He had been living this way for almost a month, when, one day, just as he was about to prepare his lunch, the door bell rang. He opened it and found a man standing2 on the step with a sample case in one hand and a derby hat in the other. Homer hurriedly shut the door again.
The bell continued to ring. He put his head out of the window nearest the door to order the fellow away, but the man bowed very politely and begged for a drink of water. Homer saw that he was old and tired and thought that he looked harmless. He got a bottle of water from the icebox, then opened the door and asked him in.
“The name, sir, is Harry3 Greener,” the man announced in sing-song, stressing every other syllable4.
Homer handed him a glass of water. He swallowed it quickly, then poured himself another.
“Much obliged,” he said with an elaborate bow. “That was indeed refreshing5.”
Homer was astonished when he bowed again, did several quick jig6 steps, then let his derby hat roll down his arm. It fell to the floor. He stooped to retrieve7 it, straightening up with a jerk as though he had been kicked, then rubbed the seat of his trousers ruefully.
Homer understood that this was to amuse, so he laughed.
Harry thanked him by bowing again, but something went wrong. The exertion8 had been too much for him. His face blanched9 and he fumbled11 with his collar.
“A momentary12 indisposition,” he murmured, wondering himself whether he was acting13 or sick.
“Sit down,” Homer said.
But Harry wasn’t through with his performance. He assumed a gallant14 smile and took a few unsteady steps toward the couch, then tripped himself. He examined the carpet indignantly, made believe he had found the object that had tripped him and kicked it away. He then limped to the couch and sat down with a whistling sigh like air escaping from a toy balloon.
Homer poured more water. Harry tried to stand up, but Homer pressed him back and made him drink sitting. He drank this glass as he had the other two, in quick gulps15, then wiped his mouth with his handkerchief, imitating a man with a big mustache who had just drunk a glass of foamy16 beer.
“You are indeed kind, sir,” he said. “Never fear, some day I’ll repay you a thousandfold.”
Homer clucked.
From his pocket Harry brought out a small can and held it out for him to take.
“Compliments of the house,” he announced. “’Tis a box of Miracle Solvent17, the modern polish par1 excellence18, the polish without peer or parallel, used by all the movie stars . . . ”
He broke off his spiel with a trilling laugh.
Homer took the can.
“Thank you,” he said, trying to appear grateful. “H much is it?”
“The ordinary price, the retail19 price, is fifty cents, but you can have it for the extraordinary price of a quarter, the wholesale20 price, the price I pay at the factory.”
“A quarter?” asked Homer, habit for the moment having got the better of his timidity. “I can buy one twice that size for a quarter in the store.”
Harry knew his man.
“Take it, take it for nothing,” he said contemptuously. Homer was tricked into protesting.
“I guess maybe this is a much better polish.”
“No,” said Harry, as though he were spurning21 a bribe22. “Keep your money. I don’t want it.”
He laughed, this time bitterly.
Homer pulled out some change and offered it.
“Take it, please. You need it, I’m sure. I’ll have two cans.”
Harry had his man where he wanted him. He began to practice a variety of laughs, all of them theatrical23, like a musician tuning24 up before a concert. He finally found the right one and let himself go. It was a victim’s laugh.
“Please stop,” Homer said.
But Harry couldn’t stop. He was really sick. The last block that held him poised25 over the runway of self-pity had been knocked away and he was sliding down the chute, gaining momentum26 all the time. He jumped to his feet and began doing Harry Greener, poor Harry, honest Harry, well-meaning, humble27, deserving, a good husband, a model father, a faithful Christian28, a loyal friend.
Homer didn’t appreciate the performance in the least. He was terrified and wondered whether to phone the police. But he did nothing. He just held up his hand for Harry to stop.
At the end of his pantomime, Harry stood with his head thrown back, clutching his throat, as though waiting for the curtain to fall. Homer poured him still another glass of water. But Harry wasn’t finished. He bowed, sweeping29 his hat to his heart, then began again. He didn’t get very far this time and had to gasp30 painfully for breath. Suddenly, like a mechanical toy that had been overwound, something snapped inside of him and he began to spin through his entire repertoire31. The effort was purely32 muscular, like the dance of a paralytic33. He jigged34, juggled35 his hat, made believe he had been kicked, tripped, and shook hands with himself. He went through it all in one dizzy spasm36, then reeled to the couch and collapsed37.
