IDinner was drawing to a close.
The food had been good, the wine perfect. Rogers waited well.
Every one was in better spirits. They had begun to talk to each otherwith more freedom and intimacy1.
Mr Justice Wargrave, mellowed2 by the excellent port, was being amus-ing in a caustic3 fashion, Dr Armstrong and Tony Marston were listening tohim. Miss Brent chatted to General Macarthur, they had discovered somemutual friends. Vera Claythorne was asking Mr Davis intelligent questionsabout South Africa. Mr Davis was quite fluent on the subject. Lombardlistened to the conversation. Once or twice he looked up quickly, and hiseyes narrowed. Now and then his eyes played round the table, studyingthe others.
Anthony Marston said suddenly:
‘Quaint, these things, aren’t they?’
In the centre of the round table, on a circular glass stand, were somelittle china figures.
‘Soldiers,’ said Tony. ‘Soldier Island. I suppose that’s the idea.’
Vera leaned forward.
‘I wonder. How many are there? Ten?’
‘Yes—ten there are.’
Vera cried:
‘What fun! They’re the ten little soldier boys of the nursery rhyme, I sup-pose. In my bedroom the rhyme is framed and hung up over the mantel-piece.’
Lombard said:
‘In my room, too.’
‘And mine.’
‘And mine.’
Everybody joined in the chorus. Vera said:
‘It’s an amusing idea, isn’t it?’
Mr Justice Wargrave grunted5:
‘Remarkably childish,’ and helped himself to port.
Emily Brent looked at Vera Claythorne. Vera Claythorne looked at MissBrent. The two women rose.
In the drawing-room the French windows were open on to the terraceand the sound of the sea murmuring against the rocks came up to them.
Emily Brent said, ‘Pleasant sound.’
Vera said sharply, ‘I hate it.’
Miss Brent’s eyes looked at her in surprise. Vera flushed. She said, morecomposedly:
‘I don’t think this place would be very agreeable in a storm.’
Emily Brent agreed.
‘I’ve no doubt the house is shut up in winter,’ she said. ‘You’d never getservants to stay here for one thing.’
Vera murmured:
‘It must be difficult to get servants anyway.’
Emily Brent said:
‘Mrs Oliver has been lucky to get these two. The woman’s a good cook.’
Vera thought:
‘Funny how elderly people always get names wrong.’
She said:
‘Yes, I think Mrs Owen has been very lucky indeed.’
Emily Brent had brought a small piece of embroidery6 out of her bag.
Now, as she was about to thread her needle, she paused.
She said sharply:
‘Owen? Did you say Owen?’
‘Yes.’
Emily Brent said sharply:
‘I’ve never met anyone called Owen in my life.’
Vera stared.
‘But surely—’
She did not finish her sentence. The door opened and the men joinedthem. Rogers followed them into the room with the coffee tray.
The judge came and sat down by Emily Brent. Armstrong came up toVera. Tony Marston strolled to the open window. Blore studied with na?vesurprise a statuette in brass—wondering perhaps if its bizarre angularitieswere really supposed to be the female figure. General Macarthur stoodwith his back to the mantelpiece. He pulled at his little white moustache.
That had been a damned good dinner! His spirits were rising. Lombardturned over the pages of Punch that lay with other papers on a table by thewall.
Rogers went round with the coffee tray. The coffee was good—reallyblack and very hot.
The whole party had dined well. They were satisfied with themselvesand with life. The hands of the clock pointed7 to twenty minutes past nine.
There was a silence—a comfortable replete8 silence.
Into that silence came The Voice. Without warning, inhuman9, penetrat-ing…
‘Ladies and gentlemen! Silence please!’
Everyone was startled. They looked round—at each other, at the walls.
Who was speaking?
The Voice went on—a high clear voice:
‘You are charged with the following indictments10:
‘Edward George Armstrong, that you did upon the 14th day of March, 1925,cause the death of Louisa Mary Clees.
‘Emily Caroline Brent, that upon the 5th of November, 1931, you were re-sponsible for the death of Beatrice Taylor.
‘William Henry Blore, that you brought about the death of James StephenLandor on October 10th, 1928.
‘Vera Elizabeth Claythorne, that on the 11th day of August, 1935, you killedCyril Ogilvie Hamilton.
‘Philip Lombard, that upon a date in February, 1932, you were guilty of thedeath of twenty-one men, members of an East African tribe.
‘John Gordon Macarthur, that on the 4th of January, 1917, you deliberatelysent your wife’s lover, Arthur Richmond, to his death.
‘Anthony James Marston, that upon the 14th day of November last, youwere guilty of the murder of John and Lucy Combes.
‘Thomas Rogers and Ethel Rogers, that on the 6th of May, 1929, youbrought about the death of Jennifer Brady.
‘Lawrence John Wargrave, that upon the 10th day of June, 1930, you wereguilty of the murder of Edward Seton.
‘Prisoners at the bar, have you anything to say in your defence?’
II
The voice had stopped.
There was a moment’s petrified11 silence and then a resounding12 crash!
Rogers had dropped the coffee tray!
At the same moment, from somewhere outside the room there came ascream and the sound of a thud.
Lombard was the first to move. He leapt to the door and flung it open.
Outside, lying in a huddled13 mass, was Mrs Rogers.
