Right then and there in her mind she had christened it Agnes, the only name she knew elegant enough for such apeerless creature. Yet over the en-3 suing months her yearning9 after Agnes contained nothing of hope; Meggiedidn't own a doll and had no idea little girls and dolls belonged together. She played happily with the whistlesand slingshots and battered11 soldiers her brothers discarded, got her hands dirty and her boots muddy. It neveroccurred to her that Agnes was to play with. Stroking the bright pink folds of the dress, grander than any she hadever seen on a human woman, she picked Agnes up tenderly. The doll had jointed13 arms and legs which could bemoved anywhere; even her neck and tiny, shapely waist were jointed. Her golden hair was exquisitely14 dressed ina high pompadour studded with pearls, her pale bosom16 peeped out of a foaming17 fichu of cream lace fastened witha pearl pin. The finely painted bone china face was beautiful, left unglazed to give the delicately tinted19 skin anatural matte texture20. Astonishingly lifelike blue eyes shone between lashes21 of real hair, their irises22 streaked23 andcircled with a darker blue; fascinated, Meggie discovered that when Agnes lay back far enough, her eyes closed.
High on one faintly flushed cheek she had a black beauty mark, and her dusky mouth was parted slightly to showtiny white teeth. Meggie put the doll gently on her lap, crossed her feet under her comfortably, and sat justlooking. She was still sitting behind the gorse bush when Jack25 and Hughie came rustling26 through the grass whereit was too close to the fence to feel a scythe27. Her hair was the typical Cleary beacon28, all the Cleary children saveFrank being martyred by a thatch29 some shade of red; Jack nudged his brother and pointed30 gleefully. Theyseparated, grinning at each other, and pretended they were troopers after a Maori renegade. Meggie would nothave heard them anyway, so engrossed32 was she in Agnes, humming softly to herself. "What's that you've got,Meggie?" Jack shouted, pouncing33. "Show us!" "Yes, show us!" Hughie giggled34, outflanking her.
She clasped the doll against her chest and shook her head. "No, she's mine! I got her for my birthday!""Show us, go on! We just want to have a look."Pride and joy won out. She held the doll so her brothers could see. "Look, isn't she beautiful? Her name isAgnes.""Agnes? Agnes?" Jack gagged realistically. "What a soppy name! Why don't you call her Margaret or Betty?""Because she's Agnes!"Hughie noticed the joint12 in the doll's wrist, and whistled. "Hey, Jack, look! It can move its hand!""Where? Let's see.""No!" Meggie hugged the doll close again, tears forming. "No, you'll break her! Oh, Jack, don't take her awayyou'llbreak her!" "Pooh!" His dirty brown hands locked about her wrists, closing tightly. "Want a Chinese burn?
And don't be such a crybaby, or I'll tell Bob." He squeezed her skin in opposite directions until it stretchedwhitely, as Hughie got hold of the doll's skirts and pulled. "Gimme, or I'll do it really hard!""No! Don't, Jack, please don't! You'll break her, I know you will! Oh, please leave her alone! Don't take her,please!" In spite of the cruel grip on her wrists she clung to the doll, sobbing37 and kicking. "Got it" Hughiewhooped, as the doll slid under Meggie's crossed forearms. Jack and Hughie found her just as fascinating asMeggie had; off came the dress, the petticoats and long, frilly drawers. Agnes lay naked while the boys pushedand pulled at her, forcing one foot round the back of her head, making her look down her spine40, every possiblecontortion they could think of. They took no notice of Meggie as she stood crying; it did not occur to her to seekhelp, for in the Cleary family those who could not fight their own battles got scant42 aid or sympathy, and thatwent for girls, too.
The doll's golden hair tumbled down, the pearls flew winking43 into the long grass and disappeared. A dusty bootcame down thoughtlessly on the abandoned dress, smearing44 grease from the smithy across its satin. Meggiedropped to her knees, scrabbling frantically45 to collect the miniature clothes before more damage was done them,then she began picking among the grass blades where she thought the pearls might have fallen. Her tears wereblinding her, the grief in her heart new, for until now she had never owned anything worth grieving for.
Frank threw the shoe hissing47 into cold water and straightened his back; it didn't ache these days, so perhaps hewas used to smithying. Not before time, his father would have said, after six months at it. But Frank knew verywell how long it was since his introduction to the forge and anvil49; he had measured the time in hatred50 andresentment. Throwing the hammer into its box, he pushed the lank35 black hair off his brow with a trembling handand dragged the old leather apron52 from around his neck. His shirt lay on a heap of straw in the corner; he ploddedacross to it and stood for a moment staring at the splintering barn wall as if it did not exist, his black eyes wideand fixed54. He was very small, not above five feet three inches, and thin still as striplings are, but the bareshoulders and arms had muscles already knotted from working with the hammer, and the pale, flawless skingleamed with sweat. The darkness of his hair and eyes had a foreign tang, his full-lipped mouth and wide-bridged nose not the usual family shape, but there was Maori blood on his mother's side and in him it showed. Hewas nearly sixteen years old, where Bob was barely eleven, Jack ten, Hughie nine, Stuart five and little Meggiethree. Then he remembered that today Meggie was four; it was December 8th. He put on his shirt and left thebarn.
The house lay on top of a small hill about one hundred feet higher than the barn and stables. Like all NewZealand houses, it was wooden, rambling55 over many squares and of one story only, on the theory that if anearthquake struck, some of it might be left standing56. Around it gorse grew everywhere, at the moment smotheredin rich yellow flowers; the grass was green and luxuriant, like all New Zealand grass. Not even in the middle ofwinter, when the frost sometimes lay unmelted all day in the shade, did the grass turn brown, and the long, mildsummer only tinted it an even richer green. The rains fell gently without bruising57 the tender sweetness of allgrowing things, there was no snow, and the sun had just enough strength to cherish, never enough to sap. NewZealand's scourges58 thundered up out of the bowels59 of the earth rather than descended60 from the skies. There wasalways a suffocated61 sense of waiting, an intangible shuddering62 and thumping64 that actually transmitted itselfthrough the feet. For beneath the ground lay awesome65 power, power of such magnitude that thirty years before awhole towering mountain had disappeared; steam gushed66 howling out of cracks in the sides of innocent hills,volcanoes spurned67 smoke into the sky and the alpine68 streams ran warm. Huge lakes of mud boiled oilily, the seaslapped uncertainly at cliffs which might not be there to greet the next incoming tide, and in places the earth'scrust was only nine hundred feet thick. Yet it was a gentle, gracious land. Beyond the house stretched anundulating plain as green as the emerald in Fiona Cleary's engagement ring, dotted with thousands of creamybundles close proximity70 revealed as sheep. Where the curving hills scalloped the edge of the lightblue sky MountEgmont soared ten thousand feet, sloping into the clouds, its sides still white with snow, its symmetry so perfectthat even those like Frank who saw it every day of their lives never ceased to marvel71.
It was quite a pull from the barn to the house, but Frank hurried because he knew he ought not to be going; hisfather's orders were explicit72. Then as he rounded the corner of the house he saw the little group by the gorsebush.
Frank had driven his mother into Wahine to buy Meggie's doll, and he was still wondering what had promptedher to do it. She wasn't given to impractical73 birthday presents, there wasn't the money for them, and she hadnever given a toy to anyone before. They all got clothes; birthdays and Christmases replenished74 sparsewardrobes. But apparently75 Meggie had seen the doll on her one and only trip into town, and Fiona had notforgotten. When Frank questioned her, she muttered something about a girl needing a doll, and quickly changedthe subject.
Jack and Hughie had the doll between them on the front path, manipulating its joints76 callously77. All Frank couldsee of Meggie was her back, as she stood watching her brothers desecrate78 Agnes. Her neat white socks hadslipped in crinkled folds around her little black boots, and the pink of her legs was visible for three or four inchesbelow the hem31 of her brown velvet79 Sunday dress. Down her back cascaded80 a mane of carefully curled hair,sparkling in the sun; not red and not gold, but somewhere in between. The white taffeta bow which held the frontcurls back from her face hung draggled and limp; dust smeared81 her dress. She held the doll's clothes tightly inone hand, the other pushing vainly at Hughie.
"You bloody82 little bastards83!"Jack and Hughie scrambled84 to their feet and ran, the doll forgotten; when Frank swore it was politic85 to run.
"If I catch you flaming little twerps touching86 that doll again I'll brand your shitty little arses!" Frank yelled afterthem. He bent87 down and took Meggie's shoulders between his hands, shaking her gently.
"Here, here there's no need to cry! Come on now, they've gone and they'll never touch your dolly again, Ipromise. Give me a smile for your birthday, eh?"Her face was swollen88, her eyes running; she stared at Frank out of grey eyes so large and full of tragedy that hefelt his throat tighten89. Pulling a dirty rag from his breeches pocket, he rubbed it clumsily over her face, thenpinched her nose between its folds.
"Blow!"She did as she was told, hiccuping90 noisily as her tears dried. "Oh, Fruh-Fruh-Frank, they too-too-took Agnesaway from me!" She sniffled. "Her huh-huh-hair all failed down and she loh-loh-lost all the pretty widdle puhpuh-pearls in it! They all failed in the gruh-gruhgrass and I can't end them!"The tears welled up again, splashing on Frank's hand; he stared at his wet skin for a moment, then licked thedrops off.
"Well, we'll have to find them, won't we? But you can't find anything while you're crying, you know, and what'sall this baby talk? I haven't heard you say "widdle" instead of "little' for six months! Here, blow your nose againand then pick up poor . . . Agnes? If you don't put her clothes on, she'll get sunburned."He made her sit on the edge of the path and gave her the doll gently, then he crawled about searching the grassuntil he gave a triumphant91 whoop38 and held up a pearl.
"There! First one! We'll find them all, you wait and see."Meggie watched her oldest brother adoringly while he picked among the grass blades, holding up each pearl ashe found it; then she remembered how delicate Agnes's skin must be, how easily it must Burn, and bent herattention on clothing the doll. There did not seem any real injury. Her hair was tangled92 and loose, her arms andlegs dirty where the boys had pushed and pulled at them, but everything still worked. A tortoiseshell combnestled above each of Meggie's ears; she tugged at one until it came free, and began to comb Agnes's hair, whichwas genuine human hair, skillfully knotted onto a base of glue and gauze, and bleached94 until it was the color ofgilded straw. She was yanking inexpertly at a large knot when the dreadful thing happened. Off came the hair, allof it, dangling95 in a tousled clump96 from the teeth of the comb. Above Agnes's smooth broad brow there wasnothing; no head, no bald skull97. Just an awful, yawning hole. Shivering in terror, Meggie leaned forward to peerinside the doll's cranium. The inverted99 contours of cheeks and chin showed dimly, light glittered between theparted lips with their teeth a black, animal silhouette100, and above all this were Agnes's eyes, two horrible clickingballs speared by a wire rod that cruelly pierced her head.
Meggie's scream was high and thin, unchildlike; she flung Agnes away and went on screaming, hands coveringher face, shaking and shuddering. Then she felt Frank pull at her fingers and take her into his arms, pushing herface into the side of his neck. Wrapping her arms about him, she took comfort from him until his nearnesscalmed her enough to become aware of how nice he smelled, all horses and sweat and iron.
When she quietened, Frank made her tell him what was the matter; he picked up the doll and stared into itsempty head in wonder, trying to remember if his infant universe had been so beset101 by strange terrors. But hisunpleasant phantoms102 were of people and whispers and cold glances. Of his mother's face pinched and shrinking,her hand trembling as it held his, the set of her shoulders.
What had Meggie seen, to make her take on so? He fancied she would not have been nearly so upset if poorAgnes had only bled when she lost her hair. Bleeding was a fact; someone in the Cleary family bled copiously103 atleast once a week.
"Her eyes, her eyed" Meggie whispered, refusing to look at the doll.
"She's a bloody marvel, Meggie," he murmured, his face nuzzling into her hair. How fine it was, how rich andfull of color! It took him half an hour of cajoling to make her look at Agnes, and half an hour more elapsedbefore he could persuade her to peer into the scalped hole. He showed her how the eyes worked, how verycarefully they had been aligned104 to fit snugly105 yet swing easily opened or closed. "Come on now, it's time youwent inside," he told her, swinging her up into his arms and tucking the doll between his chest and hers. "We'llget Mum to fix her up, eh? We'll wash and iron her clothes, and glue on her hair again. I'll make you some properhairpins out of those pearls, too, so they can't fall out and you can do her hair in all sorts of ways."Fiona Cleary was in the kitchen, peeling potatoes. She was a very handsome, very fair woman a little undermedium height, but rather hard-faced and stern; she had an excellent figure with a tiny waist which had notthickened, in spite of the six babies she had carried beneath it. Her dress was grey calico, its skirts brushing thespotless floor, its front protected by an enormous starched106 white apron that looped around her neck and tied inthe small of her spine with a crisp, perfect bow. From waking to sleeping she lived in the kitchen and backgarden, her stout107 black boots beating a circular path from stove to laundry to vegetable patch to clotheslines andthence to the stove again.
She put her knife on the table and stared at Frank and Meggie, the corners of her beautiful mouth turning down.
"Meggie, I let you put on your Sunday-best dress this morning on one condition, that you didn't get it dirty. Andlook at you! What a little grub you are!""Mum, it wasn't her fault," Frank protested. "Jack and Hughie took her dollaway to try and find out how the arms and legs worked. I promised we'd fix it up as good as new. We can, can'twe?""Let me see." Fee held out her hand for the doll. She was a silent woman, not given to spontaneousconversation. What she thought, no one ever knew, even her husband; she left the disciplining of the children tohim, and did whatever he commanded without comment or complaint unless the circumstances were mostunusual. Meggie had heard the boys whispering that she stood in as much awe39 of Daddy as they did, but if thatwas true she hid it under a veneer109 of impenetrable, slightly dour15 calm. She never laughed, nor did she ever loseher temper. Finished her inspection110, Fee laid Agnes on the dresser near the stove and looked at Meggie.
"I'll wash her clothes tomorrow morning, and do her hair again. Frank can glue the hair on after tea tonight, Isuppose, and give her a bath." The words were matter-of-fact rather than comforting. Meggie nodded, smilinguncertainly; sometimes she wanted so badly to hear her mother laugh, but her mother never did. She sensed thatthey shared a special something not common to Daddy and the boys, but there was no reaching beyond that rigidback, those never still feet. Mum would nod absently and flip111 her voluminous skirts expertly from stove to tableas she continued working, working, working.
What none of the children save Frank could realize was that Fee was permanently112, incurably113 tired. There was somuch to be done, hardly any money to do it with, not enough time, and only one pair of hands. She longed forthe day when Meggie would be old enough to help; already the child did simple tasks, but at barely four years ofage it couldn't possibly lighten the load. Six children, and only one of them, the youngest at that, a girl. All heracquaintances were simultaneously116 sympathetic and envious117, but that didn't get the work done. Her sewingbasket had a mountain of socks in it still undarned, her knitting needles held yet another sock, and there wasHughie growing out of his sweaters and Jack not ready to hand his down.
Padraic Cleary was to home the week of Meggie's birthday, purely118 by chance. It was too early for the shearingseason, and he had work locally, plowing120 and planting. By profession he was a sheerer of sheep, a seasonaloccupation which lasted from the middle of summer to the end of winter, after which came lambing. Usually hemanaged to find plenty of work to tide him over spring and the first month of summer; helping121 with lambing,plowing, or spelling a local dairy farmer from his endless twice-a-day milking. Where there was work he went,leaving his family in the big old house to fend122 for themselves; not as harsh an action as it seemed. Unless onewas lucky enough to own land, that was what one had to do.
When he came in a little after sunset the lamps were lit, and shadows played flickering124 games around the highceiling. The boys were clustered on the back veranda125 playing with a frog, except for Frank; Padraic knew wherehe was, because he could hear the steady clocking of an axe126 from the direction of the woodheap. He paused onthe veranda only long enough to plant a kick on Jack's backside and clip Bob's ear.
"Go and help Frank with the wood, you lazy little scamps. And it had better be done before Mum has tea on thetable, or there'll be skin and hair flying."He nodded to Fiona, busy at the stove; he did not kiss or embrace her, for he regarded displays of affectionbetween husband and wife as something suitable only for the bedroom. As he used the jack to haul off his mud-caked boots, Meggie came skipping with his slippers127, and he grinned down at the little girl with the curious senseof wonder he always knew at sight of her. She was so pretty, such beautiful hair; he picked up a curl and pulled itout straight, then let it go, just to see it jiggle and bounce as it settled back into place. Picking the child up, hewent to sit in the only comfortable chair the kitchen possessed128, a Windsor chair with a cushion tied to its seat,drawn129 close to the fire. Sighing softly, he sat down in it and pulled out his pipe, carelessly tapping out the spentdottle of tobacco in its bowl onto the floor. Meggie cuddled down on his lap and wound her arms about his neck,her cool little face turned up to his as she played her nightly game of watching the light filter through his shortstubble of golden beard.
