 | |
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103
deafening
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| adj. 振耳欲聋的, 极喧闹的 动词deafen的现在分词形式 | |
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104
bowels
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| n.肠，内脏，内部；肠( bowel的名词复数 )；内部，最深处 | |
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105
mania
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| n.疯狂；躁狂症，狂热，癖好 | |
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106
hereditary
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| adj.遗传的，遗传性的，可继承的，世袭的 | |
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107
verge
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| n.边，边缘；v.接近，濒临 | |
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108
rape
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| n.抢夺，掠夺，强奸；vt.掠夺，抢夺，强奸 | |
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109
stammering
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| v.结巴地说出( stammer的现在分词 ) | |
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110
hoarse
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| adj.嘶哑的，沙哑的 | |
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111
catching
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| adj.易传染的，有魅力的，迷人的，接住 | |
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112
erect
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| n./v.树立，建立，使竖立；adj.直立的，垂直的 | |
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113
smeared
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| 弄脏； 玷污； 涂抹； 擦上 | |
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114
bruised
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| [医]青肿的，瘀紫的 | |
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115
filth
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| n.肮脏，污物，污秽；淫猥 | |
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116
jade
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| n.玉石；碧玉；翡翠 | |
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