His thoughts went back over yesterday. In the morning, the dead man being still unidentified, he had given Williams the man’s tie, that being the newest and most individual thing about him, and had sent him out to scour11 London. The tie, like the rest of the man’s clothes, had been obtained from a branch of a multiple business, and it was a small hope that any shop assistant would remember the individual to whom he sold the tie. Even if he did, there was no guarantee that the man remembered was their man. Faith Brothers must have sold several dozens of ties of the same pattern in London alone. But there was always that last odd chance, and Grant had seen too much of the queer unexpectedness of chance to neglect any avenue of exploration. As Williams was leaving the room an idea had occurred to him. There was that first idea of his that the man had been a salesman in some clothing business. Perhaps he did not buy his things over the counter. He might have been in the employ of Faith Brothers. “Find out,” he had said to Williams, “if any one answering the dead man’s description has been employed by any one of the branches lately. If you see or hear anything interesting at all — whether you think it is important or not — let me know.”
Left alone, he had examined the morning’s press. He had not bothered with the various accounts of the queue murder, but the rest of the news he scrutinized12 with some care, beginning with the personal column. Nothing, however, sounded an answering chord in his brain. A photograph of himself with the caption13, “Inspector14 Grant, who is in charge of the Queue Murder investigations,” caused him to frown. “Fools!” he said aloud. He had then collected and studied a list of missing persons sent in from all the police stations in Britain. Five young men were missing from various places, and the description of one, who was missing from a small Durham town, might have been that of the dead man. After a long delay, Grant had succeeded in talking on the telephone to the Durham police, only to learn that the missing man had originally been a miner and was, in the Opinion of the Durham inspector, a tough. And neither “miner” nor “tough” could be applied15 to the dead man.
The rest of the morning had been occupied with routine work — settling about the inquest and such necessary formalities. About lunchtime Williams had rung him up from the biggest branch of Faith Brothers, in the Strand16. He had had a busy but unproductive morning. Not only did no one recall such a purchaser, but no one remembered even selling such a tie. It was not one of a range that they had stocked lately. That had made him want further information about the tie itself, and he had come to the headquarters and asked to see the manager, to whom he explained the situation. The manager now suggested that if the inspector would surrender the tie for a little it should be sent to their factory at Northwood, where a list could be furnished of the destination of all consignments17 of such ties within, say, the last year. Williams now sought permission to hand over the tie to the manager.
Grant had approved his action, and while mentally commending Williams’ common sense — lots of sergeants18 would have gone on plodding19 round London because they were told to and it was their duty — thought not too hopefully of the hundred or so branches of Faith Brothers all over Scotland and England. The chances narrowed slightly, however, when Williams appeared with a fuller explanation. Ties like that, it appeared, were made up in boxes of six, each tie in the box being of a different shade though usually in the same colour scheme. It was unlikely that more than one, or at the most two, ties of the exact shade of their specimen20 had been sent to any one branch. There was therefore more hope of a salesman remembering the customer who had bought it than there would have been if the tie had been merely one of a box all the same shade. The detective part of Grant listened appreciatively while the looker-on part of him smiled over the sergeant’s fluency22 in the jargon23 of the trade. Half an hour with the manager of Faith Brothers had had the effect of studding the sergeant’s habitual24 simplicity25 of word and phrase with amazing jewels of technicality. He talked glibly26 of “lines” and “repeats” and similar profundities27, so that Grant had, through his bulk, in a queer television a vivid picture of the manager himself. But he was grateful to Williams and said so. That was part of Grant’s charm; he never forgot to say when he was pleased.
In the afternoon, having given up hope of learning anything more by it, he had sent the dagger28 to the laboratory for analysis. “Tell me anything you can about it,” he had said; and last night when he left he was still waiting for the answer. Now he stretched out an arm into the chilly29 air and grabbed at the telephone. When he got the number he had asked for, he said:
“Inspector Grant speaking. Any developments?”
No, there were no developments. Two people had viewed the body last night — two separate people — but neither had recognized it. Yes, their names and addresses had been taken and were lying on his desk now. There was also a report from the laboratory.