"How are you, Fee?" Padraic Cleary asked his wife. "All right, Paddy. Did you get the lower paddock donetoday?" "Yes, all done. I can start on the upper first thing in the morning. Lord, but I'm tired!""I'll bet. Did MacPherson give you the crotchety old mare130 again?" "Too right. You don't think he'd take theanimal himself to let me have the roan, do you? My arms feel as if they've been pulled out of their sockets131. Iswear that mare has the hardest mouth in En Zed.""Never mind. Old Robertson's horses are all good, and you'll be there soon enough.""Can't be soon enough." He packed his pipe with coarse tobacco and pulled a taper132 from the big jar that stoodnear the stove. A quick flick123 inside the firebox door and it caught; he leaned back in his chair and sucked sodeeply the pipe made bubbling noises. "How's it feel to be four, Meggie?" he asked his daughter.
"Pretty good, Daddy.""Did Mum give you your present?""Oh, Daddy, how did you and Mum guess I wanted Agnes?" "Agnes?" He looked swiftly toward Fee, smilingand quizzing her with his eyebrows133. "Is that her name, Agnes?""Yes. She's beautiful, Daddy. I want to look at her all day." "She's lucky to have anything to look at," Fee saidgrimly. "Jack and Hughie got hold of the doll before poor Meggie had a chance to see it properly.""Well, boys will be boys. Is the damage bad?" "Nothing that can't be mended. Frank caught them before it wenttoo far." "Frank? What was he doing down here? He was supposed to be at the forgeall day. Hunter wants his gates.""He was at the forge all day. He just came down for a tool of some sort," Fee answered quickly; Padraic was toohard on Frank. "Oh, Daddy, Frank is the best brother! He saved my Agnes from being killed, and he's going toglue her hair on again for me after tea.""That's good," her father said drowsily134, leaning his head back in the chair and closing his eyes.
It was hot in front of the stove, but he didn't seem to notice; beads135 of sweat gathered on his forehead, glistening136.
He put his arms behind his head and fell into a doze138.
It was from Padraic Cleary that his children got their various shades of thick, waving red hair, though none hadinherited quite such an aggressively red head as his. He was a small man, all steel and springs in build, legsbowed from a lifetime among horses, arms elongated139 from years shearing119 sheep; his chest and arms werecovered in a matted golden fuzz which would have been ugly had he been dark. His eyes were bright blue,crinkled up into a permanent squint140 like a sailor's from gazing into the far distance, and his face was a pleasantone, with a whimsical smiling quality about it that made other men like him at a glance. His nose wasmagnificent, a true Roman nose which must have puzzled his Irish confreres, but Ireland has ever been ashipwreck coast. He still spoke141 with the soft quick slur142 of the Gal-15 way Irish, pronouncing his final t's asthis's, but almost twenty years in the Antipodes had forced a quaint115 overlay upon it, so that his a's came out as i'sand the speed of his speech had run down a little, like an old clock in need of a good winding143. A happy man, hehad managed to weather his hard and drudging existence better than most, and though he was a rigiddisciplinarian with a heavy swing to his boot, all but one of his children adored him. If there was not enoughbread to go around, he went without; if it was a choice between new clothes for him or new clothes for one of hisoffspring, he went without. In its way, that was more reliable evidence of love than a million easy kisses. Histemper was very fiery144, and he had killed a man once. Luck had been with him; the man was english, and therewas a ship in Dun Laoghaire harbor bound for New Zealand on the tide.
Fiona went to the back door and shouted, "Tea!" The boys trailed in gradually, Frank bringing up the rear withan armload of wood, which he dumped in the big box beside the stove. Padraic put Meggie down and walked tothe head of the non-company dining table at the far end of the kitchen, while the boys seated themselves aroundits sides and Meggie scrambled up on top of the wooden box her father put on the chair nearest to him.
Fee served the food directly onto dinner plates at her worktable, more quickly and efficiently145 than a waiter; shecarried them two at a time to her family, Paddy first, then Frank, and so on down to Meggie, with herself last.
"Erckle! Stew146!" said Stuart, pulling faces as he picked up his knife and fork. "Why did you have to name meafter stew?" "Eat it," his father growled147.
The plates were big ones, and they were literally148 heaped with food: boiled potatoes, lamb stew and beans cutthat day from the garden, ladled in huge portions. 16In spite of the muted groans149 and sounds of disgust, everyone including Stu polished his plate clean with bread,and ate several slices more spread thickly with butter and native gooseberry jam. Fee sat down and bolted hermeal, then got up at once to hurry to her worktable again, where into big soup plates she doled151 out greatquantities of biscuit made with plenty of sugar and laced all through with jam. A river of steaming hot custardsauce was poured over each, and again she plodded53 to the dining table with the plates, two at a time. Finally shesat down with a sigh; this she could eat at her leisure.
"Oh, goodie! Jam roly-poly!" Meggie exclaimed, slopping her spoon up and down in the custard until the jamseeped through to make pink streaks152 in the yellow.
"Well, Meggie girl, it's your birthday, so Mum made your favorite pudding," her father said, smiling.
There were no complaints this time; no matter what the pudding was, it was consumed with gusto. The Clearysall had a sweet tooth. No one carried a pound of superfluous153 flesh, in spite of the vast quantities of starchy food.
They expended154 every ounce they ate in work or play. Vegetables and fruit were eaten because they were good foryou, but it was the bread, potatoes, meat and hot floury puddings which staved off exhaustion155.
After Fee had poured everyone a cup of tea from her giant pot, they stayed talking, drinking or reading for anhour or more, Paddy puffing156 on his pipe with his head in a library book, Fee continuously refilling cups, Bobimmersed in another library book, while the younger children made plans for the morrow. School had dispersedfor the long summer vacation; the boys were on the loose and eager to commence their allotted157 chores around thehouse and garden. Bob had to touch up the exterior158 paintwork where it was necessary, Jack and Hughie dealtwith the woodheap, outbuildings and milking, Stuart tended the vegetables; play compared to the horrors ofschool. From time to time Paddy lifted his head from his book to add another job to the list, but Fee said nothing,and Frank sat slumped159 tiredly, sipping160 cup after cup of tea.
Finally Fee beckoned161 Meggie to sit on a high stool, and did up her hair in its nightly rags before packing her offto bed with Stu and Hughie; Jack and Bob begged to be excused and went outside to feed the dogs; Frank tookMeggie's doll to the worktable and began to glue its hair on again. Stretching, Padraic closed his book and put hispipe into the huge iridescent162 paua shell which served him as an ashtray163.
"Well, Mother, I'm off to bed.""Good night, Paddy."Fee cleared the dishes off the dining table and got a big galvanized iron tub down from its hook on the wall. Sheput it at the opposite end of the worktable from Frank, and lifting the massive cast-iron kettle off the stove, filledit with hot water. Cold water from an old kerosene164 tin served to cool the steaming bath; swishing soap confinedin a wire basket through it, she began to wash and rinse165 the dishes, stacking them against a cup. Frank worked onthe doll without raising his head, but as the pile of plates grew he got up silently to fetch a towel and began to drythem. Moving between the worktable and the dresser, he worked with the ease of long familiarity. It was afurtive, fearful game he and his mother played, for the most stringent166 rule in Paddy's domain167 concerned theproper delegation168 of duties. The house was woman's work, and that was that. No male member of the family wasto put his hand to a female task. But each night after Paddy went to bed Frank helped his mother, Fee aiding andabetting him by delaying her dishwashing until they heard the thump63 of Paddy's slippers hitting the floor. OncePaddy's slippers were off he never came back to the kitchen. Fee looked at Frank gently. "I don't know what I'd18 do without you, Frank. But you shouldn't. You'll be so tired in the morning.""It's all right, Mum. Drying a few dishes won't kill me. Little enough to make life easier for you.""It's my job, Frank. I don't mind.""I just wish we'd get rich one of these days, so you could have a maid." "That is wishful thinking!" She wipedher soapy red hands on the dishcloth and then pressed them into her sides, sighing. Her eyes as they rested on herson were vaguely169 worried, sensing his bitter discontent, more than the normal railing of a workingman againsthis lot. "Frank, don't get grand ideas. They only lead to trouble. We're working-class people, which means wedon't get rich or have maids. Be content with what you are and what you have. When you say things like thisyou're insulting Daddy, and he doesn't deserve it. You know that. He doesn't drink, he doesn't gamble, and heworks awfully170 hard for us. Not a penny he earns goes into his own pocket. It all comes to us." The muscularshoulders hunched171 impatiently, the dark face became harsh and grim. "But why should wanting more out of lifethan drudgery172 be so bad? I don't see what's wrong with wishing you had a maid.""It's wrong because it can't be! You know there's no money to keep you at school, and if you can't stay at schoolhow are you ever going to be anything better than a manual worker? Your accent, your clothes and your handsshow that you labor173 for a living. But it's no disgrace to have calluses on your hands. As Daddy says, when aman's hands are callused you know he's honest." Frank shrugged174 and said no more. The dishes were all put away;Fee got out her sewing basket and sat down in Paddy's chair by the fire, while Frank went back to the doll.
"Poor little Meggie!" he said suddenly.
"Today, when those wretched chaps were pulling her dolly about, she just stood there crying as if her wholeworld had fallen to bits." He looked down at the doll, which was wearing its hair again. "Agnes! Where on earthdid she get a name like that?" "She must have heard me talking about Agnes Fortescue-Smythe, I suppose.""When I gave her the doll back she looked into its head and nearly died of fright. Something scared her about itseyes; I don't know what." "Meggie's always seeing things that aren't there.""It's a pity there isn't enough money to keep the little children at school. They're so clever.""Oh, Frank! If wishes were horses beggars might ride," his mother said wearily. She passed her hand across hereyes, trembling a little, and stuck her darning needle deep into a ball of grey wool. "I can't do any more. I'm tootried to see straight.""Go to bed, Mum. I'll blow out the lamps.""As soon as I've stoked the fire.""I'll do that." He got up from the table and put the dainty china doll carefully down behind a cake tin on thedresser, where it would be out of harm's way. He was not worried that the boys might attempt further rapine;they were more frightened of his vengeance175 than of their father's, for Frank had a vicious streak24. When he waswith his mother or his sister it never appeared, but the boys had all suffered from it.
Fee watched him, her heart aching; there was something wild and desperate about Frank, an aura of trouble. Ifonly he and Paddy got on better together! But they could never see eye to eye, and argued constantly. Maybe hewas too concerned for her, maybe he was a bit of a mother's boy. Her fault, if it was true. Yet it spoke of hisloving heart, his goodness. He only wanted to make her life a little easier. And again she found herself yearningfor the day when Meggie became old enough to take the burden of it from Frank's shoulders.
She picked up a small lamp from the table, then put it down again and walked across to where Frank wassquatted before the stove, packing wood into the big firebox and fiddling176 with the damper. His white arm wasroped with prominent veins177, his finely made hands too stained ever to come clean. Her own hand went outtimidly, and very lightly smoothed the straight black hair out of his eyes; it was as close as she could bringherself to a caress178. "Good night, Frank, and thank you."The shadows wheeled and darted179 before the advancing light as Fee moved silently through the door leading intothe front part of the house. Frank and Bob shared the first bedroom; she pushed its door open noiselessly andheld the lamp high, its light flooding the double bed in the corner. Bob was lying on his back with his mouthsagging open, quivering and twitching180 like a dog; she crossed to the bed and rolled him over onto his right sidebefore he could pass into a full-fledged nightmare, then stayed looking down at him for a moment. How likePaddy he was! Jack and Hughie were almost braided together in the next room. What dreadful scamps they were!
Never out of mischief181, but no malice182 in them. She tried vainly to separate them and restore some sort of order totheir bedclothes, but the two curly red heads refused to be parted. Softly sighing, she gave up. How theymanaged to be refreshed after the kind of night they passed was beyond her, but they seemed to thrive on it. Theroom where Meggie and Stuart slept was a dingy183 and cheerless place for two small children; painted a stuffybrown and floored in brown linoleum184, no-pictures on the walls. Just like the other bedrooms. Stuart had turnedhimself upside down and was quite invisible except for his little nightshirted bottom sticking out of the coverswhere his head ought to have been; Fee found his head touching his knees, and as usual marveled that he had notsuffocated. She slid her hand gingerly across the sheet and stiffened185. Wet again! Well, it would have to wait untilthe morning, when no doubt the pillow would be wet, too. He always did that, reversed himself and then wetonce more. Well, one bed-wetter among five boys wasn't bad.
Meggie was curled into a little heap, with her thumb in her mouth and her rag-decorated hair all around her.
The only girl. Fee cast her no more than a passing glance before leaving; there was no mystery to Meggie, shewas female. Fee knew what her lot would be, and did not envy her or pity her. The boys were different; theywere miracles, males alchemized out of her female body. It was hard not having help around the house, but itwas worth it. Among his peers, Paddy's sons were the greatest character reference he possessed. Let a man breedsons and he was a real man. She closed the door to her own bedroom softly, and put the lamp down on a bureau.
Her nimble fingers flew down the dozens of tiny buttons between the high collar and the hips186 of her dress, thenpeeled it away from her arms. She slipped the camisole off her arms also, and holding it very carefully againsther chest, she wriggled187 into a long flannel188 nightgown. Only then, decently covered, did she divest189 herself ofcamisole, drawers and loosely laced stays. Down came the tightly knotted golden hair, all its pins put into a pauashell on the bureau. But even this, beautiful as it was, thick and shining and very straight, was not permittedfreedom; Fee got her elbows up over her head and her hands behind her neck, and began to braid it swiftly. Sheturned then toward the bed, her breathing unconsciously suspended; but Paddy was asleep, so she heaved a gustysigh of relief. Not that it wasn't nice when Paddy was in the mood, for he was a shy, tender, considerate lover.
But until Meggie was two or three years older it would be very hard to have more babies.
When the Clearys went to church on Sundays, Meggie had to stay home with one of the older boys, longing191 forthe day when she, too, would be old enough to go. Padraic Cleary held that small children had no place in anyhouse save their own, and his rule held even for a house of worship. When Meggie commenced school and couldbe trusted to sit still, she could come to church. Not before. So every Sunday morning she stood by the gorsebush at the front gate, desolate192, while the family piled into the old shandrydan and the brother delegated to mindher tried to pretend it was a great treat escaping Mass. The only Cleary who relished193 separation from the rest wasFrank. Paddy's religion was an intrinsic part of his life. When he had married Fee it had been with grudgingCatholic approval, for Fee was a member of the Church of England; though she abandoned her faith for Paddy,she refused to adopt his in its stead. Difficult to say why, except that the Armstrongs were old pioneering stockof impeccable Church of England extraction, where Paddy was a penniless immigrant from the wrong side of thePale. There had been Armstrongs in New Zealand long before the first "official" settlers arrived, and that was apassport to colonial aristocracy. From the Armstrong point of view, Fee could only be said to have contracted ashocking mesalliance.
Roderick Armstrong had founded the New Zealand clan195, in a very curious way. It had begun with an eventwhich was to have many unforeseen repercussions196 on eighteenth-century England: the American War ofIndependence. Until 1776 over a thousand British petty felons197 were shipped each year to Virginia and theCarolinas, sold into an indentured198 servitude no better than slavery. British justice of the time was grim andunflinching; murder, arson199, the mysterious crime of "impersonating Egyptians" and larceny200 to the tune201 of morethan a shilling were punished on the gallows202. Petty crime meant transportation to the Americas for the term ofthe felon's natural life. But when in 1776 the Americas were closed, England found herself with a rapidlyincreasing convict population and nowhere to put it. The prisons filled to overflowing203, and the surplus wasjammed into rotting hulks moored204 in the river estuaries205. Something had to be done, so something was. With agreat deal of reluctance206 because it meant the expenditure207 of a few thousand pounds, Captain Arthur Phillip wasordered to set sail for the Great South Land. The year was 1787. His fleet of eleven ships held over one thousandconvicts, plus sailors, naval208 officers and a contingent209 of marines. No glorious odyssey210 in search of freedom, this.
At the end of January 1788, eight months after setting sail from England, the fleet arrived in Botany Bay. HisMad Majesty211 George the Third had found a new dumping ground for his convicts, the colony of New SouthWales.
In 1801, when he was just twenty years of age, Roderick Armstrong was sentenced to transportation for theterm of his natural life. Later generations of Armstrongs insisted he came of Somerset gentlefolk who had losttheir fortune following the American Revolution, and that his crime was nonexistent, but none of them had evertried very hard to trace their illustrious ancestor's background. They just basked212 in his reflected glory andimprovised somewhat.
Whatever his origins and status in English life, the young Roderick Armstrong was a tartar. All through theunspeakable eight months' voyage to New South Wales he proved a stubborn, difficult prisoner, furtherendearing himself to his ship's officers by refusing to die. When he arrived in Sydney in 1803 his behaviorworsened, so he was shipped to Norfolk Island and the prison for intractables. Nothing improved his conduct.
They starved him; they immured213 him in a cell so small he could neither sit, stand nor lie; they flogged him tojellied pulp214; they chained him to a rock in the sea and let him half-drown. And he laughed at them, a skinnycollection of bones in filthy215 canvas, not a tooth in his mouth or an inch of his skin unscarred, lit from within by afire of bitterness and defiance216 nothing seemed to quench217. At the beginning of each day he willed himself not todie, and at the end of each day he laughed in triumph to find himself still alive. In 1810 he was sent to VanDiemen's Land, put in a chain gang and set to hew48 a road through the ironhard sandstone country behind Hobart.