He lay on the couch with his eyes closed and his chest heaving. He was even more surprised than Homer. He had put on his performance four or five times already that day and nothing like this had happened. He was really sick.
“You’ve had a fit,” Homer said when Harry opened his eyes.
As the minutes passed, Harry began to feel better and his confidence returned. He pushed all thought of sickness out of his mind and even went so far as’ to congratulate himself on having given the finest performance of his career. He should be able to get five dollars out of the big dope who was leaning over him.
“Have you any spirits in the house?” he asked weakly.
The grocer had sent Homer a bottle of port wine on approval and he went to get it. He filled a tumbler half full and handed it to Harry, who drank it in small sips38, making the faces that usually go with medicine.
Speaking slowly, as though in great pain, he then asked Homer to bring in his sample case.
“It’s on the doorstep. Somebody might steal it. The greater part of my small capital is invested in those cans of polish?”
When Homer stepped outside to obey, he saw a girl near the curb39. It was Faye Greener. She was looking at the house.
“Is my father in there?” she called out
“Mr. Greener?”
She stamped her foot.
“Tell him to get a move on, damn it. I don’t want to stay here all day.”
“He’s sick.”
The girl turned away without giving any sign that she either heard or cared.
Homer took the sample case back into the house with him. He found Harry pouring himself another drink.
“Pretty fair stuff,” he said, smacking40 his lips over it. “Pretty fair, all right, all right. Might I be so bold as to ask what you pay for a . . . ”
Homer cut him short. He didn’t approve of people who drank and wanted to get rid of him.
“Your daughter’s outside,” he said with as much firmness as he could muster41. “She wants you.”
Harry collapsed on the couch and began to breathe heavily. He was acting again.
“Don’t tell her,” he gasped42. “Don’t tell her how sick her old daddy is. She must never know.”
Homer was shocked by his hypocrisy43.
“You’re better,” he said as coldly as he could. “Why don’t you go home?”
Harry smiled to show how offended and hurt he was by the heartless attitude of his host. When Homer said nothing, his smile became one expressing boundless44 courage. He got carefully to his feet, stood erect45 for a minute, then began to sway weakly and tumbled back on the couch. “I’m faint,” he groaned46.
Once again he was surprised and frightened. He was faint.
“Get my daughter,” he gasped.
Homer found her standing at the curb with her back to the house. When he called her, she whirled and came running toward him. He watched her for a second, then went in, leaving the door unlatched.
Faye burst into the room. She ignored Homer and went straight to the couch.
“Now what in hell’s the matter?” she exploded.
“Darling daughter,” he said. “I have been badly taken, and this gentleman has been kind enough to let me rest for a moment.”
“He had a fit or something,” Homer said.
She whirled around on him so suddenly that he was startled.
“How do you do?” she said, holding her hand forward and high up.
He shook it gingerly.
“Charmed,” she said, when he mumbled47 something. She spun48 around once more.
“It’s my heart,” Harry said. “I can’t stand up.”
The little performance he put on to sell polish was familiar to her and she knew that this wasn’t part of it. When she turned to face Homer again, she looked quite tragic49. Her head, instead of being held far back, now drooped50 forward.
“Please let him rest there,” she said.
“Yes, of course.”
Homer motioned her toward a chair, then got her a match for her cigarette. He tried not to stare at her, but his good manners were wasted. Faye enjoyed being stared at.
He thought her extremely beautiful, but what affected51 him still more was her vitality52. She was taut53 and vibrant54. She was as shiny as a new spoon.
Although she was seventeen, she was dressed like a child of twelve in a white cotton dress with a blue sailor collar. Her long legs were bare and she had blue sandals on her feet.
“I’m so sorry,” she said when Homer looked at her father again.
He made a motion with his hand to show that it was nothing.
“He has a vile55 heart, poor dear,” she went on. “I’ve begged and begged him to go to a specialist, but you men are all alike.”
“Yes, he ought to go to a doctor,” Homer said.
Her odd mannerisms and artificial voice puzzled him. “What time is it?” she asked.
“About one o’clock.”
She stood up suddenly and buried both her hands in her hair at the sides of her head, making it bunch at the top in a shiny ball.
“Oh,” she gasped prettily56, “and I had a luncheon57 date.”
Still holding her hair, she turned at the waist without moving her legs, so that her snug58 dress twisted even tighter and Homer could see her dainty, arched ribs59 and little, dimpled belly60. This elaborate gesture, like all her others, was so completely meaningless, almost formal, that she seemed a dancer rather than an affected actress.