“Good!” said Grant, jammed the earpiece on the hook and sprang out of bed, his sense of foreboding dispelled by the clear light of reason. Over his cold bath he whistled, and all the time he was dressing30 he whistled, so that his landlady31 said to her husband, who was departing to catch an eight o’clock bus, “I’m thinking it won’t be very long now before that horrible anarchist32 is caught.” “Anarchist” and “assassin” were synonymous terms to Mrs. Field. Grant himself would not have put it so optimistically perhaps, but the thought of that sealed package waiting on his desk was to him what a lucky packet is to a small boy. It might be something of no importance and it might be a diamond. He caught Mrs. Field’s benevolent33 glance on him as she set down his breakfast, and it was like a small boy that he said to her, “This my lucky day, do you think?”
“I don’t know about luck, Mr. Grant. I don’t know as I believes in it. But I do believe in Providence34. And I don’t think Providence’ll let a nice young man like that be stabbed to death and not bring the guilty to justice. Trust in the Lord, Mr. Grant.”
“And if the clues are very thin, the Lord and the C.I.D.,” Grant misquoted at her and attacked his bacon and eggs. She lingered a moment watching him, shook her head in a gently misgiving35 way at him, and left him scanning the newspapers while he chewed.
On the way up to town he occupied himself by considering the problem of the man’s non-identification, which became momentarily more surprising. True, a few persons every year are thrown up by London to lie unclaimed for a day or two and then vanish into paupers’ graves. But they are all either old or penniless or both — the dregs of a city’s being, cast off long before their deaths by their relations and friends, and so, when the end came, beyond the ken5 of any one who might have told their story. In all Grant’s experience no one of the type of the dead man — a man who must have had the normal circle of acquaintances if not more — had remained unidentified. Even if he had been a provincial36 or a foreigner — and Grant did not think he was; the man’s whole appearance had proclaimed the Londoner — he must have had a dwelling37 in London or near it; hotel, lodgings38, or club, from which he must now be known to be missing. And the appeals from the Press that the fact of a missing person should be communicated to Scotland Yard without delay would most certainly have brought some one hurrying to report it.
Then, granted that the man was a Londoner — as Grant most heartily39 believed — why did his people or his landlord not come forward? Obviously, either because they had reason to think the dead man a bad lot, or because they themselves had no wish to attract the attention of the police. A gang? A gang getting rid of an unwanted member? But gangs didn’t wait until they got their victim into a queue before dispensing40 with his services. They chose safer methods.
Unless — yes, it might have been at once a retribution and a warning. It had had all the elements of a gesture — the weapon, the striking down of the victim while in a place of supposed safety, the whole bravado41 of the thing. It eliminated the backslider and intimidated42 the survivors43 at one and the same time. The more he considered it the more it seemed the reasonable explanation of a mystery. He had scouted44 the thought of a secret society and he still scouted it. The vengeance45 of a secret society would not prevent the man’s friends from reporting his loss and claiming him. But the defaulting member of a gang — that was a different thing. In that case all his friends would either know or guess the manner and reason of his death, and none would be fool enough to come forward.
As Grant turned into the Yard he was revising in his mind the various London gangs that flourished at the moment. Danny Miller46’s was cock of the walk, undoubtedly47, and had been so for some time. It was three years since Danny had seen the inside, and unless he made a grievous error, it would be still longer before he did. Danny had come from America after serving his second sentence for burglary, and had brought with him a clever brain, a belief in organization that was typically American — the British practitioner48 is by nature an individualist — and a wholesome49 respect for British police methods. The result was that, though his minions50 slipped occasionally and served short sentences for their carelessness, Danny went free and successful — much too successful for the liking51 of the C.I.D. Now, Danny had all the American crook’s ruthlessness in dealing52 with an enemy. His habit was a gun, but he would think no more of sticking a knife into a man than he would of swatting the fly that annoyed him. Grant thought that he would invite Danny to come and see him. Meanwhile there was the packet on his table.