At first opportunity he had used his pick to hack218 a hole in the chest of the trooper commanding the expedition; heand ten other convicts massacred five more troopers by shaving the flesh from their bones an inch at a time untilthey died screaming in agony. For they and their guards were beasts, elemental creatures whose emotions hadatrophied to the subhuman. Roderick Armstrong could no more have gone off into his escape leaving histormentors intact or quickly dead than he could have reconciled himself to being a convict. With the rum andbread and jerky they took from the troopers, the eleven men fought their way through miles of freezing rainforest and came out at the whaling station of Hobart, where they stole a longboat and set off across the TasmanSea without food, water or 25 sails. When the longboat washed ashore219 on the wild west coast of New Zealand'sSouth Island, Roderick Armstrong and two other men were still alive. He never spoke of that incredible journey,but it was whispered that the three had survived by killing220 and eating their weaker companions. That was justnine years after he had been transported from England. He was yet a young man, but he looked sixty. By the timethe first officially sanctioned settlers arrived in New Zealand in 1840, he had hewn lands for himself in the richCanterbury district of the South Island, "married" a Maori woman and sired a brood of thirteen handsome half-Polynesian children. And by 1860 the Armstrongs were colonial aristocrats221, sent their male offspring toexclusive schools back in England, and amply proved by their cunning and acquisitiveness that they were indeedtrue descendants of a remarkable222, formidable man. Roderick's grandson James had fathered Fiona in 1880, theonly daughter among a total of fifteen children. If Fee missed the more austere223 Protestant rites224 of her childhood,she never said so. She tolerated Paddy's religious convictions and attended Mass with him, saw to it that herchildren worshipped an exclusively Catholic God. But because she had never converted, the little touches weremissing, like grace before meals and prayers before bed, an everyday holiness.
Aside from that one trip into Wahine eighteen months before, Meggie had never been farther from home thanthe barn and smithy in the hollow. On the morning of her first day at school she was so excited she vomited225 herbreakfast, and had to be bundled back into her bedroom to be washed and changed. Off came the lovely newcostume of navy blue with a big white sailor collar, on went her horrid226 brown wincey which buttoned higharound her little neck and always felt as if it were choking her.
"And for heaven's sake, Meggie, next time you feel sick, tell me! Don't just sit there until it's too late and I'vegot a mess to clean up as well as everything else! Now you're going to have to hurry, because if you're late forthe bell Sister Agatha is sure to cane227 you. Behave yourself, and mind your brothers."Bob, Jack, Hughie and Stu were hopping228 up and down by the front gate when Fee finally pushed Meggie outthe door, her luncheon229 jam sandwiches in an old satchel230.
"Come on, Meggie, we'll be late!" Bob shouted, moving off down the road. Meggie followed the dwindlingforms of her brothers at a run. It was a little after seven o'clock in the morning, and the gentle sun had been upseveral hours; the dew had dried off the grass except where there was deep shade. The Wahine road was a wheel-rutted earthen track, two ribbons of dark red separated by a wide band of bright green grass. White calla liliesand orange nasturtiums flowered profusely231 in the high grass to either side, where the neat wooden fences ofbordering properties warned against trespassing232.
Bob always walked to school along the top of the right-hand fences, balancing his leather satchel on his headinstead of wearing it haversack style. The lefthand fence belonged to Jack, which permitted the three youngerClearys domain of the road itself. At the top of the long, steep hill they had to climb from the smithy hollow towhere the Robertson road joined the Wahine road, they paused for a moment, panting, the five bright headshaloed against a puffily clouded sky. This was the best part, going down the hill; they linked hands and gallopedon the grassy233 verge234 until it vanished in a tangle93 of flowers, wishing they had the time to sneak235 under Mr.
Chapman's fence and roll all the way down like boulders236.
It was five miles from the Cleary house to Wahine, and by the time Meggie saw telegraph poles in thedistance her legs were trembling and her socks were falling down. Ears tuned237 for the assembly bell, Bob glancedat her impatiently as she toiled238 along, hitching239 at her drawers and giving an occasional gasp240 of distress241. Her faceunder the mass of hair was pink and yet curiously242 pallid243. Sighing, Bob passed his satchel to Jack and ran hishands down the sides of his knickers.
"Come on, Meggie, I'll piggyback you the rest of the way," he said gruffly, glaring at his brothers in case theyhad the mistaken idea that he was going soft.
Meggie scrambled onto his back, heaved herself up enough to lock her legs around his waist, and pillowed herhead on his skinny shoulder blissfully. Now she could view Wahine in comfort.
There was not much to see. Little more than a big village, Wahine straggled down each side of a tar-centeredroad. The biggest building was the local hotel, of two stories, with an awning98 shading the footpath244 from the sunand posts supporting the awning all along the gutter245. The general store was the next-biggest building, alsoboasting a sheltering awning, and two long wooden benches under its cluttered246 windows for passersby247 to restupon. There was a flagpole in front of the Masonic hall; from its top a tattered union Jack fluttered faded in thestiff breeze. As yet the town possessed no garage, horseless carriages being limited to a very few, but there was ablacksmith's barn near the Masonic hall, with a stable behind it and a gasoline pump standing stiffly next to thehorse trough. The only edifice248 in the entire settlement which really caught the eye was a peculiar249 bright-blueshop, very un-British; every other building was painted a sober brown. The public school and the Church ofEngland stood side by side, just opposite the Sacred Heart Church and parish school.
As the Clearys hurried past the general store the Catholic bell sounded, followed by the heavier tolling250 of thebig bell on a post in front of the public school. Bob 28 broke into a trot251, and they entered the gravel252 yard as somefifty children were lining108 up in front of a diminutive253 nun69 wielding254 a willowy stick taller than she was. Withouthaving to be told, Bob steered256 his kin7 to one side away from the lines of children, and stood with his eyes fixedon the cane. The Sacred Heart convent was two-storied, but because it stood well back from the road behind afence, the fact was not easily apparent. The three nuns257 of the Order of the Sisters of Mercy who staffed it livedupstairs with a fourth nun, who acted as housekeeper258 and was never seen; downstairs were the three big rooms inwhich school was taught. A wide, shady veranda ran all the way around the rectangular building, where on rainydays the children were allowed to sit decorously during their play and lunch breaks, and where on sunny days nochild was permitted to set foot. Several large fig41 trees shaded a part of the spacious259 grounds, and behind theschool the land sloped away a little to a grassy circle euphemistically christened "the cricket pitch," from thechief activity that went on in that area. Ignoring muffled260 sniggers from the lined-up children, Bob and hisbrothers stood perfectly261 still while the pupils marched inside to the sound of Sister Catherine plunking "Faith ofOur Fathers" on the tinny school piano. Only when the last child had disappeared did Sister Agatha break herrigid pose; heavy serge skirts swishing the gravel aside imperiously, she strode to where the Clearys waited.
Meggie gaped262 at her, never having seen a nun before. The sight was truly extraordinary; three dabs263 of person,which were Sister Agatha's face and hands, the rest white starched wimple and bib glaring against layers ofblackest black, with a massive rope of wooden rosary beads dangling from an iron ring that joined the ends of awide leather belt around Sister Agatha's stout middle. Sister Agatha's skin was permanently red, from too muchcleanliness and the pressure of the knifelike edges of the wimple framing the front center of her head intosomething too disembodied to be called a face; little hairs sprouted264 in tufts all over her chin, which the wimpleruthlessly squashed double. Her lips were quite invisible, compressed into a single line of concentration on thehard business of being the Bride of Christ in a colonial backwater with topsy-turvy seasons when she had takenher vows265 in the sweet softness of a Killarney abbey over fifty years before. Two small crimson266 marks wereetched into the sides of her nose from the remorseless grip of her round, steel-framed spectacles, and behindthem her eyes peered out suspiciously, pale blue and bitter. "Well, Robert Cleary, why are you late?" SisterAgatha barked in her dry, once Irish voice.
"I'm sorry, Sister," Bob replied woodenly, his blue green eyes still riveted267 on the tip of the quivering cane as itwaved back and forth114. "Why are you late?" she repeated.
"I'm sorry, Sister.""This is the first morning of the new school year, Robert Cleary, and I would have thought that on this morningif not on others you might have made an effort to be on time."Meggie shivered, but plucked up her courage. "Oh, please, Sister, it was my fault!" she squeaked268.
The pale-blue eyes deviated269 from Bob and seemed to go through and through Meggie's very soul as she stoodthere gazing up in genuine innocence270, not aware she was breaking the first rule of conduct in a deadly duel271 whichwent on between teachers and pupils ad infinitum: never volunteer information. Bob kicked her swiftly on theleg and Meggie looked at him sideways, bewildered. "Why was it your fault?" the nun demanded in the coldesttones Meggie had ever heard.
"Well, I was sick all over the table and it went right through to my drawers, so Mum had to wash me andchange my dress, and I made us all late," Meggie explained artlessly.
Sister Agatha's features remained expressionless, but her mouth tightened272 like an overwound spring, and the tipof the cane lowered itself an inch or two. "Who is this?" she snapped to Bob, as if the object of her inquiry273 werea new and particularly obnoxious274 species of insect. "Please, Sister, she's my sister Meghann.""Then in future you will make her understand that there are certain subjects we do not ever mention, Robert, ifwe are true ladies and gentlemen. On no account do we ever, ever mention by name any item of ourunderclothing, as children from a decent household would automatically know. Hold out your hands, all of you.""But, Sister, it was my fault!" Meggie wailed275 as she extended her hands palms up, for she had seen her brothersdo it in pantomime at home a thousand times.
"Silence!" Sister Agatha hissed276, turning on her. "It is a matter of complete indifference277 to me which one of youwas responsible. You are all late, therefore you must all be punished. Six cuts." She pronounced the sentencewith monotonous278 relish194.
Terrified, Meggie watched Bob's steady hands, saw the long cane whistle down almost faster than her eyescould follow, and crack sharply against the center of his palms, where the flesh was soft and tender. A purplewelt flared279 up immediately; the next cut came at the junction280 of fingers and palm, more sensitive still, and thefinal one across the tips of the fingers, where the brain has loaded the skin down with more sensation thananywhere else save the lips. Sister Agatha's aim was perfect. Three more cuts followed on Bob's other handbefore she turned her attention to Jack, next in line. Bob's face was pale but he made no outcry or movement, nordid his brothers as their turns came; even quiet and tender Stu.
As they followed the upward rise of the cane above her own hands Meggie's eyes closed involuntarily, so shedid not see the descent. But the pain was like a vast explosion, a scorching281, searing invasion of her flesh rightdown to the bone; even as the ache spread tingling282 up her forearm the next cut came, and by the time it hadreached her shoulder the final cut across her fingertips was screaming along the same path, all the way through toher heart. She fastened her teeth in her lower lip and bit down on it, too ashamed and too proud to cry, too angryand indignant at the injustice283 of it to dare open her eyes and look at Sister Agatha; the lesson was sinking in,even if the crux284 of it was not what Sister Agatha intended to teach. It was lunchtime before the last of the paindied out of her hands. Meggie had passed the morning in a haze285 of fright and bewilderment, not understandinganything that was said or done. Pushed into a double desk in the back row of the youngest children's classroom,she did not even notice who was sharing the desk until after a miserable286 lunch hour spent huddled287 behind Boband Jack in a secluded288 corner of the playground. Only Bob's stern command persuaded her to eat Fee'sgooseberry jam sandwiches. When the bell rang for afternoon classes and Meggie found a place on line, her eyesfinally began to clear enough to take in what was going on around her. The disgrace of the caning289 rankled290 assharply as ever, but she held her head high and affected291 not to notice the nudges and whispers of the little girlsnear her.
Sister Agatha was standing in front with her cane; Sister Declan prowled up and down behind the lines: SisterCatherine seated herself at the piano just inside the youngest children's classroom door and began rather' play"Onward, Christian292 Soldiers" with a heavy emphasis on two-four time. It was, properly speaking, a Protestanthymn, but the war had rendered it interdenominational. The dear children marched to it just like wee soldiers,Sister Catherine thought proudly.
Of the three nuns, Sister Declan was a replica293 of Sister Agatha minus fifteen years of life, where SisterCatherine was still remotely human. She was only in her thirties, Irish of course, and the bloom of her ardor294 hadnot yet entirely295 faded; she still found joy in teaching, still saw Christ's imperishable Image in the little facesturned up to hers so adoringly. But she taught the oldest children, whom Sister Agatha deemed beaten enough tobehave in spite of a young and soft supervisor296. Sister Agatha herself took the youngest children to form mindsand hearts out of infantile clay, leaving those in the middle grades to Sister Declan.
Safely hidden in the last row of desks, Meggie dared to glance sideways at the little girl sitting next to her. Agap-toothed grin met her frightened gaze, huge black eyes staring roundly out of a dark, slightly shiny face. Shefascinated Meggie, used to fairness and freckles297, for even Frank with his dark eyes and hair had a fair white skin;so Meggie ended in thinking her deskmate the most beautiful creature she had ever seen. "What's your name?"the dark beauty muttered out of the side of her mouth, chewing on the end of her pencil and spitting the frayedbits into her empty inkwell hole.
"Meggie Cleary," she whispered back.
"You there!" came a dry, harsh voice from the front of the classroom. Meggie jumped, looking around inbewilderment. There was a hollow clatter298 as twenty children all put their pencils down together, a muted rustlingas precious sheets of paper were shuffled299 to one side so elbows could be surreptitiously placed on desks. With aheart that seemed to crumple300 down toward her boots, Meggie realized everyone was staring at her. Sister Agathawas coming down the aisle301 rapidly; Meggie's terror was so acute that had there only been somewhere to flee, she33 would have run for her life. But behind her was the partition shutting off the middle grade's room, on eitherside desks crowded her in, and in front was Sister Agatha. Her eyes nearly filled her pinched little face as shestared up at the nun in suffocated fear, her hands clenching302 and unclenching on the desktop303.
"You spoke, Meghann Cleary.""Yes, Sister.""And what did you say?""My name, Sister.""Your name!" Sister Agatha sneered305, looking around at the other children as if they, too, surely must share hercontempt. "Well, children, are we not honored? Another Cleary in our school, and she cannot wait to broadcasther name!" She turned back to Meggie. "Stand up when I address you, you ignorant little savage306! And hold outyour hands, please."Meggie scrambled out of her seat, her long curls swinging across her face and bouncing away. Gripping herhands together, she wrung307 them desperately308, but Sister Agatha did not move, only waited, waited, waited . . . .
Then somehow Meggie managed to force her hands out, but as the cane descended she snatched them away,gasping309 in terror. Sister Agatha locked her fingers in the bunched hair on top of Meggie's head and hauled hercloser, bringing her face up to within inches of those dreadful spectacles. "Hold out your hands, MeghannCleary." It was said courteously310, coldly, implacably.
Meggie opened her mouth and vomited all over the front of Sister Agatha's habit. There was a horrified311 intakeof breath from every child in the room asSister Agatha stood with the disgusting sick dripping down her black pleats onto the floor, her face purple withrage and astonishment312. Then down came the cane, anywhere it could land on Meggie's body as she flung up herarms to shield her face and cringed, still retching, into the corner. When Sister Agatha's arm was so tired it didnot want to lift the cane, she pointed toward the door.
"Go home, you revolting little Philistine," she said, turned on her heel and went through into Sister Declan'sclassroom. Meggie's frantic46 gaze found Stu; he nodded his head as if to tell her she must do as she was told, hissoft blue-green eyes full of pity and understanding. Wiping her mouth with her handkerchief, she stumbledthrough the door and out into the playground. There were still two hours to go before school was dismissed; sheplodded down the street without interest, knowing there was no chance the boys would catch up with her, and toofrightened to find somewhere to wait for them. She had to go home on her own, confess to Mum on her own.
Fee nearly fell over her as she staggered out of the back door with a full basket of wet washing. Meggie wassitting on the top step of the back veranda, her head down, the ends of her bright curls sticky and the front of herdress stained. Putting down the crushing weight of the basket, Fee sighed, pushed a strand313 of wayward hair outof her eyes. "Well, what happened?" she demanded tiredly.
"I was sick all over Sister Agatha.""Oh, Lord!" Fee said, her hands on her hips.
"I got caned314, too," Meggie whispered, the tears standing unshed in her eyes.
"A nice kettle of fish, I must say." Fee heaved her basket up, swaying until she got it balanced. "Well, Meggie, Idon't know what to do with you. We'll have to wait and see what Daddy says." And she walked off across thebackyard toward the flapping half-fullclotheslines. Rubbing her hands wearily around her face, Meggie stared after her mother for a moment, then gotup and started down the path to the forge. Frank had just finished shoeing Mr. Robertson's bay mare, and wasbacking it into a stall when Meggie appeared in the doorway315. He turned and saw her, and memories of his ownterrible misery316 at school came flooding back to him. She was so little, so baby-plump and innocent and sweet,but the light in the eyes had been brutally317 quenched318 and an expression lurked319 there which made him want tomurder Sister Agatha. Murder her, really murder her, take the double chins and squeeze .... Down went his tools,off came his apron; he walked to her quickly.