“Do you like salmon61 salad?” Homer ventured to ask.
“Salmon sal-ahde?”
She seemed to be repeating the question to her stomach. The answer was yes.
“With plenty of mayonnaise, huh? I adore it.”
“I was going to have some for lunch. I’ll finish making it.”
“Let me help.”
They looked at Harry, who appeared to be asleep, then went into the kitchen. While he opened a can of salmon, she climbed on a chair and straddled it with her arms folded across the top of its back and rested her chin on her arms. Whenever he looked at her, she smiled intimately and tossed her pale, glittering hair first forward, then back.
Homer was excited and his hands worked quickly. He soon had a large bowl of salad ready. He set the table with his best cloth and his best silver and china.
“It makes me hungry just to look,” she said.
The way she said this seemed to mean that it was Homer who made her hungry and he beamed at her. But before he had a chance to sit down, she was already eating. She buttered a slice of bread, covered the butter with sugar and took a big bite. Then she quickly smeared64 a gob of mayonnaise on the salmon and went to work. Just as he was about to sit down, she asked for something to drink. He poured her a glass of milk and stood watching her like a waiter. He was unaware65 of her rudeness.
As soon as she had gobbled up her salad, he brought her a large red apple. She ate the fruit more slowly, nibbling66 daintily, her smallest finger curled away from the rest of her hand. When she had finished it, she went back to the living room and Homer followed her.
Harry still lay as they had left him, stretched out on the sofa. The heavy noon-day sun hit directly on his face, beating down on him like a club. He hardly felt its blows, however. He was busy with the stabbing pain in his chest. He was so busy with himself that he had even stopped trying to plan how to get money out of the big dope.
Homer drew the window curtain to shade his face.
Harry didn’t even notice. He was thinking about death. Faye bent67 over him. He saw, from under his partially68 closed eyelids69, that she expected him to make a reassuring70 gesture. He refused. He examined the tragic expression that she had assumed and didn’t like it. In a serious moment like this, her ham sorrow was insulting.
“Speak to me, Daddy,” she begged.
She was baiting him without being aware of it.
“What the hell is this,” he snarled71, “a Tom show?”
His sudden fury scared her and she straightened up with a jerk. He didn’t want to laugh, but a short bark escaped before he could stop it. He waited anxiously to see what would happen. When it didn’t hurt he laughed again. He kept on, timidly at first, then with growing assurance. He laughed with his eyes closed and the sweat pouring down his brow. Faye knew only one way to stop him and that was to do something he hated as much as she hated his laughter. She began to sing.
“Jeepers Creepers! Where’d ya get those peepers? . . . ”
She trucked, jerking her buttocks and shaking her head from side to side.
Homer was amazed. He felt that the scene he was witnessing had been rehearsed. He was right. Their bitterest quarrels often took this form; he laughing, she singing.
“Jeepers Creepers! Where’d ya get those eyes? Gosh, all git up! How’d they get so lit up? Gosh all git . . . ”
When Harry stopped, she stopped and flung herself into a chair. But Harry was only gathering72 strength for a final effort. He began again. This new laugh was not critical; it was horrible. When she was a child, he used to punish her with it. It was his masterpiece. There was a director who always called on him to give it when he was shooting a scene in an insane asylum73 or a haunted castle.
It began with a sharp, metallic74 crackle, like burning sticks, then gradually increased in volume until it became a rapid bark, then fell away again to an obscene chuckle75. After a slight pause, it climbed until it was the nicker of a horse, then still higher to become a machinelike screech76.
Faye listened helplessly with her head cocked on one side. Suddenly, she too laughed, not willingly, but fighting the sound.
She leaped to the couch, grabbed him by the shoulders and tried to shake him quiet.
He kept laughing.
Homer moved as though he meant to pull her away, but he lost courage and was afraid to touch her. She was so naked under her skimpy dress.
“Miss Greener,” he pleaded, making his big hands dance at the end of his arms. “Please, please . . . ”
Harry couldn’t stop laughing now. He pressed his belly with his hands, but the noise poured out of him. It had begun to hurt again.
Swinging her hand as though it held a hammer, she brought her fist down hard on his mouth. She hit him only once. He relaxed and was quiet.
“I had to do it,” she said to Homer when he took her arm and led her away.