Eagerly he opened it and eagerly skipped the slightly prosy unimportances with which it opened — Bretherton of the scientific side was inclined to be a pompous53 dogmatist; if you sent him a Persian cat to report on, he would spend the first sheet of foolscap in deciding that its coat was grey and not fawn54 — and picked out the salient thing. Just above the junction55 of the handle with the blade, Bretherton said, was a stain of blood which was not the blood on the blade. The base on which the saint stood was hollow and had been broken at one side. The break was merely a cut which did not gape56 and was almost invisible owing to the bloodstain. But when the surface was pressed, one edge of the rough cut was raised very slightly above the other. In gripping the tool the murderer had made the fracture in the metal gape sufficiently57 to injure his own hand. He would now be suffering from a jagged cut somewhere on the thumb side of the first finger of the left hand, or finger side of the thumb.
Good so far, thought Grant, but one can’t sift58 London for a left-handed man with a cut hand and arrest him for that. He sent for Williams.
“Do you know where Danny Miller is living now?” he asked.
“No, sir,” said Williams; “but Barber will know. He came up from Newbury last night, and he knows all about Danny.”
“All right, go and find out. No, better send Barber to me.”
When Barber came — a tall, slow man with a sleepy and misleading smile — he repeated his question.
“Danny Miller?” Barber said. “Yes, he has rooms in a house in Amber59 Street, Pimlico.”
“Oh? Been very quiet lately, hasn’t he?”
“So we thought, but I think that jewel robbery that the Gowbridge people are busy with now is Danny.”
“I thought banks were his line.”
“Yes, but he has a new ‘jane.’ He probably wants money.”
“I see. Do you know his number?”
Barber did.
An hour later, Danny, who was performing a leisurely60 and painstaking61 toilet in the room in Amber Street, was informed that Inspector Grant would be very much obliged if he would have a short talk with him at the Yard.
Danny’s pale grey, wary62 eyes surveyed the plain-clothes man who had brought the message. “If he thinks he has anything on one,” he said, “he has another guess coming.”
The plain-clothes man did not think that the inspector wanted anything but some information from him.
“Oh? And what is the inspector inspecting at the moment?”
But that the plain-clothes man either did not know or would not tell.
“All right,” said Danny. “I’ll be along right now.”
When a portly constable63 led him into Grant’s presence Danny, who was small and slim, indicated the departing one with a backward jerk of the head and a humorous lift of an eyebrow64. “It isn’t often any one troubles to announce me,” he said.
“No,” said Grant, smiling, “your presence is usually announced after your departure, isn’t it?”
“You’re a wit, Inspector. I shouldn’t have thought you’d need any one to jog your brains along. You don’t think you’ve got anything on me, do you?”
“Not at all. I thought you might be of some use to me.”
“You’re certainly flattering.” It was impossible to tell when Miller was serious or otherwise.
“Did you ever know by sight a man like this?” While he described in detail the murdered man, Grant’s eyes were examining Danny, and his brain was busy with what his eyes saw. Gloves. How could he get the glove off Danny’s left hand without deliberately65 asking for its removal?
When he came to the end of his description, particularized even to the turn-in toe, Danny said politely, “That’s the deader from the queue. No, I’m very sorry to disappoint you, Inspector, but I never saw the man in my life.”
“Well, I suppose you have no objections to coming with me and having a look at him?”
“Not if it’ll set your mind at rest, Inspector. I’ll do anything to oblige.”
The inspector put his hand into his pocket and brought it out full of coins, as if to make sure of his loose change before setting out. A sixpenny piece slid through his fingers and rolled swiftly across the smooth surface of the table towards Miller, and Miller’s hand shot out in an abrupt66 preventive movement as it was about to drop off the table’s edge to the floor. He fumbled67 for a moment with his gloved hand and then laid the coin down on the table.
“Trifling things, these,” he remarked in his flat amiable68 voice. But it was his right hand that he had used to stop it.
As they were driving down to the mortuary in a car he turned to the inspector with the almost noiseless expulsion of breath that in him did duty for a laugh. “Say,” he said, “if any of my pals69 see me now, they’ll all be boarding a dangler70 for Southampton inside five minutes and not waiting to pack.”
“Well, we’d do the packing — back,” said Grant.
“Got us all taped like that, have you? Would you bet on it? I’ll lay you five to one in dollars — no, pounds — five to one in pounds that you don’t have one of us settled inside two years. You won’t take it? Well, I think you’re wise.”