"What's the matter, dear?" he asked, bending over until her face was level with his own. The smell of vomitrose from her like a miasma320, but he crushed his impulse to turn away.
"Oh, Fruh-Fruh-Frank!" she wailed, her face twisting up and her tears undammed at last. She threw her armsaround his neck and clung to him passionately321, weeping in the curiously silent, painful way all the Clearychildren did once they were out of infancy322. It was horrible to watch, and not something soft words or kissescould heal.
When she was calm again he picked her up and carried her to a pile of sweet-smelling hay near Mr. Robertson'smare; they sat there together and let the horse lip at the edges of their straw bed, lost to the world. Meggie's headwas cradled on Frank's smooth bare chest, tendrils of her hair flying around as the horse blew gusty190 breaths intothe hay, snorting with pleasure. "Why did she cane all of us, Frank?" Meggie asked. "I told her it was my fault."Frank had got used to her smell and didn't mind it any more; he reached out a hand and absently stroked themare's nose, pushing it away when it got too inquisitive323.
"We're poor, Meggie, that's the main reason. The nuns always hate poor pupils. After you've been in Sister Ag'smoldy old school a few days you'll see it's not only the Clearys she takes it out on, but the Marshalls and theMacDonalds as well. We're all poor.
Now, if we were rich and rode to school in a big carriage like the O'Briens, they'd be all over us like a rash. Butwe can't donate organs to the church, or gold vestments to the sacristy, or a new horse and buggy to the nuns. Sowe don't matter. They can do what they like to us. "I remember one day Sister Ag was so mad at me that she keptscreaming at me, "Cry, for the love of heaven! Make a noise, Francis Cleary! If you'd give me the satisfaction ofhearing you bellow324, I wouldn't hit you so hard or so often!""That's another reason why she hates us; it's where we're better than the Marshalls and the MacDonalds. Shecan't make the Clearys cry. We're supposed to lick her boots. Well, I told the boys what I'd do to any Cleary whoeven whimpered when he was caned, and that goes for you, too, Meggie. No matter how hard she beats you, nota whimper. Did you cry today?" "No, Frank," she yawned, her eyelids325 drooping326 and her thumb poking327 blindlyacross her face in search of her mouth. Frank put her down in the hay and went back to his work, humming andsmiling.
Meggie was still asleep when Paddy walked in. His arms were filthy from mucking out Mr. Jarman's dairy, hiswide-brimmed hat pulled low over his eyes. He took in Frank shaping an axle on the anvil, sparks swirling328 roundhis. head, then his eyes passed to where his daughter was curled up in the hay, with Mr. Robertson's bay marehanging her head down over the sleeping face.
"I thought this is where she'd be," Paddy said, dropping his riding crop and leading his old roan into the stableend of the barn. Frank nodded briefly329, looking up at his father with that darkling glance of doubt and uncertaintyPaddy always found so irritating, then he returned to the white-hot axle, sweat making his bare sides glisten137.
Unsaddling his roan, Paddy turned it into a stall, filled the water compartment330 and then mixed bran and oats witha little water for its food. The animal rumbled331 affectionately at him when he emptied the fodder332 into its manger,and its eyes followed him as he walked to the big trough outside the forge, took off his shirt. He washed armsand face and torso, drenching333 his riding breeches and his hair. Toweling himself dry on an old sack, he looked athis son quizzically.
"Mum told me Meggie was sent home in disgrace. Do you know what exactly happened?"Frank abandoned his axle as the heat in it died. "The poor little coot was sick all over Sister Agatha."Wiping the grin off his face hastily, Paddy stared at the far wall for a moment to compose himself, then turnedtoward Meggie. "All excited about going to school, eh?""I don't know. She was sick before they left this morning, and it held them up long enough t[*thorn] be late forthe bell. They all got sixers, but Meggie was terribly upset because she thought she ought to have been the onlyone punished. After lunch Sister Ag pounced334 on her again, and our Meggie spewed bread and jam all over SisterAg's clean black habit.""What happened then?""Sister Ag caned her good and proper, and sent her home in disgrace." "Well, I'd say she's had punishmentenough. I have a lot of respect for the nuns and I" know it isn't our place to question what they do, but I wishthey were a bit less eager with the cane. I know they have to beat the three R's into our thick Irish heads, but afterall, it was wee Meggie's first day at school."Frank was staring at his father, amazed. Not until this moment had Paddy ever communicated man-to man withhis oldest son. Shocked out of perpetual resentment51, Frank realized that for all his proud boasting,Paddy loved Meggie more than he did his sons. He 38 found himself almost liking335 his father, so he smiledwithout the mistrust. "She's a bonzer little thing, isn't she?" he asked. Paddy nodded absently, engrossed inwatching her. The horse blew its lips in and out, flapping; Meggie stirred, rolled over and opened her eyes. Whenshe saw her father standing beside Frank she sat bolt upright, fright paling her skin.
"Well, Meggie girl, you've had quite a day, haven't you?" Paddy went over and lifted her out of the hay, gaspingas he caught a whiff of her. Then he shrugged his shoulders and held her against him hard. "I got caned, Daddy,"she confessed.
"Well, knowing Sister Agatha, it won't be the last time," he laughed, perching her on his shoulder. "We'd bettersee if Mum's got any hot water in the copper337 to give you a bath. You smell worse than Jarman's dairy." Frankwent to the doorway and watched the two fiery heads bobbing up the path, then turned to find the bay mare'sgentle eyes fixed on him. "Come on, you big old bitch. I'll ride you home," he told it, scooping338 up a halter.
Meggie's vomiting339 turned out to be a blessing340 is disguise. Sister Agatha still caned her regularly, but alwaysfrom far enough away to escape the consequences, which lessened341 the strength of her arm and quite spoiled heraim.
The dark child who sat next to her was the youngest daughter of the Italian man who owned and operatedWahine's bright blue cafe. Her name was Teresa Annunzio, and she was just dull enough to escape SisterAgatha's attention without being so dull that it turned her into Sister Agatha's butt150. When her teeth grew in shewas quite strikingly beautiful, and Meggie adored her. During lesson breaks in the playground they walked witharms looped around each other's waists, which was the sign that you were "best friends" and not available forcourting by anyone else. And they talked, talked, talked. One lunchtime Teresa took her into the cafe to meet hermother and father and grown-up brothers and sisters. They were as charmed with her golden fire as Meggie waswith their darkness, likening her to an angel when she turned her wide, beautifully flecked grey eyes upon them.
From her mother she had inherited an indefinable air of breeding which everyone felt immediately; so did theAnnunzio family. As eager as Teresa to woo her, they gave her big fat potato chips fried in sizzling cauldrons oflamb dripping, and a piece of boned fish which tasted delicious, dipped as it was in floury batter10 and fried in thesmoking well of liquid fat along with the chips, only in a separate wire basket. Meggie had never eaten food sodelicious, and wished she could lunch at the cafe more often. But this had been a treat, requiring specialpermission from her mother and the nuns. Her conversation at home was all "Teresa says" and "Do you knowwhat Teresa did?" until Paddy roared that he had heard more than enough about Teresa. "I don't know that it'ssuch a good idea to be too thick with Dagos," he muttered, sharing the British community's instinctive342 mistrust ofany dark orMediterranean people. "Dagos are dirty, Meggie girl, they don't wash too often," he explained lamely343, wiltingunder the look of hurt reproach Meggie gave him.
Fiercely jealous, Frank agreed with him. So Meggie spoke less often of her friend when she was at home. Buthome disapproval345 couldn't interfere346 with the relationship, confined as it was by distance to school days andhours; Bob and the boys were only too pleased to see her utterly347 engrossed in Teresa. It left them to career madlyaround the playground just as if their sister did not exist.
The unintelligible348 things Sister Agatha was always writing on the blackboard gradually began to make sense,and Meggie learned that a "plus was meant you counted all the numbers up to a total, where a "com" meant youtook the numbers on the bottom away from the numbers on the top and wound up with less than you had in thefirst place. She was a bright child, and would have been an excellent if not brilliant student had she only beenable to overcome her fear of Sister Agatha. But the minute those gimlet eyes turned her way and that dry oldvoice rapped a curt349 question at her, she stammered350 and stuttered and could not think. Arithmetic she found easy,but when called upon to demonstrate toper skill verbally she could not remember how many two and two made.
Reading was the entrance into a world so fascinating she couldn't get enough of it; but when Sister Agatha madeher stand to read a passage out loud, she could hardly pronounce "cat," let alone "miaow." It seemed to her thatshe was forever quivering under Sister Agatha's sarcastic351 comments or flushing bright red because the rest of theclass was laughing at her. For it was always her slate352 Sister Agatha held up to sneer304 at, always her laboriouslywritten sheets of paper Sister Agatha used to demonstrate the ugliness of untidy work. Some of the richerchildren were lucky enough to possess erasers, but Meggie's only eraser was the tip of her finger, which shelicked and rubbed over her nervous mistakes until the writing smudged and the paper came away in miniaturesausages. It made holes and was strictly353 forbidden, but she was desperate enough to do anything to avoid SisterAgatha's strictures.
Until her advent354 Stuart had been the chief target of Sister Agatha's cane and venom355. However, Meggie was amuch better target, for Stuart's wistful tranquility and almost saintlike aloofness356 were hard nuts to crack, even forSister Agatha. On the other hand, Meggie trembled and went as red as a beet357, for all she tried so manfully toadhere to the Cleary line of behavior as defined by Frank. Stuart pitied Meggie deeply and tried to make 41 iteasier for her by deliberately358 sidetracking the nun's anger onto his own head. She saw through his ploysimmediately, angered afresh to see the Cleary clannishness359 as much in evidence with the girl as it had alwaysbeen among the boys. Had anyone questioned her as to exactly why she had such a down on the Clearys, shewould not have been able to answer. But for an old nun as embittered360 by the course her life had taken as SisterAgatha, a proud and touchy361 family like the Clearys was not easy to swallow. Meggie's worst sin was being left-handed. When she gingerly picked up her slate pencil to embark362 on her first writing lesson, Sister Agathadescended on her likeCaesar on the Gauls.
"Meghan Cleary, put that pencil down!" she thundered. Thus began a battle royal. Meggie was incurably andhopelessly left-handed. When Sister Agatha forcibly bent the fingers of Meggie's right hand correctly around thepencil and poised363 it above the slate, Meggie sat there with her head reeling and no idea in the world how to makethe afflicted364 limb do what Sister Agatha insisted it could. She became mentally deaf, dumb and blind; thatuseless appendage365 her right hand was no more linked to her thought processes than her toes. She dribbled366 a lineclean off the edge of the slate because she could not make it bend; she dropped her pencil as if paralyzed;nothing Sister Agatha could do would make Meggie's right hand foam18 an A. Then surreptitiously Meggie wouldtransfer her pencil to her left hand, and with her arm curled awkwardly around three sides of the slate she wouldmake a row of beautiful copperplate A's.
Sister Agatha won the battle. On morning line-up she tied Meggie's left arm against her body with rope, andwould not undo367 it until the dismissal bell rang at three in the afternoon. Even at lunchtime she had to eat, walkaround and play games with her left side firmly 42 immobilized. It took three months, but eventually she learnedto write correctly according to the tenets of Sister Agatha, though the formation of her letters was never good. Tomake sure she would never revert368 back to using it, her left arm was kept tied to her body for a further twomonths; then Sister Agatha made the whole school assemble to say a rosary of thanks to Almighty369 God for Hiswisdom in making Meggie see the error of her ways. God's children were all right-handed; lefthanded childrenwere the spawn370 of the Devil, especially when redheaded.
In that first year of school Meggie lost her baby plumpness and became very thin, though she grew little inheight. She began to bite her nails down to the quick, and had to endure Sister Agatha's making her walk aroundevery desk in the school holding her hands out so all the children could see how ugly bitten nails were. And thiswhen nearly half the children between five and fifteen bit their nails as badly as Meggie did. Fee got out thebottle of bitter aloes and painted the tips of Meggie's fingers with the horrible stuff. Everyone in the family wasenlisted to make sure she got no opportunity to wash the bitter aloes off, and when the other little girls at schoolnoticed the telltale brown stains she was mortified372. If she put her fingers in her mouth the taste wasindescribable, foul373 and dark like sheep-dip; in desperation she spat374 on her handkerchief and rubbed herself rawuntil she got rid of the worst of it. Paddy took out his switch, a much gentler instrument than Sister Agatha'scane, and sent her skipping round the kitchen. He did not believe in beating his children on the hands, face orbuttocks, only on the legs. Legs hurt as much as anywhere, he said, and could not be damaged. However, in spiteof bitter aloes, ridicule375, Sister Agatha and Paddy's switch, Meggie went on biting her nails.
Her friendship with Teresa Annunzio was the joy of her life, the only thing that made school endurable. She 43sat through lessons aching for playtime to come so she could sit with her arm around Teresa's waist and Teresa'sarm around hers under the big fig tree, talking, talking. There were tales about Teresa's extraordinary alienfamily, about her numerous dolls, and about her genuine willow255 pattern tea set.
When Meggie saw the tea set, she was overcome. It had 108 pieces, tiny miniature cups and saucers and plates,a teapot and a sugar bowl and a milk jug376 and a cream jug, with wee knives and spoons and forks just the rightsize for dolls to use. Teresa had innumerable toys; besides being much younger than her nearest sister, shebelonged to an Italian family, which meant she was passionately and openly loved, and indulged to the fullextent of her father's monetary377 resources. Each child viewed the other with awe and envy, though Teresa nevercoveted Meggie's Calvinistic, stoic378 upbringing. Instead she pitied her. Not to be allowed to run to her motherwith hugs and kisses? Poor Meggie!
As for Meggie, she was incapable379 of equating380 Teresa's beaming, portly little mother with her own slenderunsmiling mother, so she never thought: I wish Mum hugged and kissed me. What she did think was: I wishTeresa's mum hugged and kissed me. Though images of hugs and kisses were far less in her mind than images ofthe willow pattern tea set. So delicate, so thin and wafery, so beautiful! Oh, if only she had a willow pattern teaset, and could give Agnes afternoon tea out of a deep blue-and-white cup in a deep blue-and-white saucer!
During Friday Benediction381 in the old church with its lovely, grotesque382 Maori carvings383 and Maori paintedceiling, Meggie knelt to pray for a willow pattern tea set of her very own. When Father Hayes held themonstrance aloft, the Host peered dimly through the glass window in the middle of its gem-encrusted rays andblessed the bowed heads of the congregation. All save Meggie, that is, for she didn't "even see the Host; she wastoo busy trying to remember how many plates there were in Teresa's willow pattern tea set. And when the Maorisin the organ gallery broke into glorious song, Meggie's head was spinning in a daze384 of ultramarine blue farremoved from Catholicism or Polynesia.
The school year was drawing to a close, December and her birthday just beginning to threaten full summer,when Meggie learned how dearly one could buy the desire of one's heart. She was sitting on a high stool near thestove while Fee did her hair as usual for school; it was an intricate business. Meggie's hair had a natural tendencyto curl, which her mother considered to be a great piece of good luck. Girls with straight hair had a hard time ofit when they grew up and tried to produce glorious wavy385 masses out of limp, thin strands386. At night Meggie sleptwith her almost kneelength locks twisted painfully around bits of old white sheet torn into long strips, and eachmorning she had to clamber up on the stool while Fee undid387 the rags and brushed her curls in.
Fee used an old Mason Pearson hairbrush, taking one long, scraggly curl in her left hand and expertly brushingthe hair around her index finger until the entire length of it was rolled into a shining thick sausage; then shecarefully withdrew her finger from the center of the roll and shook it out into a long, enviably thick curl. Thismaneuver was repeated some twelve times, the front curls were then drawn together on Meggie's crown with afreshly ironed white taffeta bow, and she was ready for the day. All the other little girls wore braids to school,saving curls for special occasions, but on this one point Fee was adamant388; Meggie should have curls all the time,no matter how hard it was to spare the minutes each morning. Had Fee realized it, her charity was misguided, forher daughter's hair was far and away the most beautiful in the entire school. To rub the fact in with daily curlsearned Meggie much envy and loathing389. The process hurt, but Meggie was too used to it to notice, neverremembering a time when it had not been done. Fee's muscular arm yanked the brush ruthlessly through knotsand tangles390 until Meggie's eyes watered and she had to hang on to the stool with both hands to keep from fallingoff. It was the Monday of the last week at school, and her birthday was only two days away; she clung to thestool and dreamed about the willow pattern tea set, knowing it for a dream. There was one in the Wahine generalstore, and she knew enough of prices to realize that its cost put it far beyond her father's slender means.
Suddenly Fee made a sound, so peculiar it jerked Meggie out of her musing391 and made the menfolk still seated atthe breakfast table turn their heads curiously.
"Holy Jesus Christ!" said Fee.
Paddy jumped to his feet, his face stupefied; he had never heard Fee take the name of the Lord in vain before.
She was standing with one of Meggie's curls in her hand, the brush poised, her features twisted into anexpression of horror and revulsion. Paddy and the boys crowded round; Meggie tried to see what was going onand earned a backhanded slap with the bristle392 side of the brush which made her eyes water.
"Look!" Fee whispered, holding the curl in a ray of sunlight so Paddy could see.