He guided her to a chair in the kitchen and shut the door. She continued to sob78 for a long time. He stood behind her chair, helplessly, watching the rhythmical79 heave of her shoulders. Several times his hands moved forward to comfort her, but he succeeded in curbing80 them.
When she was through crying, he handed her a napkin and she dried her face. The cloth was badly stained by her rouge81 and mascara.
“I’ve spoilt it,” she said, keeping her face averted82. “I’m very sorry.”
“It was dirty,” Homer said.
She took a compact from her pocket and looked at herself in its tiny mirror.
“I’m a fright.”
She asked if she could use the bathroom and he showed her where it was. He then tiptoed into the living room to see Harry. The old man’s breathing was noisy but regular and he seemed to be sleeping quietly. Homer put a cushion under his head without disturbing him and went back into the kitchen. He lit the stove and put the coffeepot on the flame, then sat down to wait for the girl to return: He heard her go into the living room. A few seconds later she came into the kitchen.
She hesitated apologetically in the doorway83.
“Won’t you have some coffee?”
Without waiting for her to reply, he poured a cup and moved the sugar and cream so that she could reach them. “I had to do it,” she said. “I just had to.”
“That’s all right.”
To show her that it wasn’t necessary to apologize, he busied himself at the sink.
“No, I had to,” she insisted. “He laughs that way just to drive me wild. I can’t stand it. I simply can’t.”
“Yes.”
“He’s crazy. We Greeners are all crazy.”
She made this last statement as though there were merit in being crazy.
“He’s pretty sick,” Homer said, apologizing for her. “Maybe he had a sunstroke.”
“No, he’s crazy.”
He put a plate of gingersnaps on the table and she ate them with her second cup of coffee. The dainty crunching84 sound she made chewing fascinated him.
When she remained quiet for several minutes, he turned from the sink to see if anything was wrong. She was smoking a cigarette and seemed lost in thought.
He tried to be gay.
“What are you thinking?” he said awkwardly, then felt foolish.
She sighed to show how dark and foreboding her thoughts were, but didn’t reply.
“I’ll bet you would like some candy,” Homer said. “There isn’t any in the house, but I could call the drugstore and they’d send it right over. Or some ice cream?”
“No, thanks, please.”
“It’s no trouble.”
“My father isn’t really a peddler,” she said, abruptly85. “He’s an actor. I’m an actress. My mother was also an actress, a dancer. The theatre is in our blood.”
“I haven’t seen many shows. I . . . ”
He broke off because he saw that she wasn’t interested. “I’m going to be a star some day,” she announced as though daring him to contradict her.
I’m sure you . . .
“It’s my life. It’s the only thing in the whole world that I want.”
“It’s good to know what you want. I used to be a bookkeeper in a hotel, but . . . ”
“If I’m not, I’ll commit suicide.”
She stood up and put her hands to her hair, opened her eyes wide and frowned.
“I don’t go to shows very often,” he apologized, pushing the gingersnaps toward her. “The lights hurt my eyes.” She laughed and took a cracker86.
“I’ll get fat.”
“Oh, no.”
“They say fat women are going to be popular next year. Do you think so? I don’t. It’s just publicity87 for Mae West.” He agreed with her.
She talked on and on, endlessly, about herself and about the picture business. He watched her, but didn’t listen, and whenever she repeated a question in order to get a reply, he nodded his head without saying anything.
His hands began to bother him. He rubbed them against the edge of the table to relieve their itch62, but it only stimulated88 them. When he clasped them behind his back, the strain became intolerable. They were hot and swollen89. Using the dishes as an excuse, he held them under the cold water tap of the sink.
Faye was still talking when Harry appeared in the doorway. He leaned weakly against the door jamb. His nose was very red, but the rest of his face was drained white and he seemed to have grown too small for his clothing. He was smiling, however.
To Homer’s amazement90, they greeted each other as though nothing had happened.
“You okay now, Pop?”
“Fine and dandy, baby. Right as rain, fit as a fiddle91 and lively as a flea92, as the feller says.”
The nasal twang he used in imitation of a country yokel93 made Homer smile.
“Do you want something to eat?” he asked. “A glass of milk, maybe?”
“I could do with a snack.”
Faye helped him over to the table. He tried to disguise how weak he was by doing an exaggerated Negro shuffle94. Homer opened a can of sardines95 and sliced some bread. Harry smacked96 his lips over the food, but ate slowly and with an effort.