When Miller was brought face to face with the body of the murdered man, Grant’s eager eyes could trace no shadow of expression on that poker71 face. Danny’s cool grey glance wandered over the dead man’s features in a half-interested indifference72. And Grant knew certainly that, even had Miller known the man, his hope of a betraying gesture or expression had been a vain one.
“No,” Danny was saying, “I never saw the man in my —” He stopped. There was a long pause. “Say, but I did!” he said. “Oh, gosh, let me think! Where was it? Where was it? Wait a minute, and it’ll come.” He beat a hectic73 tattoo74 on his forehead with his gloved palm. Was this acting75, thought Grant? Good acting, if so. But then Miller would never make the mistake of acting badly. “Oh, gosh, I can’t get it! I talked to him, too. Don’t think I ever knew his name, but I’m sure I talked to him.”
In the end Grant gave it up — he had the inquest in front of him — but it was more than Danny Miller did. The fact that his brain had gone back on him was an outrage76 in his eyes and quite insupportable. “I never forget a man,” he kept saying, “any more than a ‘bull’ does.”
“Well, you can think it over and telephone to me,” said Grant. “Meanwhile, will you do one thing more for me? . . . Will you take your gloves off?”
Danny’s eyes shut suddenly to bright slits77. “What’s the big idea?” he said.
“Well, there isn’t any reason that you shouldn’t take them off, is there?”
“How do I know that?” snapped Danny.
“Look here,” said Grant good-naturedly, “a minute ago you wanted a gamble. Well, here’s one. If you take your gloves off, I’ll tell you whether you’ve won or not.”
“And if I lose?”
“Well, I have no warrant, you know.” And Grant smiled easily into the gimlet eyes boring into his own.
Danny’s eyelids78 lifted. His old nonchalance79 came back. He drew his right glove off and held out his hand. Grant glanced at it and nodded. Then he slipped off his left glove and extended his hand, and as he did so the right hand went back into his coat pocket.
The left hand that lay open to Grant’s gaze was clean and unscarred.
“You win, Miller,” said Grant. “You’re a sportsman.” And the slight bulge80 in Danny’s right-hand coat pocket disappeared.
“You’ll let me know the minute you have a brainwave, won’t you?” Grant said as they parted, and Miller promised.
“Don’t you worry,” he said. “I don’t let my brain go back on me and get away with it.”
And Grant made his way to lunch and the inquest.
The jury, having swallowed at one nauseating81 gulp82 the business of viewing the body, had settled into their places with that air of conscious importance and simulated modesty83 which belongs to those initiated84 into a mystery. Their verdict was already certain, therefore they had no need to worry themselves over the rights or wrongs of the case. They could give themselves up wholly to the delightful85 occupation of hearing all about the most popular murder of the day from lips of eyewitnesses86. Grant surveyed them sardonically87, and thanked the gods that neither his case nor his life depended on their intelligences. Then he forgot them and gave himself up to the rich comedy of the witnesses. It was strange to compare the grim things that fell from their lips with the pretty comedy they themselves presented. He knew them so well by now, and they all ran so amusingly true to form. There was the constable who had been on duty at the Woffington pit queue, brushed and shining, his dampish forehead shining most of all; precise in his report and tremendously gratified by his own preciseness. There was James Ratcliffe, the complete householder, hating his unexpected publicity88, rebelling against his connexion with such an unsavoury affair, but determined89 to do his duty as a citizen. He was the type that is the law’s most useful ally, and the inspector recognized the fact and mentally saluted90 him in spite of the fact that he had been unhelpful. Waiting in queues bored him, he said, and as long as the light was good enough he had read, until the doors opened and the pressure became too great to do anything but stand.
There was his wife, whom the inspector had last seen sobbing91 in her bedroom. She still clutched a handkerchief, and obviously expected to be encouraged and soothed92 after every second question. And she was subjected to a longer examination than any one else. She was the one who had stood directly behind the dead man.
“Are we to understand, madam,” said the coroner, “that you stood for nearly two hours in close proximity93 to this man and yet have no recollection of him or of his companions, if any?”
“But I wasn’t next to him all that time! I tell you I didn’t see him until he fell over at my feet.”
“Then who was next in front of you most of the time?”
“I don’t remember. I think it was a boy — a young man.”