The hair was a mass of brilliant, glittering gold in the sun, and Paddy saw nothing at first. Then he becameaware that a creature was marching down the back of Fee's hand. He took a curl for himself, and in among theleaping lights of it he discerned more creatures, going about their business busily. Little white things were stuckin clumps393 all along the separate strands, and the creatures were energetically producing more clumps of littlewhite things. Meggie's hair was a hive of industry.
"She's got lice!" Paddy said.
Bob, Jack, Hughie and Stu had a look, and like their father removed themselves to a safe distance; only Frankand Fee remained gazing at Meggie's hair, mesmerized394, while Meggie sat miserably395 hunched over, wonderingwhat she had done. Paddy sat down in his Windsor chair heavily, staring into the fire and blinking hard.
"It's that bloody Dago girl!" he said at last, and turned to glare at Fee. "Bloody bastards, filthy lot of flamingpigs!""Paddy!" Fee gasped396, scandalized.
"I'm sorry for swearing, Mum, but when I think of that blasted Dago giving her lice to Meggie, I could go intoWahine this minute and tear the whole filthy greasy397 cafe down!" he exploded, pounding his fist on his kneefiercely.
"Mum, what is it?" Meggie finally managed to say. "Look, you dirty little grub!" her mother answered,thrusting her hand down in front of Meggie's eyes. "You have these things everywhere in your hair, from thatEyetie girl you're so thick with! Now what am I going to do with you?"Meggie gaped at the tiny thing roaming blindly round Fee's bare skin in search of more hirsute398 territory, thenshe began to weep. Without needing to be told, Frank got the copper going while Paddy paced up and down thekitchen roaring, his rage increasing every time he looked at Meggie. Finally he went to the row of hooks on thewall inside the back door, jammed his hat on his head and took the long horsewhip from its nail. "I'm going intoWahine, Fee, and I'm going to tell that blasted Dago what he can do with his slimy fish and chips! Then I'mgoing to see Sister Agatha and tell her what I think of her, allowing lousy children in her school!" "Paddy, becareful!" Fee pleaded. "What if it isn't the Eyetie girl? Even if she has lice, it's possible she might have got themfrom someone else along with Meggie.""Rot!" said Paddy scornfully. He pounded down-the back steps, and a few minutes later they heard his roan'shoofs beating down the road. Fee sighed, looking at Frank hopelessly.
"Well, I suppose we'll be lucky if he doesn't land in jail. Frank, you'd better bring the boys inside. No schooltoday."One by one Fee went through her sons' hair minutely, then checked Frank's head and made him do the same forher. There was no evidence that anyone else had acquired poor Meggie's malady399, but Fee did not intend to takechances. When the water in the huge laundry copper was boiling, Frank got the dish tub down from its hangingand filled it half with hot water and half with cold. Then he went out to the Bleed and fetched in an unopenedfive-gallon can of kerosene, took a bar of lye soap from the laundry and started work on Bob. Each head wasbriefly damped in the tub, several cups of raw kerosene poured over it, and the whole draggled, greasy messlathered with soap. The kerosene and lye burned; the boys howled and rubbed their eyes raw, scratching at theirreddened, tingling scalps and threatening ghastly vengeance on all Dagos.
Fee went to her sewing basket and took out her big shears400. She came back to Meggie, who had not dared tomove from the stool though an hour and more had elapsed, and stood with the shears in her hand, staring at thebeautiful fall of hair. Then she began to cut it snip401! snip!-until all the long curls were huddled in glistening heapson the floor and Meggie's white skin was beginning to show in irregular patches all over her head. Doubt in hereyes, she turned then to Frank.
"Ought I to shave it?" she asked, tight-upped. Frank put out his hand, revolted. "Oh, Mum, no!
Surely not! If she gets a good douse402 of kerosene it ought to be enough. Please don't shave it!"So Meggie was marched to the worktable and held over the tub while they poured cup after cup of keroseneover her head and scrubbed the corrosive403 soap through what was left of her hair. When they were finallysatisfied, she was almost blind from screwing up her eyes against the bite of the caustic404, and little rows of blistershad risen all over her face and scalp. Frank swept the fallen curls into a sheet of paper and thrust it into thecopper fire, then took the broom and stood it in a panful of kerosene. He and Fee both washed their hair, gaspingas the lye seared their skins, then Frank got out a bucket and scrubbed the kitchen floor with sheep-dip. When thekitchen was as sterile405 as a hospital they went through to the bedrooms, stripped every sheet and blanket fromevery bed, and spent the rest of the day boiling, wringing406 and pegging407 out the family linen408. The mattresses409 andpillows were draped over the back fence and sprayed with kerosene, the parlor410 rugs were beaten within an inchof their lives. All the boys were put to helping, only Meggie exempted411 because she was in absolute disgrace. Shecrawled away behind the barn and cried. Her head throbbed412 with pain from the scrubbing, the burns and theblisters; and she was so bitterly ashamed that she would not even look at Frank when he came to find her, norcould he persuade her to come inside.
In the end he had to drag her into the house by brute413 force, kicking and fighting, and she had pushed herself intoa corner when Paddy came back from Wahine in the late afternoon. He took one look at Meggie's shorn head andburst into tears, sitting rocking himself in the Windsor chair with his hands over his face, while the family stoodshuffling their feet and wishing they were anywhere but where they were. Fee made a pot of tea and pouredPaddy a cup as he began to recover. "What happened in Wahine?" she asked. "You were gone an awful longtime." "I took the horsewhip to that blasted Dago and threw him into the horse trough, for one thing. Then Inoticed MacLeod standing outside his shop watching, so I told him what had happened. MacLeod musteredsome of the chaps at the pub and we threw the whole lot of those Dagos into the horse trough, women too, andtipped a few gallons of sheep-dip into it. Then I went down to the school and saw Sister Agatha, and I tell you,she was fit to be tied that she hadn't noticed anything. She hauled the Dago girl out of her desk to look in herhair, and sure enough, lice all over the place. So she sent the girl home and told her not to come back until herhead was clean. I left her and Sister Declan and Sister Catherine looking through every head in the school, andthere turned out to be a lot of lousy ones. Those three nuns were scratching themselves like mad when theythought no one was watching." He grinned at the memory, then he saw Meggie's head again and sobered. Hestared at her grimly. "As for you, young lady, no more Dagos or anyone except your brothers. If they aren't goodenough for you, too bad. Bob, I'm telling you that Meggie's to have nothing to do with anyone except you and theboys while she's at school, do you hear?"Bob nodded. "Yes, Daddy."The next morning Meggie was horrified to discover that she was expected to go to school as usual.
"No, no, I can't go!" she moaned, her hands clutching at her head. "Mum, Mum, I can't go to school like this,not with Sister Agatha!" "Oh, yes, you can," her mother replied, ignoring Frank's imploring414 looks. "It'll teach youa lesson."So off to school went Meggie, her feet dragging and her head done up in a brown bandanna415. Sister Agathaignored her entirely, but at playtime the other girls caught her and tore her scarf away to see what she lookedlike. Her face was only mildly disfigured, but her head when uncovered was a horrible sight, oozing416 and angry.
The moment he saw what was going on Bob came over, and took his sister away into a secluded corner of thecricket pitch. "Don't you take any notice of them, Meggie," he said roughly, tying the scarf around her headawkwardly and patting her stiff shoulders. "Spiteful little cats! I wish I'd thought to catch some of those thingsout of your head; I'm sure they'd keep. The minute everyone forgot, I'd sprinkle a few heads with a new lot."The other Cleary boys gathered around, and they sat guarding Meggie until the bell rang.
Teresa Annunzio came to school briefly at lunchtime, her head shaven. She tried to attack Meggie, but the boysheld her off easily. As she backed away she flung her right arm up in the air, its fist clenched417, and slapped herleft hand on its biceps in a fascinating, mysterious gesture no one understood, but which the boys avidly418 filedaway for future use. "I hate you!" Teresa screamed. "Me dad's got to move out of the district because of whatyour dad did to him!" She turned and ran from the playground, howling.
Meggie held her head up and kept her eyes dry. She was learning. It didn't matter what anyone else thought, itdidn't, it didn't! The other girls avoided her, half because they were frightened of Bob and Jack, half because theword had got around their parents and they had been instructed to keep away; being thick with the Clearysusually meant trouble of some kind. So Meggie passed the last few days of school "fin3 Coventry," as they calledit, which meant she was totally ostracized419. Even Sister Agatha respected the new policy, and took her rages outon Stuart instead. As were all birthdays among the little ones if they 51 fell on a school day, Meggie's birthdaycelebration was delayed until Saturday, when she received the longed for willow pattern tea set. It was arrangedon a beautifully crafted ultramarine table and chairs made in Frank's nonexistent spare time, and Agnes wasseated on one of the two tiny chairs wearing a new blue dress made in Fee's nonexistent spare time. Meggiestared dismally420 at the blue-and-white designs gamboling all around each small piece; at the fantastic trees withtheir funny puffy blossoms, at the ornate little pagoda421, at the strangely stilled pair of birds and the minute figureseternally fleeing across the kinky bridge. It had lost every bit of its enchantment422. But dimly she understood whythe family had beggared itself to get her the thing they thought dearest to her heart. So she dutifully made tea forAgnes in the tiny square teapot and went through the ritual as if in ecstasy423. And she continued doggedly424 to use itfor years, never breaking or so much as chipping a single piece. No one ever dreamed that she loathed425 the willowpattern tea set, the blue table and chairs, and Agnes's blue dress.
Two days before that Christmas of 1917 Paddy brought home his weekly newspaper and a new stack of booksfrom the library. However, the paper for once took precedence over the books. Its editors had conceived a novelidea based on the fancy American magazines which very occasionally found their way to New Zealand; theentire middle section was a feature on the war. There were blurred426 photographs of the Anzacs storming thepitiless cliffs at Gallipoli, long articles extolling427 the bravery of the Antipodean soldier, features on all theAustralian and New Zealand winners of the Victoria Cross since its inception428, and a magnificent full-pageetching of an Australian light horse cavalryman429 mounted on his charger, saber at the ready and long silkyfeathers pluming430 from under the turned-up side of his slouch hat.
At first opportunity Frank seized the paper and read the feature hungrily, drinking in its jingoistic431 prose, hiseyes glowing eerily432. "Daddy, I want to go!" he said as he laid the paper down reverently433 on the table.
Fee's head jerked around as she slopped stew all over the top of the stove, and Paddy stiffened in his Windsorchair, his book forgotten. "You're too young, Frank," he said.
"No, I'm not! I'm seventeen, Daddy, I'm a man! Why should the Huns and Turks slaughter434 our men like pigswhile I'm sitting here safe and sound? It's more than time a Cleary did his bit.""You're under age, Frank, they won't take you.""They wilt344 if you don't object," Frank countered quickly, his dark eyes fixed on Paddy's face.
"But I do object. You're the only one workingat the moment and we need the money you bring in, you know that.""But I'll be paid in the army!"Paddy laughed. "The "soldier's shilling' eh? Being a blacksmith in Wahine pays a lot better than being a soldierin Europe.""But I'll be over there, maybe I'll get the chance to be something better than a blacksmith! It's my only way out,Daddy.""Nonsense! Good God, boy, you don't know what you're saying. War is terrible. I come from a country that'sbeen at war for a thousand years, so I know what I'm saying. Haven't you heard the Boer War chaps talking? Yougo into Wahine often enough, so next time listen. And anyway, it strikes me that the blasted English use Anzacsas fodder for the enemy guns, putting them into places where they don't want to waste their own precious troops.
Look at the way that saber-rattling Churchill sent our men into something as useless as Gallipoli! Ten thousandkilled out of fifty thousand! Twice as bad as decimation.
"Why should you go fighting old Mother England's wars for her? What has she ever done for you, except bleedher colonies white? If you went to England they'd look down their noses at you for being a colonial. En Zed isn'tin any danger, nor is Australia. It might do old Mother England the world of good to be defeated; it's more thantime someone paid her for what she's done to Ireland. I certainly wouldn't weep any tears if the Kaiser ended upmarching down the Strand.""But Daddy, I want to enlist371!""You can want all you like, Frank, but you aren't going, so you may as well forget the whole idea. You're notbig enough to be a soldier." Frank's face flushed, his lips came together; his lack of stature435 was a very sore pointwith him. At school he had always been the smallest boy in his class, and fought twice as many battles as anyoneelse because of it. Of late a terrible doubt had begun to invade his being, for at seventeen he was exactly the samefive feet three he had been at fourteen; perhaps he had stopped growing. Only he knew the agonies to which hesubjected his body and his spirit, the stretching, the exercises, the fruitless hoping. Smithying had given him astrength out of all proportion to his height, however; had Paddy consciously chosen a profession for someone ofFrank's temperament436, he could not have chosen better. A small structure of pure power, at seventeen he hadnever been defeated in a fight and was already famous throughout the Taranaki peninsula. All his anger,frustration and inferiority came into a fight with him, and they were more than the biggest, strongest local couldcontend with, allied437 as they were to a body in superb physical condition, an excellent brain, viciousness andindomitable will. The bigger and tougher they were, the more Frank wanted to see them humbled438 in the dust. Hispeers trod a wide detour439 around him, for his aggressiveness was well known. Of late he had branched out of theranks of youths in his search for challenges, and the local men still talked about the day he had beaten JimCollins to a pulp, though Jim Collins was twenty-two years old, stood six feet four in his socks and could lifthorses. With his left arm broken and his ribs440 cracked, Frank had fought on until Jim Collins was a slobberingmass of bloodied441 flesh at his feet, and he had to be forcibly restrained from kicking the senseless face in. As soonas the arm healed and the ribs came out of strapping442, Frank went into town and lifted a horse, just to show thatJim wasn't the only one who could, and that it didn't depend on a man's size. As the sire of this phenomenon,Paddy knew Frank's reputation very well and understood Frank's battle to gain respect, though it did not preventhis becoming angry when fighting interfered443 "with the work in the forge. Being a small man himself, Paddy hadhad his share of fights to prove his courage, but in his part of Ireland he was not diminutive and by the time hearrived in New Zealand, where men were taller, he was a man grown. Thus his size was never the obsession444 withhim it was with Frank. Now he watched the boy carefully, trying to understand him and failing; this one hadalways been the farthest from his heart, no matter how he struggled against discriminating445 among his children.
He knew it grieved Fee, that she worried over the unspoken antagonism446 between them, but even his love for Feecould not overcome his exasperation447 with Frank. Frank's short, finely made hands were spread-across the openpaper defensively, his eyes riveted on Paddy's face in a curious mixture of pleading and a pride that was too stiff-necked to plead. How alien the face was! No Cleary or Armstrong in it, except perhaps a little look of Fee aroundthe eyes, if Fee's eyes had been dark and could have snapped and flashed the way Frank's did on slightestprovocation. One thing the lad did not lack, and that was courage.
The subject ended abruptly448 with Paddy's remark about Frank's size; the family ate stewed449 rabbit in unusualsilence, even Hughie and Jack treading carefully through a sticky, self-conscious conversation punctuated450 bymuch shrill451 giggling452. Meggie refused to eat, fixing her gaze on Frank as if he were going to disappear from sightany moment. Frank picked at his food for a decent interval453, and as soon as he could excused himself from thetable. A minute later they heard the axe clunking dully from the woodheap; Frank was attacking the hardwoodlogs Paddy had brought home to store for the slow-burning fires of winter.
When everyone thought she was in bed, Meggie squeezed out of her bedroom window and sneaked454 down to thewoodheap. It was a tremendously important area in the continuing life of the house; about a thousand square feetof ground padded and deadened by a thick layer of chips and bark, great high stacks of logs on one side waitingto be reduced in size, and on the other side mosaic-like walls of neatly455 prepared wood just the right size for thestove firebox. In the middle of the open space three tree stumps457 still rooted in the ground were used as blocks tochop different heights of wood. Frank was not on a block; he was working on a massive eucalyptus458 log andundercutting it to get it small enough to place on the lowest, widest stump456. Its two foot-diameter bulk lay on theearth, each end immobilized by an iron spike459, and Frank was standing on top of it, cutting it in two between hisspread feet. The axe was moving so fast it whistled, and the handle made its own separate swishing sound as itslid up and down within his slippery palms. Up it flashed above his head, down it came in a dull silver blur,carving a wedge-shaped chunk460 out of the iron-hard wood as easily as if it had been a pine or a deciduous461 tree.
Sundered462 pieces of wood were flying in all directions, the sweat was running in streams down Frank's bare chestand back, and he had wound his handkerchief about his brow to keep the sweat from blinding him. It wasdangerous work, undercutting; one mistimed or badly directed hack, and he would be minus a foot. He had hisleather wristbands on to soak up the sweat from his arms, but the delicate hands were ungloved, gripping the axehandle lightly and with exquisitely directed skill.
Meggie crouched463 down beside his discarded shirt and undervest to watch, awed464. Three spare axes were lyingnearby, for eucalyptus wood blunted the sharpest axe in no time at all. She grasped one by its handle and draggedit onto her knees, wishing she could chop wood like Frank. The axe was so heavy she could hardly lift it.