“That hit the spot, all righty right,” he said when he had finished.
He leaned back and fished a crumpled97 cigar butt63 out of his vest pocket. Faye lit it for him and he playfully blew a puff98 of smoke in her face.
“We’d better go, Daddy,” she said.
“In a jiffy, child.”
He turned to Homer.
“Nice place you’ve got here. Married?”
“Dad!”
He ignored her.
“Bachelor, eh?”
“Yes.”
“Well, well, a young fellow like you.”
“I’m here for my health,” Homer found it necessary to say.
“Don’t answer his questions,” Faye broke in.
“Now, now, daughter, I’m just being friendly like. I don’t mean no harm.”
He was still using an exaggerated backwoods accent. He spat100 dry into an imaginary spittoon and made believe he was shifting a cud of tobacco from cheek to cheek.
Homer thought his mimicry101 funny.
“I’d be lonesome and scared living alone in a big house like this,” Harry went on. “Don’t you ever get lonesome?”
Homer looked at Faye for his answer. She was frowning with annoyance102.
“No,” he said, to prevent Harry from repeating the uncomfortable question.
“No? Well, that’s fine.”
He blew several smoke rings at the ceiling and watched their behavior judiciously103.
“Did you ever think of taking boarders?” he asked.
“Some nice, sociable104 folks, I mean. It’ll bring in a little extra money and make things more homey.”
Homer was indignant, but underneath105 his indignation lurked106 another idea, a very exciting one. He didn’t know what to say.
Faye misunderstood his agitation107.
“Cut it out, Dad,” she exclaimed before Homer could reply. “You’ve been a big enough nuisance already.”
“Just chinning,” he protested innocently. “Just chewin’ the fat.”
“Well, then, let’s get going,” she snapped.
“There’s plenty of time,” Homer said.
He wanted to add something stronger, but didn’t have the courage. His hands were braver. When Faye shook good-bye, they clutched and refused to let go.
Faye laughed at their warm insistence108.
“Thanks a million, Mr. Simpson,” she said. “You’ve been very kind. Thanks for the lunch and for helping109 Daddy.”
“We’re very grateful,” Harry chimed in. “You’ve done a Christian deed this day. God will reward you.”
He had suddenly become very pious110.
“Please look us up,” Faye said. “We live close-by in the San Berdoo Apartments, about five blocks down the canyon111. It’s the big yellow house.”
When Harry stood, he had to lean against the table for support. Faye and Homer each took him by the arm and helped him into the street. Homer held him erect, while Faye went to get their Ford112 which was parked across the street.
“We’re forgetting your order of Miracle Salve,” Harry said, “the polish without peer or parallel.”
Homer found a dollar and slipped it into his hand. He hid the money quickly and tried to become businesslike.
“I’ll leave the goods tomorrow.”
“Yes, that’ll be fine,” Homer said. “I really need some silver polish.”
Harry was angry because it hurt him to be patronized by a sucker. He made an attempt to re-establish what he considered to be their proper relationship by bowing ironically, but didn’t get very far with the gesture and began to fumble10 with his Adam’s apple. Homer helped him into the car and he slumped113 down in the seat beside Faye. They drove off. She turned to wave, but Harry didn’t even look back.