“And what became of the young man?”
“I don’t know.”
“Did you see him leave the queue?”
“No.”
“Can you describe him?”
“Yes; he was dark and foreign-looking, rather.”
“Was he alone?”
“I don’t know. I don’t think so, somehow. I think he was talking to some one.”
“How is it that you do not remember more distinctly what occurred when it is only three nights ago?”
The shock had put everything out of her head, she said. “Besides,” she added, her gelatinous backbone94 ossified95 suddenly by the coroner’s ill-hidden scorn, “in a queue one doesn’t notice the people next one. Both I and my husband were reading most of the time.” And she dissolved into hysterical96 weeping.
Then there was the fat woman, shiny with satin and soap-and-water, recovered now from the shock and reluctance97 she had displayed at the crowded moment of the murder, and more than willing to tell her tale. Her plump red face and boot-button brown eyes radiated a grim satisfaction with her r?le. She seemed disappointed when the coroner thanked her and dismissed her in the middle of a sentence.
There was a meek98 little man, as precise in manner as the constable had been, but evidently convinced that the coroner was a man of little intelligence. When that long-suffering official said, “Yes, I was aware that queues usually go two by two,” the jury allowed themselves to snigger and the meek little man looked pained. As neither he nor the other three witnesses from the queue could recall the murdered man, or throw any light on any departure from the queue, they were dismissed with scant99 attention.
The doorkeeper, incoherent with pleasure at being so helpful, informed the coroner that he had seen the dead man before — several times. He had come quite often to the Woffington. But he knew nothing about him. He had always been well dressed. No, the doorkeeper could not recall any companion, though he was sure that the man had not habitually100 been alone.
The atmosphere of futility101 that characterized the inquest discouraged Grant. A man whom no one professed102 to know, stuck in the back by some one whom no one had seen. It was a sweet prospect103. No clue to the murder except the dagger, and that told nothing except that the man was scarred on a finger or thumb. No clue to the murdered man except that a Faith Brothers employee might have known the person to whom he sold a fawn patterned tie with faint pink splashes. When the inevitable104 verdict of murder against some person or persons unknown had been given, Grant went to a telephone revolving105 in his mind the Ratcliffe woman’s tale of a young foreigner. Was that impression a mere21 figment of her imagination, brought into being by the suggestion of the dagger? Or was it a genuine corroboration106 of his Levantine theory? Mrs. Ratcliffe’s young foreigner had not been there when the murder was discovered. He was the one who had disappeared from the queue, and the one who had disappeared from the queue had most certainly murdered the dead man.
Well, he would find out from the Yard if there was anything new, and if not he would fortify107 himself with tea. He needed it. And the slow sipping108 of tea conduced to thought. Not the painful tabulations of Barker, that prince of superintendents109, but the speculative2 revolving of things which he, Grant, found more productive. He numbered among his acquaintances a poet and essayist, who sipped110 tea in a steady monotonous111 rhythm, the while he brought to birth his masterpieces. His digestive system was in a shocking condition, but he had a very fine reputation among the more precious of the modern littérateurs.