Colonial axes had only one blade, honed to hair-splitting sharpness, for double-bladed axes were too light foreucalyptus. The back of the axe head was an inch thick and weighted, the handle passing through it, firmlyanchored with small bits of extra wood. A loose axe head could come off in midswing, snap through the air ashard and fast as a cannonball and kill someone.
Frank was cutting almost instinctively465 in the fast fading light; Meggie dodged466 the chips with the ease of longpractice and waited patiently for him to spy her. The log was half severed467, and he turned himself the oppositeway, gasping; then he swung the axe up again, and began to cut the second side. It was a deep, narrow gap, toconserve wood and hasten the process; as he worked toward the center of the log the axe head disappearedentirely inside the cut, and the big wedges of wood flew out closer and closer to his body. He ignored them,chopping even faster. The log parted with stunning468 suddenness, and at the same moment he leaped lithely469 intothe air, sensing that it was going almost before the axe took its last bite. As the wood collapsed470 inward, he landedoff to one side, smiling; but it was not a happy smile.
He turned to pick up a new axe and saw his sister sitting patiently in her prim471 nightgown, all buttoned up andbuttoned down. It was still strange to see her hair clustering in a mass of short ringlets instead of done up in itscustomary rags, but he decided472 the boyish style suited her, and wished it could remain so. Coming over to her, hesquatted down with his axe held across his knees.
"How did you get out, you little twerp?""I climbed through the window after Stu was asleep.""If you don't watch out, you'll turn into a tomboy.""I don't mind. Playing with the boys is better than playing all by myself." "I suppose it is." He sat down with hisback against a log and wearily turned his head toward her. "What's the matter, Meggie?" "Frank, you're not reallygoing away, are you?" She put her hands with their mangled473 nails down on his thigh474 and stared up at himanxiously, her mouth open because her nose was stuffed full from fighting tears and she couldn't breathe throughit very well.
"I might be, Meggie." He said it gently.
"Oh, Frank, you can't! Mum and I need you! Honestly, I don't know what we'd do without you!"He grinned in spite of his pain, at her unconscious echoing of Fee's way of speaking.
"Meggie, sometimes things just don't happen the way you want them to. You ought to know that. We Clearyshave been taught to work together for the good of all, never to think of ourselves first. But I don't agree with that;I think we ought to be able to think of ourselves first. I want to go away because I'm seventeen and it's time Imade a life for myself. But Daddy says no, I'm needed at home for the good of the family as a whole. Andbecause I'm not twenty-one, I've got to do as Daddy says."Meggie nodded earnestly, trying to untangle the threads of Frank's explanation.
"Well, Meggie, I've thought long and hard about it. I'm going away, and that's that. I know you and Mum willmiss me, but Bob's growing up fast, and Daddy and the boys won't miss me at all. It's only the money I bring ininterests Daddy.""Don't you like us anymore, Frank?"He turned to snatch her into his arms, hugging and caressing475 her in tortured pleasure, most of it grief and painand hunger. "Oh, Meggie! I love you and Mum more than all the others put together! God, why weren't youolder, so I could talk to you? Or maybe it's better that you're so little, maybe it's better . . . ."He let her go abruptly, struggling to master himself, rolling his head back and forth against the log, his throatand mouth working. Then he looked at her. "Meggie, when you're older you'll understand better.""Please don't go away, Frank," she repeated.
He laughed, almost a sob36. "Oh, Meggie! Didn't you hear any of it? Well, it doesn't really matter. The mainthing is you're not to tell anyone you saw me tonight, hear? I don't want them thinking you're in on it.""I did hear, Frank, I heard all of it," Meggie said. "I won't say a word to anybody, though, I promise. But oh, Ido wish you didn't have to go away!" She was too young to be able to tell him what was no more than anunreasoning something within her heart; who else was there, if Frank went? He was the only one who gave herovert affection, the only one who held her and hugged her. When she was smaller Daddy used to pick her up alot, but ever since she started at school he had stopped letting her sit on his knee, wouldn't let her throw her armsaround his neck, saying, "You're a big girl now, Meggie." And Mum was always so busy, so tired, so wrapped inthe boys and the house. It was Frank who lay closest to her heart, Frank who loomed476 as the star in her limitedheaven. He was the only one who seemed to enjoy sitting talking to her, and he explained things in a way shecould understand.
Ever since the day Agnes had lost her hair there had been Frank, and in spite of her sore troubles nothing sincehad speared her quite to the core. Not canes477 or Sister Agatha or lice, because Frank was there to comfort andconsole.
But she got up and managed a smile. "If you have to go, Frank, then it's all right.""Meggie, you ought to be in bed, at least you'd better be back there before Mum checks. Scoot, quickly!"The reminder478 drove all else from her head; she thrust her face down and fished for the trailing back of hergown, pulled it through between her legs and held it like a tail in reverse in front of her as she ran, bare feetspurning the splinters and sharp chips.
In the morning Frank was gone. When Fee came to pull Meggie from her bed she was grim and terse336; Meggiehopped out like a scalded cat and dressed herself without even asking for help with all the little buttons. In thekitchen the boys were sitting glumly479 around the table, and Paddy's chair was empty. So was Frank's. Meggie slidinto her place and sat there, teeth chattering480 in fear. After breakfast Fee shooed them outside dourly481, and behindthe barn Bob broke the news to Meggie.
"Frank's run away," he breathed.
"Maybe he's just gone into Wahine," Meggie suggested. "No, silly! He's gone to join the army. Oh, I wish I wasbig enough to go with him! The lucky coot!""Well, I wish he was still at home."Bob shrugged. "You're only a girl, and that's what I'd expect a girl to say."The normally incendiary remark was permitted to pass unchallenged; Meggie took herself inside to her motherto see what she could do. "Where's Daddy?" she asked Fee after her mother had set her to ironing handkerchiefs.
"Gone in to Wahine.""Will he bring Frank back with him?"Fee snorted. "Trying to keep a secret in this family is impossible. No, he won't catch Frank in Wahine, heknows that. He's gone to send a telegram to the police and the army in Wanganui. They'll bring him back.""Oh, Mum, I hope they find him] I don't want Frank to go away!" Fee slapped the contents of the butter churnonto . the table and attacked the watery482 yellow mound483 with two wooden pats. "None of us want Frank to goaway. That's why Daddy's going to see he's brought back." Her mouth quivered for a moment; she whacked484 thebutter harder. "Poor Frank! Poor, poor Frank!" she sighed, not to Meggie but to herself. "I don't know why thechildren must pay for our sins. My poor Frank, so out of things . . ." Then she noticed that Meggie had stoppedironing, and shut her lips, and said no more. Three days later the police brought Frank back. He had put up aterrific struggle, the Wanganui sergeant485 on escort duty told Paddy. "What a fighter you've got! When he saw thearmy lads were a wakeup he was off like a shot, down the steps and into the street with two soldiers after him. Ifhe hadn't had the bad luck to run into a constable486 on patrol, I reckon he'd a got away, too. He put up a real wackofight; took five of them to get the manacles on."So saying, he removed Frank's heavy chains and pushed him roughly through the front gate; he stumbledagainst Paddy, and shrank away as if the contact stung.
The children were skulking487 by the side of the house twenty feet beyond the adults, watching and waiting. Bob,Jack and Hughie stood stiffly, hoping Frank would put up another fight; Stuart just looked on quietly, from out ofhis peaceful, sympathetic little soul; Meggie held her hands to her cheeks, pushing and kneading at them in anagony of fear that someone meant to hurt Frank.
He turned to look at his mother first, black eyes into grey in a dark and bitter communion which had never beenspoken, nor ever was. Paddy's fierce blue gaze beat him down, contemptuous and scathing488, as if this was what hehad expected, and Frank's downcast lids acknowledged his right to be angry. From that day forward Paddy neverspoke to his son beyond common civility. But it was the children Frank found hardest to face, ashamed andembarrassed, the bright bird brought home with the sky unplumbed, wings clipped, song drowned into silence.
Meggie waited until after Fee had done her nightly rounds, then she wriggled through the open window andmade off across the backyard. She knew where Frank would be, up in the hay in the barn, safe from prying489 eyesand his father.
"Frank, Frank, where are you?" she said in a stage whisper as she shuffled into the stilly blackness of the barn,her toes exploring the unknown ground in front of her as sensitively as an animal.
"Over here, Meggie," came his tired voice, hardly Frank's voice at all, no life or passion to it.
She followed the sound to where he was stretched out in the hay, and snuggled down beside him with her armsas far around his chest as they would reach. "Oh, Frank, I'm so glad you're back," she said. He groaned490, sliddown in the straw until he was lower than she, and put his head on her body. Meggie clutched at his thickstraight hair, crooning. It was too dark to see her, and the invisible substance of her sympathy undid him. Hebegan to weep, knotting his body into slow twisting rails of pain, his tears soaking her nightgown. Meggie didnot weep. Something in her little soul was old enough and woman enough to feel the irresistible491, stinging joy ofbeing needed; she sat rocking his head back and forth, back and forth, until his grief expended itself inemptiness.
点击收听单词发音
1 squatted | |
v.像动物一样蹲下( squat的过去式和过去分词 );非法擅自占用(土地或房屋);为获得其所有权;而占用某片公共用地。 | |
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2 tugged | |
v.用力拉,使劲拉,猛扯( tug的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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3 fin | |
n.鳍;(飞机的)安定翼 | |
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4 mistily | |
adv.有雾地,朦胧地,不清楚地 | |
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5 poke | |
n.刺,戳,袋;vt.拨开,刺,戳;vi.戳,刺,捅,搜索,伸出,行动散慢 | |
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6 ragged | |
adj.衣衫褴褛的,粗糙的,刺耳的 | |
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7 kin | |
n.家族,亲属,血缘关系;adj.亲属关系的,同类的 | |
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8 tattered | |
adj.破旧的,衣衫破的 | |
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9 yearning | |
a.渴望的;向往的;怀念的 | |
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10 batter | |
v.接连重击;磨损;n.牛奶面糊;击球员 | |
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11 battered | |
adj.磨损的;v.连续猛击;磨损 | |
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12 joint | |
adj.联合的,共同的;n.关节,接合处;v.连接,贴合 | |
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13 jointed | |
有接缝的 | |
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14 exquisitely | |
adv.精致地;强烈地;剧烈地;异常地 | |
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15 dour | |
adj.冷酷的,严厉的;(岩石)嶙峋的;顽强不屈 | |
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16 bosom | |
n.胸,胸部;胸怀;内心;adj.亲密的 | |
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17 foaming | |
adj.布满泡沫的;发泡 | |
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18 foam | |
v./n.泡沫,起泡沫 | |
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19 tinted | |
adj. 带色彩的 动词tint的过去式和过去分词 | |
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20 texture | |
n.(织物)质地;(材料)构造;结构;肌理 | |
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21 lashes | |
n.鞭挞( lash的名词复数 );鞭子;突然猛烈的一击;急速挥动v.鞭打( lash的第三人称单数 );煽动;紧系;怒斥 | |
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22 irises | |
n.虹( iris的名词复数 );虹膜;虹彩;鸢尾(花) | |
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23 streaked | |
adj.有条斑纹的,不安的v.快速移动( streak的过去式和过去分词 );使布满条纹 | |
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24 streak | |
n.条理,斑纹,倾向,少许,痕迹;v.加条纹,变成条纹,奔驰,快速移动 | |
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25 jack | |
n.插座,千斤顶,男人;v.抬起,提醒,扛举;n.(Jake)杰克 | |
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26 rustling | |
n. 瑟瑟声,沙沙声 adj. 发沙沙声的 | |
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27 scythe | |
n. 长柄的大镰刀,战车镰; v. 以大镰刀割 | |
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28 beacon | |
n.烽火,(警告用的)闪火灯,灯塔 | |
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29 thatch | |
vt.用茅草覆盖…的顶部;n.茅草(屋) | |
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30 pointed | |
adj.尖的,直截了当的 | |
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31 hem | |
n.贴边,镶边;vt.缝贴边;(in)包围,限制 | |
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32 engrossed | |
adj.全神贯注的 | |
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33 pouncing | |
v.突然袭击( pounce的现在分词 );猛扑;一眼看出;抓住机会(进行抨击) | |
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34 giggled | |
v.咯咯地笑( giggle的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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35 lank | |
adj.瘦削的;稀疏的 | |
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36 sob | |
n.空间轨道的轰炸机;呜咽,哭泣 | |
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37 sobbing | |
<主方>Ⅰ adj.湿透的 | |
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38 whoop | |
n.大叫,呐喊,喘息声;v.叫喊,喘息 | |
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39 awe | |
n.敬畏,惊惧;vt.使敬畏,使惊惧 | |
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40 spine | |
n.脊柱,脊椎;(动植物的)刺;书脊 | |
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41 fig | |
n.无花果(树) | |
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42 scant | |
adj.不充分的,不足的;v.减缩,限制,忽略 | |
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43 winking | |
n.瞬眼,目语v.使眼色( wink的现在分词 );递眼色(表示友好或高兴等);(指光)闪烁;闪亮 | |
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44 smearing | |
污点,拖尾效应 | |
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45 frantically | |
ad.发狂地, 发疯地 | |
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46 frantic | |
adj.狂乱的,错乱的,激昂的 | |
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47 hissing | |
n. 发嘶嘶声, 蔑视 动词hiss的现在分词形式 | |
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48 hew | |
v.砍;伐;削 | |
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49 anvil | |
n.铁钻 | |
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50 hatred | |
n.憎恶,憎恨,仇恨 | |
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51 resentment | |
n.怨愤,忿恨 | |
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52 apron | |
n.围裙;工作裙 | |
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53 plodded | |
v.沉重缓慢地走(路)( plod的过去式和过去分词 );努力从事;沉闷地苦干;缓慢进行(尤指艰难枯燥的工作) | |
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54 fixed | |
adj.固定的,不变的,准备好的;(计算机)固定的 | |
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55 rambling | |
adj.[建]凌乱的,杂乱的 | |
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56 standing | |
n.持续,地位;adj.永久的,不动的,直立的,不流动的 | |
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57 bruising | |
adj.殊死的;十分激烈的v.擦伤(bruise的现在分词形式) | |
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58 scourges | |
带来灾难的人或东西,祸害( scourge的名词复数 ); 鞭子 | |
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59 bowels | |
n.肠,内脏,内部;肠( bowel的名词复数 );内部,最深处 | |
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60 descended | |
a.为...后裔的,出身于...的 | |
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61 suffocated | |
(使某人)窒息而死( suffocate的过去式和过去分词 ); (将某人)闷死; 让人感觉闷热; 憋气 | |
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62 shuddering | |
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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63 thump | |
v.重击,砰然地响;n.重击,重击声 | |
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64 thumping | |
adj.重大的,巨大的;重击的;尺码大的;极好的adv.极端地;非常地v.重击(thump的现在分词);狠打;怦怦地跳;全力支持 | |
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65 awesome | |
adj.令人惊叹的,难得吓人的,很好的 | |
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66 gushed | |
v.喷,涌( gush的过去式和过去分词 );滔滔不绝地说话 | |
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67 spurned | |
v.一脚踢开,拒绝接受( spurn的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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68 alpine | |
adj.高山的;n.高山植物 | |
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69 nun | |
n.修女,尼姑 | |
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70 proximity | |
n.接近,邻近 | |
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71 marvel | |
vi.(at)惊叹vt.感到惊异;n.令人惊异的事 | |
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72 explicit | |
adj.详述的,明确的;坦率的;显然的 | |
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73 impractical | |
adj.不现实的,不实用的,不切实际的 | |
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74 replenished | |
补充( replenish的过去式和过去分词 ); 重新装满 | |
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75 apparently | |
adv.显然地;表面上,似乎 | |
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76 joints | |
接头( joint的名词复数 ); 关节; 公共场所(尤指价格低廉的饮食和娱乐场所) (非正式); 一块烤肉 (英式英语) | |
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77 callously | |
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78 desecrate | |
v.供俗用,亵渎,污辱 | |
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79 velvet | |
n.丝绒,天鹅绒;adj.丝绒制的,柔软的 | |
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80 cascaded | |
级联的 | |
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81 smeared | |
弄脏; 玷污; 涂抹; 擦上 | |
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82 bloody | |
adj.非常的的;流血的;残忍的;adv.很;vt.血染 | |
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83 bastards | |
私生子( bastard的名词复数 ); 坏蛋; 讨厌的事物; 麻烦事 (认为别人走运或不幸时说)家伙 | |
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84 scrambled | |
v.快速爬行( scramble的过去式和过去分词 );攀登;争夺;(军事飞机)紧急起飞 | |
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85 politic | |
adj.有智虑的;精明的;v.从政 | |
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86 touching | |
adj.动人的,使人感伤的 | |
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87 bent | |
n.爱好,癖好;adj.弯的;决心的,一心的 | |
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88 swollen | |
adj.肿大的,水涨的;v.使变大,肿胀 | |
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89 tighten | |
v.(使)变紧;(使)绷紧 | |
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90 hiccuping | |
v.嗝( hiccup的现在分词 );连续地打嗝;暂时性的小问题;短暂的停顿 | |
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91 triumphant | |
adj.胜利的,成功的;狂欢的,喜悦的 | |
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92 tangled | |
adj. 纠缠的,紊乱的 动词tangle的过去式和过去分词 | |
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93 tangle | |
n.纠缠;缠结;混乱;v.(使)缠绕;变乱 | |
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94 bleached | |
漂白的,晒白的,颜色变浅的 | |
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95 dangling | |
悬吊着( dangle的现在分词 ); 摆动不定; 用某事物诱惑…; 吊胃口 | |