收听单词发音 |
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par
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| n.标准，票面价值，平均数量；adj.票面的，平常的，标准的 | |
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standing
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| n.持续，地位；adj.永久的，不动的，直立的，不流动的 | |
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harry
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| vt.掠夺，蹂躏，使苦恼 | |
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syllable
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| n.音节；vt.分音节 | |
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refreshing
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| adj.使精神振作的，使人清爽的，使人喜欢的 | |
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jig
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| n.快步舞（曲）；v.上下晃动；用夹具辅助加工；蹦蹦跳跳 | |
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retrieve
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| vt.重新得到，收回；挽回，补救；检索 | |
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exertion
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| n.尽力，努力 | |
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blanched
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| v.使变白( blanch的过去式 )；使（植物）不见阳光而变白；酸洗（金属）使有光泽；用沸水烫（杏仁等）以便去皮 | |
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fumble
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| vi.笨拙地用手摸、弄、接等，摸索 | |
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fumbled
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| （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 | |
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momentary
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| adj.片刻的，瞬息的；短暂的 | |
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acting
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| n.演戏，行为，假装；adj.代理的，临时的，演出用的 | |
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gallant
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| adj.英勇的，豪侠的；(向女人)献殷勤的 | |
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gulps
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| n.一大口（尤指液体）( gulp的名词复数 )v.狼吞虎咽地吃，吞咽( gulp的第三人称单数 )；大口地吸（气）；哽住 | |
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foamy
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| adj.全是泡沫的，泡沫的，起泡沫的 | |
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solvent
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| n.溶剂；adj.有偿付能力的 | |
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excellence
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| n.优秀，杰出，(pl.)优点，美德 | |
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retail
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| v./n.零售；adv.以零售价格 | |
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wholesale
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| n.批发；adv.以批发方式；vt.批发，成批出售 | |
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spurning
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| v.一脚踢开，拒绝接受( spurn的现在分词 ) | |
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bribe
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| n.贿赂；v.向…行贿，买通 | |
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theatrical
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| adj.剧场的，演戏的；做戏似的，做作的 | |
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tuning
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| n.调谐，调整，调音v.调音( tune的现在分词 )；调整；（给收音机、电视等）调谐；使协调 | |
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poised
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| a.摆好姿势不动的 | |
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momentum
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| n.动力，冲力，势头；动量 | |
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humble
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| adj.谦卑的，恭顺的；地位低下的；v.降低，贬低 | |
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Christian
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| adj.基督教徒的；n.基督教徒 | |
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sweeping
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| adj.范围广大的，一扫无遗的 | |
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gasp
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| n.喘息，气喘；v.喘息；气吁吁他说 | |
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repertoire
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| n.(准备好演出的)节目，保留剧目；(计算机的)指令表，指令系统， <美>(某个人的)全部技能；清单，指令表 | |
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32
purely
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| adv.纯粹地，完全地 | |
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33
paralytic
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| adj. 瘫痪的 n. 瘫痪病人 | |
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34
jigged
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| v.（使）上下急动( jig的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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35
juggled
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| v.歪曲( juggle的过去式和过去分词 )；耍弄；有效地组织；尽力同时应付（两个或两个以上的重要工作或活动） | |
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36
spasm
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| n.痉挛，抽搐；一阵发作 | |
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37
collapsed
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| adj.倒塌的 | |
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38
sips
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| n.小口喝，一小口的量( sip的名词复数 )v.小口喝，呷，抿( sip的第三人称单数 ) | |
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39
curb
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| n.场外证券市场，场外交易；vt.制止，抑制 | |
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40
smacking
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| 活泼的，发出响声的，精力充沛的 | |
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41
muster
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| v.集合，收集，鼓起，激起；n.集合，检阅，集合人员，点名册 | |
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42
gasped
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| 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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43
hypocrisy
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| n.伪善，虚伪 | |
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44
boundless
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| adj.无限的；无边无际的；巨大的 | |
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45
erect
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| n./v.树立，建立，使竖立；adj.直立的，垂直的 | |
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46
groaned
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| v.呻吟( groan的过去式和过去分词 )；发牢骚；抱怨；受苦 | |
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47
mumbled
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| 含糊地说某事，叽咕，咕哝( mumble的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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48
spun
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| v.纺，杜撰，急转身 | |
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49
tragic
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| adj.悲剧的，悲剧性的，悲惨的 | |
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50
drooped
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| 弯曲或下垂，发蔫( droop的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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51
affected
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| adj.不自然的，假装的 | |
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52
vitality
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| n.活力，生命力，效力 | |
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53
taut
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| adj.拉紧的，绷紧的，紧张的 | |
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54
vibrant
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| adj.震颤的，响亮的，充满活力的，精力充沛的，(色彩)鲜明的 | |
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vile
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| adj.卑鄙的，可耻的，邪恶的；坏透的 | |
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56
prettily
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| adv.优美地；可爱地 | |