点击
收听单词发音
收听单词发音 |
1
speculatively
|
|
| adv.思考地，思索地；投机地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
2
speculative
|
|
| adj.思索性的，暝想性的，推理的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
3
technically
|
|
| adv.专门地，技术上地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
4
chilliness
|
|
| n.寒冷，寒意，严寒 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
5
ken
|
|
| n.视野，知识领域 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
6
discomfort
|
|
| n.不舒服，不安，难过，困难，不方便 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
7
dispelled
|
|
| v.驱散，赶跑( dispel的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
8
drowsiness
|
|
| n.睡意；嗜睡 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
9
investigations
|
|
| （正式的）调查( investigation的名词复数 )； 侦查； 科学研究； 学术研究 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
10
scent
|
|
| n.气味，香味，香水，线索，嗅觉；v.嗅，发觉 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
11
scour
|
|
| v.搜索；擦，洗，腹泻，冲刷 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
12
scrutinized
|
|
| v.仔细检查，详审( scrutinize的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
13
caption
|
|
| n.说明，字幕，标题；v.加上标题，加上说明 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
14
inspector
|
|
| n.检查员，监察员，视察员 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
15
applied
|
|
| adj.应用的；v.应用，适用 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
16
strand
|
|
| vt.使（船）搁浅，使（某人）困于（某地） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
17
consignments
|
|
| n.托付货物( consignment的名词复数 )；托卖货物；寄售；托运 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
18
sergeants
|
|
| 警官( sergeant的名词复数 )； （美国警察）警佐； （英国警察）巡佐； 陆军（或空军）中士 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
19
plodding
|
|
| a.proceeding in a slow or dull way | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
20
specimen
|
|
| n.样本，标本 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
21
mere
|
|
| adj.纯粹的；仅仅，只不过 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
22
fluency
|
|
| n.流畅，雄辩，善辩 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
23
jargon
|
|
| n.术语，行话 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
24
habitual
|
|
| adj.习惯性的；通常的，惯常的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
25
simplicity
|
|
| n.简单，简易；朴素；直率，单纯 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
26
glibly
|
|
| adv.流利地，流畅地；满口 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
27
profundities
|
|
| n.深奥，深刻，深厚( profundity的名词复数 )；堂奥 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
28
dagger
|
|
| n.匕首，短剑，剑号 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
29
chilly
|
|
| adj.凉快的，寒冷的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
30
dressing
|
|
| n.(食物)调料；包扎伤口的用品，敷料 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
31
landlady
|
|
| n.女房东，女地主 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
32
anarchist
|
|
| n.无政府主义者 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
33
benevolent
|
|
| adj.仁慈的，乐善好施的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
34
providence
|
|
| n.深谋远虑，天道，天意；远见；节约；上帝 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
35
misgiving
|
|
| n.疑虑，担忧，害怕 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
36
provincial
|
|
| adj.省的，地方的；n．外省人，乡下人 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
37
dwelling
|
|
| n.住宅，住所，寓所 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
38
lodgings
|
|
| n. 出租的房舍, 寄宿舍 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
39
heartily
|
|
| adv.衷心地，诚恳地，十分，很 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
40
dispensing
|
|
| v.分配( dispense的现在分词 )；施与；配（药） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
41
bravado
|
|
| n.虚张声势，故作勇敢，逞能 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
42
intimidated
|
|
| v.恐吓；威胁adj.害怕的；受到威胁的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
43
survivors
|
|
| 幸存者，残存者，生还者( survivor的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
44
scouted
|
|
| 寻找，侦察( scout的过去式和过去分词 )； 物色（优秀运动员、演员、音乐家等） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
45
vengeance
|
|
| n.报复，报仇，复仇 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
46
miller
|
|
| n.磨坊主 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
47
undoubtedly
|
|
| adv.确实地，无疑地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
48
practitioner
|
|
| n.实践者，从事者；(医生或律师等)开业者 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
49
wholesome
|
|
| adj.适合；卫生的；有益健康的；显示身心健康的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
50
minions
|
|
| n.奴颜婢膝的仆从( minion的名词复数 )；走狗；宠儿；受人崇拜者 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
51
liking
|
|
| n.爱好；嗜好；喜欢 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
52
dealing
|
|
| n.经商方法，待人态度 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
53
pompous
|
|
| adj.傲慢的，自大的；夸大的；豪华的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
54
fawn
|
|
| n.未满周岁的小鹿；v.巴结，奉承 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
55
junction
|
|
| n.连接，接合；交叉点，接合处，枢纽站 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
56
gape
|
|
| v.张口，打呵欠，目瞪口呆地凝视 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
57
sufficiently
|