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96 clump | |
n.树丛,草丛;vi.用沉重的脚步行走 | |
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97 skull | |
n.头骨;颅骨 | |
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98 awning | |
n.遮阳篷;雨篷 | |
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99 inverted | |
adj.反向的,倒转的v.使倒置,使反转( invert的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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100 silhouette | |
n.黑色半身侧面影,影子,轮廓;v.描绘成侧面影,照出影子来,仅仅显出轮廓 | |
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101 beset | |
v.镶嵌;困扰,包围 | |
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102 phantoms | |
n.鬼怪,幽灵( phantom的名词复数 ) | |
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103 copiously | |
adv.丰富地,充裕地 | |
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104 aligned | |
adj.对齐的,均衡的 | |
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105 snugly | |
adv.紧贴地;贴身地;暖和舒适地;安适地 | |
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106 starched | |
adj.浆硬的,硬挺的,拘泥刻板的v.把(衣服、床单等)浆一浆( starch的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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108 lining | |
n.衬里,衬料 | |
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109 veneer | |
n.(墙上的)饰面,虚饰 | |
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110 inspection | |
n.检查,审查,检阅 | |
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111 flip | |
vt.快速翻动;轻抛;轻拍;n.轻抛;adj.轻浮的 | |
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112 permanently | |
adv.永恒地,永久地,固定不变地 | |
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113 incurably | |
ad.治不好地 | |
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114 forth | |
adv.向前;向外,往外 | |
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115 quaint | |
adj.古雅的,离奇有趣的,奇怪的 | |
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116 simultaneously | |
adv.同时发生地,同时进行地 | |
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117 envious | |
adj.嫉妒的,羡慕的 | |
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118 purely | |
adv.纯粹地,完全地 | |
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119 shearing | |
n.剪羊毛,剪取的羊毛v.剪羊毛( shear的现在分词 );切断;剪切 | |
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120 plowing | |
v.耕( plow的现在分词 );犁耕;费力穿过 | |
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121 helping | |
n.食物的一份&adj.帮助人的,辅助的 | |
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122 fend | |
v.照料(自己),(自己)谋生,挡开,避开 | |
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123 flick | |
n.快速的轻打,轻打声,弹开;v.轻弹,轻轻拂去,忽然摇动 | |
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124 flickering | |
adj.闪烁的,摇曳的,一闪一闪的 | |
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125 veranda | |
n.走廊;阳台 | |
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126 axe | |
n.斧子;v.用斧头砍,削减 | |
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127 slippers | |
n. 拖鞋 | |
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128 possessed | |
adj.疯狂的;拥有的,占有的 | |
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129 drawn | |
v.拖,拉,拔出;adj.憔悴的,紧张的 | |
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130 mare | |
n.母马,母驴 | |
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131 sockets | |
n.套接字,使应用程序能够读写与收发通讯协定(protocol)与资料的程序( Socket的名词复数 );孔( socket的名词复数 );(电器上的)插口;托座;凹穴 | |
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132 taper | |
n.小蜡烛,尖细,渐弱;adj.尖细的;v.逐渐变小 | |
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133 eyebrows | |
眉毛( eyebrow的名词复数 ) | |
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134 drowsily | |
adv.睡地,懒洋洋地,昏昏欲睡地 | |
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135 beads | |
n.(空心)小珠子( bead的名词复数 );水珠;珠子项链 | |
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136 glistening | |
adj.闪耀的,反光的v.湿物闪耀,闪亮( glisten的现在分词 ) | |
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137 glisten | |
vi.(光洁或湿润表面等)闪闪发光,闪闪发亮 | |
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138 doze | |
v.打瞌睡;n.打盹,假寐 | |
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139 elongated | |
v.延长,加长( elongate的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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140 squint | |
v. 使变斜视眼, 斜视, 眯眼看, 偏移, 窥视; n. 斜视, 斜孔小窗; adj. 斜视的, 斜的 | |
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141 spoke | |
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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142 slur | |
v.含糊地说;诋毁;连唱;n.诋毁;含糊的发音 | |
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143 winding | |
n.绕,缠,绕组,线圈 | |
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144 fiery | |
adj.燃烧着的,火红的;暴躁的;激烈的 | |
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145 efficiently | |
adv.高效率地,有能力地 | |
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146 stew | |
n.炖汤,焖,烦恼;v.炖汤,焖,忧虑 | |
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147 growled | |
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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148 literally | |
adv.照字面意义,逐字地;确实 | |
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149 groans | |
n.呻吟,叹息( groan的名词复数 );呻吟般的声音v.呻吟( groan的第三人称单数 );发牢骚;抱怨;受苦 | |
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150 butt | |
n.笑柄;烟蒂;枪托;臀部;v.用头撞或顶 | |
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151 doled | |
救济物( dole的过去式和过去分词 ); 失业救济金 | |
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152 streaks | |
n.(与周围有所不同的)条纹( streak的名词复数 );(通常指不好的)特征(倾向);(不断经历成功或失败的)一段时期v.快速移动( streak的第三人称单数 );使布满条纹 | |
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153 superfluous | |
adj.过多的,过剩的,多余的 | |
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154 expended | |
v.花费( expend的过去式和过去分词 );使用(钱等)做某事;用光;耗尽 | |
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155 exhaustion | |
n.耗尽枯竭,疲惫,筋疲力尽,竭尽,详尽无遗的论述 | |
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156 puffing | |
v.使喷出( puff的现在分词 );喷着汽(或烟)移动;吹嘘;吹捧 | |
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157 allotted | |
分配,拨给,摊派( allot的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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158 exterior | |
adj.外部的,外在的;表面的 | |
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159 slumped | |
大幅度下降,暴跌( slump的过去式和过去分词 ); 沉重或突然地落下[倒下] | |
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160 sipping | |
v.小口喝,呷,抿( sip的现在分词 ) | |
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161 beckoned | |
v.(用头或手的动作)示意,召唤( beckon的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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162 iridescent | |
adj.彩虹色的,闪色的 | |
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163 ashtray | |
n.烟灰缸 | |
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164 kerosene | |
n.(kerosine)煤油,火油 | |
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165 rinse | |
v.用清水漂洗,用清水冲洗 | |
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166 stringent | |
adj.严厉的;令人信服的;银根紧的 | |
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167 domain | |
n.(活动等)领域,范围;领地,势力范围 | |
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168 delegation | |
n.代表团;派遣 | |
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169 vaguely | |
adv.含糊地,暖昧地 | |
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170 awfully | |
adv.可怕地,非常地,极端地 | |
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171 hunched | |
(常指因寒冷、生病或愁苦)耸肩弓身的,伏首前倾的 | |
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172 drudgery | |
n.苦工,重活,单调乏味的工作 | |
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173 labor | |
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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174 shrugged | |
vt.耸肩(shrug的过去式与过去分词形式) | |
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175 vengeance | |
n.报复,报仇,复仇 | |
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176 fiddling | |
微小的 | |
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177 veins | |
n.纹理;矿脉( vein的名词复数 );静脉;叶脉;纹理 | |
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178 caress | |
vt./n.爱抚,抚摸 | |
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179 darted | |
v.投掷,投射( dart的过去式和过去分词 );向前冲,飞奔 | |
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180 twitching | |
n.颤搐 | |
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181 mischief | |
n.损害,伤害,危害;恶作剧,捣蛋,胡闹 | |
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182 malice | |
n.恶意,怨恨,蓄意;[律]预谋 | |
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183 dingy | |
adj.昏暗的,肮脏的 | |
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184 linoleum | |
n.油布,油毯 | |
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185 stiffened | |
加强的 | |
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186 hips | |
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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187 wriggled | |
v.扭动,蠕动,蜿蜒行进( wriggle的过去式和过去分词 );(使身体某一部位)扭动;耍滑不做,逃避(应做的事等) | |
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188 flannel | |
n.法兰绒;法兰绒衣服 | |
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189 divest | |
v.脱去,剥除 | |
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190 gusty | |
adj.起大风的 | |
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191 longing | |
n.(for)渴望 | |
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192 desolate | |
adj.荒凉的,荒芜的;孤独的,凄凉的;v.使荒芜,使孤寂 | |
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193 relished | |
v.欣赏( relish的过去式和过去分词 );从…获得乐趣;渴望 | |
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194 relish | |
n.滋味,享受,爱好,调味品;vt.加调味料,享受,品味;vi.有滋味 | |
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195 clan | |
n.氏族,部落,宗族,家族,宗派 | |
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196 repercussions | |
n.后果,反响( repercussion的名词复数 );余波 | |
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197 felons | |
n.重罪犯( felon的名词复数 );瘭疽;甲沟炎;指头脓炎 | |
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198 indentured | |
v.以契约束缚(学徒)( indenture的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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199 arson | |
n.纵火,放火 | |
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200 larceny | |
n.盗窃(罪) | |
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201 tune | |
n.调子;和谐,协调;v.调音,调节,调整 | |
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202 gallows | |
n.绞刑架,绞台 | |
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203 overflowing | |
n. 溢出物,溢流 adj. 充沛的,充满的 动词overflow的现在分词形式 | |
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204 moored | |
adj. 系泊的 动词moor的过去式和过去分词形式 | |
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205 estuaries | |
(江河入海的)河口,河口湾( estuary的名词复数 ) | |
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206 reluctance | |
n.厌恶,讨厌,勉强,不情愿 | |
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207 expenditure | |
n.(时间、劳力、金钱等)支出;使用,消耗 | |
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208 naval | |
adj.海军的,军舰的,船的 | |
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209 contingent | |
adj.视条件而定的;n.一组,代表团,分遣队 | |
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210 odyssey | |
n.长途冒险旅行;一连串的冒险 | |
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211 majesty | |
n.雄伟,壮丽,庄严,威严;最高权威,王权 | |
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212 basked | |
v.晒太阳,取暖( bask的过去式和过去分词 );对…感到乐趣;因他人的功绩而出名;仰仗…的余泽 | |
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213 immured | |
v.禁闭,监禁( immure的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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214 pulp | |
n.果肉,纸浆;v.化成纸浆,除去...果肉,制成纸浆 | |
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215 filthy | |
adj.卑劣的;恶劣的,肮脏的 | |
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216 defiance | |
n.挑战,挑衅,蔑视,违抗 | |
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217 quench | |
vt.熄灭,扑灭;压制 | |
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218 hack | |
n.劈,砍,出租马车;v.劈,砍,干咳 | |
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219 ashore | |
adv.在(向)岸上,上岸 | |
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220 killing | |
n.巨额利润;突然赚大钱,发大财 | |
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221 aristocrats | |
n.贵族( aristocrat的名词复数 ) | |
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222 remarkable | |
adj.显著的,异常的,非凡的,值得注意的 | |
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223 austere | |
adj.艰苦的;朴素的,朴实无华的;严峻的 | |
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224 rites | |
仪式,典礼( rite的名词复数 ) | |
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225 vomited | |
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226 horrid | |
adj.可怕的;令人惊恐的;恐怖的;极讨厌的 | |
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227 cane | |
n.手杖,细长的茎,藤条;v.以杖击,以藤编制的 | |
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228 hopping | |
n. 跳跃 动词hop的现在分词形式 | |
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229 luncheon | |
n.午宴,午餐,便宴 | |
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230 satchel | |
n.(皮或帆布的)书包 | |
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231 profusely | |
ad.abundantly | |
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232 trespassing | |
[法]非法入侵 | |
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233 grassy | |
adj.盖满草的;长满草的 | |
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234 verge | |
n.边,边缘;v.接近,濒临 | |
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235 sneak | |
vt.潜行(隐藏,填石缝);偷偷摸摸做;n.潜行;adj.暗中进行 | |
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236 boulders | |
n.卵石( boulder的名词复数 );巨砾;(受水或天气侵蚀而成的)巨石;漂砾 | |
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237 tuned | |
adj.调谐的,已调谐的v.调音( tune的过去式和过去分词 );调整;(给收音机、电视等)调谐;使协调 | |
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238 toiled | |
长时间或辛苦地工作( toil的过去式和过去分词 ); 艰难缓慢地移动,跋涉 | |
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239 hitching | |
搭乘; (免费)搭乘他人之车( hitch的现在分词 ); 搭便车; 攀上; 跃上 | |
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240 gasp | |
n.喘息,气喘;v.喘息;气吁吁他说 | |
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241 distress | |
n.苦恼,痛苦,不舒适;不幸;vt.使悲痛 | |
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242 curiously | |
adv.有求知欲地;好问地;奇特地 | |
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243 pallid | |
adj.苍白的,呆板的 | |
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244 footpath | |
n.小路,人行道 | |
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245 gutter | |
n.沟,街沟,水槽,檐槽,贫民窟 | |
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246 cluttered | |
v.杂物,零乱的东西零乱vt.( clutter的过去式和过去分词 );乱糟糟地堆满,把…弄得很乱;(以…) 塞满… | |
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247 passersby | |
n. 过路人(行人,经过者) | |
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248 edifice | |
n.宏伟的建筑物(如宫殿,教室) | |
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249 peculiar | |
adj.古怪的,异常的;特殊的,特有的 | |
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250 tolling | |
[财]来料加工 | |
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251 trot | |
n.疾走,慢跑;n.老太婆;现成译本;(复数)trots:腹泻(与the 连用);v.小跑,快步走,赶紧 | |
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252 gravel | |
n.砂跞;砂砾层;结石 | |
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253 diminutive | |
adj.小巧可爱的,小的 | |
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254 wielding | |
手持着使用(武器、工具等)( wield的现在分词 ); 具有; 运用(权力); 施加(影响) | |
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255 willow | |
n.柳树 | |
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256 steered | |
v.驾驶( steer的过去式和过去分词 );操纵;控制;引导 | |
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257 nuns | |
n.(通常指基督教的)修女, (佛教的)尼姑( nun的名词复数 ) | |
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258 housekeeper | |
n.管理家务的主妇,女管家 | |
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259 spacious | |
adj.广阔的,宽敞的 | |
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260 muffled | |
adj.(声音)被隔的;听不太清的;(衣服)裹严的;蒙住的v.压抑,捂住( muffle的过去式和过去分词 );用厚厚的衣帽包着(自己) | |
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261 perfectly | |
adv.完美地,无可非议地,彻底地 | |
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262 gaped | |
v.目瞪口呆地凝视( gape的过去式和过去分词 );张开,张大 | |
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263 dabs | |
少许( dab的名词复数 ); 是…能手; 做某事很在行; 在某方面技术熟练 | |
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264 sprouted | |
v.发芽( sprout的过去式和过去分词 );抽芽;出现;(使)涌现出 | |
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265 vows | |
誓言( vow的名词复数 ); 郑重宣布,许愿 | |
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266 crimson | |
n./adj.深(绯)红色(的);vi.脸变绯红色 | |
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267 riveted | |
铆接( rivet的过去式和过去分词 ); 把…固定住; 吸引; 引起某人的注意 | |
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268 squeaked | |
v.短促地尖叫( squeak的过去式和过去分词 );吱吱叫;告密;充当告密者 | |
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269 deviated | |
v.偏离,越轨( deviate的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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270 innocence | |
n.无罪;天真;无害 | |
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271 duel | |
n./v.决斗;(双方的)斗争 | |
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272 tightened | |
收紧( tighten的过去式和过去分词 ); (使)变紧; (使)绷紧; 加紧 | |
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273 inquiry | |
n.打听,询问,调查,查问 | |
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274 obnoxious | |
adj.极恼人的,讨人厌的,可憎的 | |
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275 wailed | |
v.哭叫,哀号( wail的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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276 hissed | |
发嘶嘶声( hiss的过去式和过去分词 ); 发嘘声表示反对 | |
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277 indifference | |
n.不感兴趣,不关心,冷淡,不在乎 | |
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278 monotonous | |
adj.单调的,一成不变的,使人厌倦的 | |
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279 Flared | |
adj. 端部张开的, 爆发的, 加宽的, 漏斗式的 动词flare的过去式和过去分词 | |
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280 junction | |
n.连接,接合;交叉点,接合处,枢纽站 | |
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281 scorching | |
adj. 灼热的 | |
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282 tingling | |
v.有刺痛感( tingle的现在分词 ) | |
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283 injustice | |
n.非正义,不公正,不公平,侵犯(别人的)权利 | |
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284 crux | |
adj.十字形;难事,关键,最重要点 | |
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285 haze | |
n.霾,烟雾;懵懂,迷糊;vi.(over)变模糊 | |
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286 miserable | |
adj.悲惨的,痛苦的;可怜的,糟糕的 | |
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287 huddled | |
挤在一起(huddle的过去式与过去分词形式) | |
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288 secluded | |
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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289 caning | |
n.鞭打 | |
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290 rankled | |
v.(使)痛苦不已,(使)怨恨不已( rankle的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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291 affected | |
adj.不自然的,假装的 | |
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292 Christian | |
adj.基督教徒的;n.基督教徒 | |
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293 replica | |
n.复制品 | |
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294 ardor | |
n.热情,狂热 | |