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57
luncheon
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| n.午宴，午餐，便宴 | |
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58
snug
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| adj.温暖舒适的，合身的，安全的；v.使整洁干净，舒适地依靠，紧贴；n.（英）酒吧里的私房 | |
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59
ribs
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| n.肋骨( rib的名词复数 )；（船或屋顶等的）肋拱；肋骨状的东西；（织物的）凸条花纹 | |
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60
belly
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| n.肚子，腹部；(像肚子一样)鼓起的部分，膛 | |
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61
salmon
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| n.鲑，大马哈鱼，橙红色的 | |
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itch
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| n.痒，渴望，疥癣；vi.发痒，渴望 | |
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63
butt
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| n.笑柄；烟蒂；枪托；臀部；v.用头撞或顶 | |
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64
smeared
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| 弄脏； 玷污； 涂抹； 擦上 | |
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unaware
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| a.不知道的，未意识到的 | |
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nibbling
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| v.啃，一点一点地咬（吃）( nibble的现在分词 )；啃出（洞），一点一点咬出（洞）；慢慢减少；小口咬 | |
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bent
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| n.爱好，癖好；adj.弯的；决心的，一心的 | |
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partially
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| adv.部分地，从某些方面讲 | |
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eyelids
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| n.眼睑( eyelid的名词复数 )；眼睛也不眨一下；不露声色；面不改色 | |
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reassuring
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| a.使人消除恐惧和疑虑的，使人放心的 | |
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snarled
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| v.（指狗）吠，嗥叫， （人）咆哮( snarl的过去式和过去分词 )；咆哮着说，厉声地说 | |
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72
gathering
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| n.集会，聚会，聚集 | |
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73
asylum
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| n.避难所，庇护所，避难 | |
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metallic
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| adj.金属的；金属制的；含金属的；产金属的；像金属的 | |
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75
chuckle
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| vi.／n.轻声笑，咯咯笑 | |
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76
screech
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| n./v.尖叫；(发出)刺耳的声音 | |
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bastard
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| n.坏蛋，混蛋；私生子 | |
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78
sob
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| n.空间轨道的轰炸机；呜咽，哭泣 | |
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79
rhythmical
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| adj.有节奏的，有韵律的 | |
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80
curbing
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| n.边石，边石的材料v.限制，克制，抑制( curb的现在分词 ) | |
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81
rouge
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| n.胭脂，口红唇膏；v.(在…上)擦口红 | |
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82
averted
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| 防止，避免( avert的过去式和过去分词 )； 转移 | |
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83
doorway
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| n.门口，(喻)入门；门路，途径 | |
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84
crunching
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| v.嘎吱嘎吱地咬嚼( crunch的现在分词 )；嘎吱作响；（快速大量地）处理信息；数字捣弄 | |
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85
abruptly
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| adv.突然地，出其不意地 | |
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86
cracker
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| n.（无甜味的）薄脆饼干 | |
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87
publicity
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| n.众所周知，闻名；宣传，广告 | |
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88
stimulated
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| a.刺激的 | |
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89
swollen
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| adj.肿大的，水涨的；v.使变大，肿胀 | |
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90
amazement
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| n.惊奇，惊讶 | |
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91
fiddle
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| n.小提琴；vi.拉提琴；不停拨弄，乱动 | |
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92
flea
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| n.跳蚤 | |
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93
yokel
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| n.乡下人；农夫 | |
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94
shuffle
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| n.拖著脚走，洗纸牌；v.拖曳，慢吞吞地走 | |
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95
sardines
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| n. 沙丁鱼 | |
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96
smacked
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| 拍，打，掴( smack的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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97
crumpled
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| adj. 弯扭的, 变皱的 动词crumple的过去式和过去分词形式 | |
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98
puff
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| n.一口(气)；一阵(风)；v.喷气，喘气 | |
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99
interfere
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| v.(in)干涉，干预；(with)妨碍，打扰 | |
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100
spat
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| n.口角，掌击；v.发出呼噜呼噜声 | |
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101
mimicry
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| n.（生物）拟态，模仿 | |
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102
annoyance
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| n.恼怒，生气，烦恼 | |
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103
judiciously
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| adv.明断地，明智而审慎地 | |
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104
sociable
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| adj.好交际的，友好的，合群的 | |
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105
underneath
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| adj.在...下面，在...底下；adv.在下面 | |
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106
lurked
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| vi.潜伏，埋伏（lurk的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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107
agitation
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| n.搅动；搅拌；鼓动，煽动 | |
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108
insistence
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| n.坚持；强调；坚决主张 | |
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109
helping
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| n.食物的一份&adj.帮助人的，辅助的 | |
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110
pious
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| adj.虔诚的；道貌岸然的 | |
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111
canyon
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| n.峡谷，溪谷 | |
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112
Ford
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| n.浅滩，水浅可涉处；v.涉水，涉过 | |
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113
slumped
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| 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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