|
| adv.足够地，充分地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
58
sift
|
|
| v.筛撒，纷落，详察 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
59
amber
|
|
| n.琥珀；琥珀色；adj.琥珀制的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
60
leisurely
|
|
| adj.悠闲的；从容的，慢慢的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
61
painstaking
|
|
| adj.苦干的；艰苦的，费力的，刻苦的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
62
wary
|
|
| adj.谨慎的，机警的，小心的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
63
constable
|
|
| n.(英国)警察，警官 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
64
eyebrow
|
|
| n.眉毛，眉 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
65
deliberately
|
|
| adv.审慎地；蓄意地；故意地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
66
abrupt
|
|
| adj.突然的，意外的；唐突的，鲁莽的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
67
fumbled
|
|
| （笨拙地）摸索或处理（某事物）( fumble的过去式和过去分词 )； 乱摸，笨拙地弄； 使落下 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
68
amiable
|
|
| adj.和蔼可亲的，友善的，亲切的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
69
pals
|
|
| n.朋友( pal的名词复数 )；老兄；小子；（对男子的不友好的称呼）家伙 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
70
dangler
|
|
| 吊着晃来晃去之物，耳环，追逐女人的男人 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
|
71
poker
|
|
| n.扑克；vt.烙制 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
72
indifference
|
|
| n.不感兴趣，不关心，冷淡，不在乎 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
73
hectic
|
|
| adj.肺病的；消耗热的；发热的；闹哄哄的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
74
tattoo
|
|
| n.纹身，(皮肤上的)刺花纹；vt.刺花纹于 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
75
acting
|
|
| n.演戏，行为，假装；adj.代理的，临时的，演出用的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
76
outrage
|
|
| n.暴行，侮辱，愤怒；vt.凌辱，激怒 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
77
slits
|
|
| n.狭长的口子，裂缝( slit的名词复数 )v.切开，撕开( slit的第三人称单数 )；在…上开狭长口子 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
78
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 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
79
nonchalance
|
|
| n.冷淡，漠不关心 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
80
bulge
|
|
| n.突出，膨胀，激增；vt.突出，膨胀 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
81
nauseating
|
|
| adj.令人恶心的，使人厌恶的v.使恶心，作呕( nauseate的现在分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
82
gulp
|
|
| vt.吞咽，大口地吸（气）；vi.哽住；n.吞咽 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
83
modesty
|
|
| n.谦逊，虚心，端庄，稳重，羞怯，朴素 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
84
initiated
|
|
| n. 创始人 adj. 新加入的 vt. 开始，创始，启蒙，介绍加入 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
85
delightful
|
|
| adj.令人高兴的，使人快乐的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
86
eyewitnesses
|
|
| 目击者( eyewitness的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
87
sardonically
|
|
| adv.讽刺地，冷嘲地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
88
publicity
|
|
| n.众所周知，闻名；宣传，广告 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
89
determined
|
|
| adj.坚定的；有决心的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
90
saluted
|
|
| v.欢迎，致敬( salute的过去式和过去分词 )；赞扬，赞颂 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
91
sobbing
|
|
| <主方>Ⅰ adj.湿透的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
92
soothed
|
|
| v.安慰( soothe的过去式和过去分词 )；抚慰；使舒服；减轻痛苦 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
93
proximity
|
|
| n.接近，邻近 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
94
backbone
|
|
| n.脊骨，脊柱，骨干；刚毅，骨气 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
95
ossified
|
|
| adj.已骨化[硬化]的v.骨化，硬化，使僵化( ossify的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
96
hysterical
|
|
| adj.情绪异常激动的，歇斯底里般的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
97
reluctance
|
|
| n.厌恶，讨厌，勉强，不情愿 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
98
meek
|
|
| adj.温顺的，逆来顺受的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
99
scant
|
|
| adj.不充分的，不足的；v.减缩，限制，忽略 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
100
habitually
|
|
| ad.习惯地，通常地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
101
futility
|
|
| n.无用 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
102
professed
|
|
| 公开声称的，伪称的，已立誓信教的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
103
prospect
|
|
| n.前景，前途；景色，视野 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
104
inevitable
|
|
| adj.不可避免的，必然发生的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
105
revolving
|
|
| adj.旋转的，轮转式的；循环的v.（使）旋转( revolve的现在分词 )；细想 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
106
corroboration
|
|
| n.进一步的证实，进一步的证据 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
107
fortify
|
|
| v.强化防御，为…设防；加强，强化 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
108
sipping
|
|
| v.小口喝，呷，抿( sip的现在分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
109
superintendents
|
|
| 警长( superintendent的名词复数 )； （大楼的）管理人； 监管人； （美国）警察局长 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
110
sipped
|
|
| v.小口喝，呷，抿( sip的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
111
monotonous
|
|
| adj.单调的，一成不变的，使人厌倦的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
| 欢迎访问英文小说网 |