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295 entirely | |
ad.全部地,完整地;完全地,彻底地 | |
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296 supervisor | |
n.监督人,管理人,检查员,督学,主管,导师 | |
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297 freckles | |
n.雀斑,斑点( freckle的名词复数 ) | |
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298 clatter | |
v./n.(使)发出连续而清脆的撞击声 | |
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299 shuffled | |
v.洗(纸牌)( shuffle的过去式和过去分词 );拖着脚步走;粗心地做;摆脱尘世的烦恼 | |
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300 crumple | |
v.把...弄皱,满是皱痕,压碎,崩溃 | |
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301 aisle | |
n.(教堂、教室、戏院等里的)过道,通道 | |
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302 clenching | |
v.紧握,抓紧,咬紧( clench的现在分词 ) | |
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303 desktop | |
n.桌面管理系统程序;台式 | |
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304 sneer | |
v.轻蔑;嘲笑;n.嘲笑,讥讽的言语 | |
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305 sneered | |
讥笑,冷笑( sneer的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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306 savage | |
adj.野蛮的;凶恶的,残暴的;n.未开化的人 | |
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307 wrung | |
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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308 desperately | |
adv.极度渴望地,绝望地,孤注一掷地 | |
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309 gasping | |
adj. 气喘的, 痉挛的 动词gasp的现在分词 | |
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310 courteously | |
adv.有礼貌地,亲切地 | |
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311 horrified | |
a.(表现出)恐惧的 | |
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312 astonishment | |
n.惊奇,惊异 | |
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313 strand | |
vt.使(船)搁浅,使(某人)困于(某地) | |
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314 caned | |
vt.用苔杖打(cane的过去式与过去分词形式) | |
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315 doorway | |
n.门口,(喻)入门;门路,途径 | |
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316 misery | |
n.痛苦,苦恼,苦难;悲惨的境遇,贫苦 | |
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317 brutally | |
adv.残忍地,野蛮地,冷酷无情地 | |
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318 quenched | |
解(渴)( quench的过去式和过去分词 ); 终止(某事物); (用水)扑灭(火焰等); 将(热物体)放入水中急速冷却 | |
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319 lurked | |
vi.潜伏,埋伏(lurk的过去式与过去分词形式) | |
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320 miasma | |
n.毒气;不良气氛 | |
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321 passionately | |
ad.热烈地,激烈地 | |
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322 infancy | |
n.婴儿期;幼年期;初期 | |
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323 inquisitive | |
adj.求知欲强的,好奇的,好寻根究底的 | |
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324 bellow | |
v.吼叫,怒吼;大声发出,大声喝道 | |
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325 eyelids | |
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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326 drooping | |
adj. 下垂的,无力的 动词droop的现在分词 | |
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327 poking | |
n. 刺,戳,袋 vt. 拨开,刺,戳 vi. 戳,刺,捅,搜索,伸出,行动散慢 | |
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328 swirling | |
v.旋转,打旋( swirl的现在分词 ) | |
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329 briefly | |
adv.简单地,简短地 | |
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330 compartment | |
n.卧车包房,隔间;分隔的空间 | |
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331 rumbled | |
发出隆隆声,发出辘辘声( rumble的过去式和过去分词 ); 轰鸣着缓慢行进; 发现…的真相; 看穿(阴谋) | |
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332 fodder | |
n.草料;炮灰 | |
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333 drenching | |
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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334 pounced | |
v.突然袭击( pounce的过去式和过去分词 );猛扑;一眼看出;抓住机会(进行抨击) | |
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335 liking | |
n.爱好;嗜好;喜欢 | |
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336 terse | |
adj.(说话,文笔)精炼的,简明的 | |
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337 copper | |
n.铜;铜币;铜器;adj.铜(制)的;(紫)铜色的 | |
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338 scooping | |
n.捞球v.抢先报道( scoop的现在分词 );(敏捷地)抱起;抢先获得;用铲[勺]等挖(洞等) | |
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339 vomiting | |
吐 | |
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340 blessing | |
n.祈神赐福;祷告;祝福,祝愿 | |
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341 lessened | |
减少的,减弱的 | |
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342 instinctive | |
adj.(出于)本能的;直觉的;(出于)天性的 | |
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343 lamely | |
一瘸一拐地,不完全地 | |
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344 wilt | |
v.(使)植物凋谢或枯萎;(指人)疲倦,衰弱 | |
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345 disapproval | |
n.反对,不赞成 | |
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346 interfere | |
v.(in)干涉,干预;(with)妨碍,打扰 | |
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347 utterly | |
adv.完全地,绝对地 | |
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348 unintelligible | |
adj.无法了解的,难解的,莫明其妙的 | |
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349 curt | |
adj.简短的,草率的 | |
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350 stammered | |
v.结巴地说出( stammer的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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351 sarcastic | |
adj.讥讽的,讽刺的,嘲弄的 | |
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352 slate | |
n.板岩,石板,石片,石板色,候选人名单;adj.暗蓝灰色的,含板岩的;vt.用石板覆盖,痛打,提名,预订 | |
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353 strictly | |
adv.严厉地,严格地;严密地 | |
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354 advent | |
n.(重要事件等的)到来,来临 | |
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355 venom | |
n.毒液,恶毒,痛恨 | |
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356 aloofness | |
超然态度 | |
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357 beet | |
n.甜菜;甜菜根 | |
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358 deliberately | |
adv.审慎地;蓄意地;故意地 | |
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359 clannishness | |
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360 embittered | |
v.使怨恨,激怒( embitter的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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361 touchy | |
adj.易怒的;棘手的 | |
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362 embark | |
vi.乘船,着手,从事,上飞机 | |
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363 poised | |
a.摆好姿势不动的 | |
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364 afflicted | |
使受痛苦,折磨( afflict的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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365 appendage | |
n.附加物 | |
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366 dribbled | |
v.流口水( dribble的过去式和过去分词 );(使液体)滴下或作细流;运球,带球 | |
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367 undo | |
vt.解开,松开;取消,撤销 | |
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368 revert | |
v.恢复,复归,回到 | |
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369 almighty | |
adj.全能的,万能的;很大的,很强的 | |
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370 spawn | |
n.卵,产物,后代,结果;vt.产卵,种菌丝于,产生,造成;vi.产卵,大量生产 | |
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371 enlist | |
vt.谋取(支持等),赢得;征募;vi.入伍 | |
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372 mortified | |
v.使受辱( mortify的过去式和过去分词 );伤害(人的感情);克制;抑制(肉体、情感等) | |
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373 foul | |
adj.污秽的;邪恶的;v.弄脏;妨害;犯规;n.犯规 | |
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374 spat | |
n.口角,掌击;v.发出呼噜呼噜声 | |
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375 ridicule | |
v.讥讽,挖苦;n.嘲弄 | |
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376 jug | |
n.(有柄,小口,可盛水等的)大壶,罐,盂 | |
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377 monetary | |
adj.货币的,钱的;通货的;金融的;财政的 | |
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378 stoic | |
n.坚忍克己之人,禁欲主义者 | |
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379 incapable | |
adj.无能力的,不能做某事的 | |
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380 equating | |
v.认为某事物(与另一事物)相等或相仿( equate的现在分词 );相当于;等于;把(一事物) 和(另一事物)等同看待 | |
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381 benediction | |
n.祝福;恩赐 | |
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382 grotesque | |
adj.怪诞的,丑陋的;n.怪诞的图案,怪人(物) | |
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383 carvings | |
n.雕刻( carving的名词复数 );雕刻术;雕刻品;雕刻物 | |
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384 daze | |
v.(使)茫然,(使)发昏 | |
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385 wavy | |
adj.有波浪的,多浪的,波浪状的,波动的,不稳定的 | |
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386 strands | |
n.(线、绳、金属线、毛发等的)股( strand的名词复数 );缕;海洋、湖或河的)岸;(观点、计划、故事等的)部份v.使滞留,使搁浅( strand的第三人称单数 ) | |
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387 Undid | |
v. 解开, 复原 | |
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388 adamant | |
adj.坚硬的,固执的 | |
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389 loathing | |
n.厌恶,憎恨v.憎恨,厌恶( loathe的现在分词);极不喜欢 | |
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390 tangles | |
(使)缠结, (使)乱作一团( tangle的第三人称单数 ) | |
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391 musing | |
n. 沉思,冥想 adj. 沉思的, 冥想的 动词muse的现在分词形式 | |
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392 bristle | |
v.(毛发)直立,气势汹汹,发怒;n.硬毛发 | |
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393 clumps | |
n.(树、灌木、植物等的)丛、簇( clump的名词复数 );(土、泥等)团;块;笨重的脚步声v.(树、灌木、植物等的)丛、簇( clump的第三人称单数 );(土、泥等)团;块;笨重的脚步声 | |
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394 mesmerized | |
v.使入迷( mesmerize的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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395 miserably | |
adv.痛苦地;悲惨地;糟糕地;极度地 | |
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396 gasped | |
v.喘气( gasp的过去式和过去分词 );喘息;倒抽气;很想要 | |
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397 greasy | |
adj. 多脂的,油脂的 | |
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398 hirsute | |
adj.多毛的 | |
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399 malady | |
n.病,疾病(通常做比喻) | |
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400 shears | |
n.大剪刀 | |
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401 snip | |
n.便宜货,廉价货,剪,剪断 | |
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402 douse | |
v.把…浸入水中,用水泼;n.泼洒 | |
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403 corrosive | |
adj.腐蚀性的;有害的;恶毒的 | |
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404 caustic | |
adj.刻薄的,腐蚀性的 | |
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405 sterile | |
adj.不毛的,不孕的,无菌的,枯燥的,贫瘠的 | |
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406 wringing | |
淋湿的,湿透的 | |
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407 pegging | |
n.外汇钉住,固定证券价格v.用夹子或钉子固定( peg的现在分词 );使固定在某水平 | |
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408 linen | |
n.亚麻布,亚麻线,亚麻制品;adj.亚麻布制的,亚麻的 | |
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409 mattresses | |
褥垫,床垫( mattress的名词复数 ) | |
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410 parlor | |
n.店铺,营业室;会客室,客厅 | |
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411 exempted | |
使免除[豁免]( exempt的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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412 throbbed | |
抽痛( throb的过去式和过去分词 ); (心脏、脉搏等)跳动 | |
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413 brute | |
n.野兽,兽性 | |
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414 imploring | |
恳求的,哀求的 | |
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415 bandanna | |
n.大手帕 | |
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416 oozing | |
v.(浓液等)慢慢地冒出,渗出( ooze的现在分词 );使(液体)缓缓流出;(浓液)渗出,慢慢流出 | |
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417 clenched | |
v.紧握,抓紧,咬紧( clench的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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418 avidly | |
adv.渴望地,热心地 | |
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419 ostracized | |
v.放逐( ostracize的过去式和过去分词 );流放;摈弃;排斥 | |
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420 dismally | |
adv.阴暗地,沉闷地 | |
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421 pagoda | |
n.宝塔(尤指印度和远东的多层宝塔),(印度教或佛教的)塔式庙宇 | |
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422 enchantment | |
n.迷惑,妖术,魅力 | |
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423 ecstasy | |
n.狂喜,心醉神怡,入迷 | |
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424 doggedly | |
adv.顽强地,固执地 | |
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425 loathed | |
v.憎恨,厌恶( loathe的过去式和过去分词 );极不喜欢 | |
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426 blurred | |
v.(使)变模糊( blur的过去式和过去分词 );(使)难以区分;模模糊糊;迷离 | |
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427 extolling | |
v.赞美( extoll的现在分词 );赞颂,赞扬,赞美( extol的现在分词 ) | |
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428 inception | |
n.开端,开始,取得学位 | |
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429 cavalryman | |
骑兵 | |
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430 pluming | |
用羽毛装饰(plume的现在分词形式) | |
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431 jingoistic | |
adj.强硬外交政策的,侵略分子的 | |
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432 eerily | |
adv.引起神秘感或害怕地 | |
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433 reverently | |
adv.虔诚地 | |
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434 slaughter | |
n.屠杀,屠宰;vt.屠杀,宰杀 | |
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435 stature | |
n.(高度)水平,(高度)境界,身高,身材 | |
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436 temperament | |
n.气质,性格,性情 | |
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437 allied | |
adj.协约国的;同盟国的 | |
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438 humbled | |
adj. 卑下的,谦逊的,粗陋的 vt. 使 ... 卑下,贬低 | |
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439 detour | |
n.绕行的路,迂回路;v.迂回,绕道 | |
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440 ribs | |
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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441 bloodied | |
v.血污的( bloody的过去式和过去分词 );流血的;屠杀的;残忍的 | |
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442 strapping | |
adj. 魁伟的, 身材高大健壮的 n. 皮绳或皮带的材料, 裹伤胶带, 皮鞭 动词strap的现在分词形式 | |
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443 interfered | |
v.干预( interfere的过去式和过去分词 );调停;妨碍;干涉 | |
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444 obsession | |
n.困扰,无法摆脱的思想(或情感) | |
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445 discriminating | |
a.有辨别能力的 | |
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446 antagonism | |
n.对抗,敌对,对立 | |
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447 exasperation | |
n.愤慨 | |
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448 abruptly | |
adv.突然地,出其不意地 | |
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449 stewed | |
adj.焦虑不安的,烂醉的v.炖( stew的过去式和过去分词 );煨;思考;担忧 | |
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450 punctuated | |
v.(在文字中)加标点符号,加标点( punctuate的过去式和过去分词 );不时打断某事物 | |
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451 shrill | |
adj.尖声的;刺耳的;v尖叫 | |
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452 giggling | |
v.咯咯地笑( giggle的现在分词 ) | |
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453 interval | |
n.间隔,间距;幕间休息,中场休息 | |
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454 sneaked | |
v.潜行( sneak的过去式和过去分词 );偷偷溜走;(儿童向成人)打小报告;告状 | |
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455 neatly | |
adv.整洁地,干净地,灵巧地,熟练地 | |
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456 stump | |
n.残株,烟蒂,讲演台;v.砍断,蹒跚而走 | |
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457 stumps | |
(被砍下的树的)树桩( stump的名词复数 ); 残肢; (板球三柱门的)柱; 残余部分 | |
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458 eucalyptus | |
n.桉树,桉属植物 | |
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459 spike | |
n.长钉,钉鞋;v.以大钉钉牢,使...失效 | |
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460 chunk | |
n.厚片,大块,相当大的部分(数量) | |
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461 deciduous | |
adj.非永久的;短暂的;脱落的;落叶的 | |
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462 sundered | |
v.隔开,分开( sunder的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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463 crouched | |
v.屈膝,蹲伏( crouch的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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464 awed | |
adj.充满敬畏的,表示敬畏的v.使敬畏,使惊惧( awe的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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465 instinctively | |
adv.本能地 | |
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466 dodged | |
v.闪躲( dodge的过去式和过去分词 );回避 | |
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467 severed | |
v.切断,断绝( sever的过去式和过去分词 );断,裂 | |
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468 stunning | |
adj.极好的;使人晕倒的 | |
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469 lithely | |
adv.柔软地,易变地 | |
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470 collapsed | |
adj.倒塌的 | |
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471 prim | |
adj.拘泥形式的,一本正经的;n.循规蹈矩,整洁;adv.循规蹈矩地,整洁地 | |
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472 decided | |
adj.决定了的,坚决的;明显的,明确的 | |
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473 mangled | |
vt.乱砍(mangle的过去式与过去分词形式) | |
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474 thigh | |
n.大腿;股骨 | |
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475 caressing | |
爱抚的,表现爱情的,亲切的 | |
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476 loomed | |
v.隐约出现,阴森地逼近( loom的过去式和过去分词 );隐约出现,阴森地逼近 | |
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477 canes | |
n.(某些植物,如竹或甘蔗的)茎( cane的名词复数 );(用于制作家具等的)竹竿;竹杖 | |
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478 reminder | |
n.提醒物,纪念品;暗示,提示 | |
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479 glumly | |
adv.忧郁地,闷闷不乐地;阴郁地 | |
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480 chattering | |
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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481 dourly | |
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482 watery | |
adj.有水的,水汪汪的;湿的,湿润的 | |
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483 mound | |
n.土墩,堤,小山;v.筑堤,用土堆防卫 | |
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484 whacked | |
a.精疲力尽的 | |
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485 sergeant | |
n.警官,中士 | |
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486 constable | |
n.(英国)警察,警官 | |
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487 skulking | |
v.潜伏,偷偷摸摸地走动,鬼鬼祟祟地活动( skulk的现在分词 ) | |
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488 scathing | |
adj.(言词、文章)严厉的,尖刻的;不留情的adv.严厉地,尖刻地v.伤害,损害(尤指使之枯萎)( scathe的现在分词) | |
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489 prying | |
adj.爱打听的v.打听,刺探(他人的私事)( pry的现在分词 );撬开 | |
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490 groaned | |
v.呻吟( groan的过去式和过去分词 );发牢骚;抱怨;受苦 | |
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491 irresistible | |
adj.非常诱人的,无法拒绝的,无法抗拒的 | |
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