Lombard called:
‘Marston.’
Anthony sprang to help him. Between them, they lifted up the womanand carried her into the drawing-room.
Dr Armstrong came across quickly. He helped them to lift her on to thesofa and bent14 over her. He said quickly:
‘It’s nothing. She’s fainted, that’s all. She’ll be round in a minute.’
Lombard said to Rogers:
‘Get some brandy.’
Rogers, his face white, his hands shaking, murmured:
‘Yes, sir,’ and slipped quickly out of the room.
Vera cried out:
‘Who was that speaking? Where was he? It sounded—it sounded—’
General Macarthur spluttered out:
‘What’s going on here? What kind of a practical joke was that?’
His hand was shaking. His shoulders sagged15. He looked suddenly tenyears older.
Blore was mopping his face with a handkerchief.
Only Mr Justice Wargrave and Miss Brent seemed comparatively un-moved. Emily Brent sat upright, her head held high. In both cheeks was aspot of hard colour. The judge sat in his habitual16 pose, his head sunk downinto his neck. With one hand he gently scratched his ear. Only his eyeswere active, darting17 round and round the room, puzzled, alert with intelli-gence.
Again it was Lombard who acted. Armstrong being busy with the col-lapsed woman, Lombard was free once more to take the initiative.
He said:
‘That voice? It sounded as though it were in the room.’
Vera cried:
‘Who was it? Who was it? It wasn’t one of us.’
Like the judge, Lombard’s eyes wandered slowly round the room. Theyrested a minute on the open window, then he shook his head decisively.
Suddenly his eyes lighted up. He moved forward swiftly to where a doornear the fireplace led into an adjoining room.
With a swift gesture, he caught the handle and flung the door open. Hepassed through and immediately uttered an exclamation18 of satisfaction.
He said:
‘Ah, here we are.’
The others crowded after him. Only Miss Brent remained alone sittingerect in her chair.
Inside the second room a table had been brought up close to the wallwhich adjoined the drawing-room. On the table was a gramophone—anold-fashioned type with a large trumpet19 attached. The mouth of the trum-pet was against the wall, and Lombard, pushing it aside indicated wheretwo or three small holes had been unobtrusively bored through the wall.
Adjusting the gramophone he replaced the needle on the record and im-mediately they heard again ‘You are charged with the following indictments—’
Vera cried:
‘Turn it off! Turn it off! It’s horrible!’
Lombard obeyed.
Dr Armstrong said, with a sigh of relief:
‘A disgraceful and heartless practical joke, I suppose.’
The small clear voice of Mr Justice Wargrave murmured:
‘So you think it’s a joke, do you?’
The doctor stared at him.
‘What else could it be?’
The hand of the judge gently stroked his upper lip.
He said:
‘At the moment I’m not prepared to give an opinion.’
Anthony Marston broke in. He said:
‘Look here, there’s one thing you’ve forgotten. Who the devil turned thething on and set it going?’
Wargrave murmured:
‘Yes, I think we must inquire into that.’
He led the way back into the drawing-room. The others followed.
Rogers had just come in with a glass of brandy. Miss Brent was bendingover the moaning form of Mrs Rogers.
Adroitly20 Rogers slipped between the two women.
‘Allow me, Madam, I’ll speak to her. Ethel—Ethel—it’s all right. All right,do you hear? Pull yourself together.’
Mrs Rogers’ breath came in quick gasps21. Her eyes, staring frightenedeyes, went round and round the ring of faces. There was urgency in Ro-gers’ tone.
‘Pull yourself together, Ethel.’
Dr Armstrong spoke22 to her soothingly23:
‘You’ll be all right now, Mrs Rogers. Just a nasty turn.’ She said:
‘Did I faint, sir?’
‘Yes.’
‘It was the voice—that awful voice—like a judgment—’
Her face turned green again, her eyelids24 fluttered.
Dr Armstrong said sharply:
‘Where’s that brandy?’
Rogers had put it down on a little table. Someone handed it to the doctorand he bent over the gasping25 woman with it.
‘Drink this, Mrs Rogers.’
She drank, choking a little and gasping. The spirit did her good. The col-our returned to her face. She said:
‘I’m all right now. It just—gave me a turn.’
Rogers said quickly:
‘Of course it did. It gave me a turn, too. Fair made me drop that tray.
Wicked lies, it was! I’d like to know—’
He was interrupted. It was only a cough—a dry little cough but it hadthe effect of stopping him in full cry. He stared at Mr Justice Wargrave andthe latter coughed again. Then he said:
‘Who put on that record on the gramophone. Was it you, Rogers?’
Rogers cried:
‘I didn’t know what it was. Before God, I didn’t know what it was, sir. If Ihad I’d never have done it.’
The judge said dryly:
‘That is probably true. But I think you’d better explain, Rogers.’
The butler wiped his face with a handkerchief. He said earnestly:
‘I was just obeying orders, sir, that’s all.’
‘Whose orders?’
‘Mr Owen’s.’
Mr Justice Wargrave said:
‘Let me get this quite clear. Mr Owen’s orders were—what exactly?’
Rogers said:
‘I was to put a record on the gramophone. I’d find the record in thedrawer and my wife was to start the gramophone when I’d gone into thedrawing-room with the coffee tray.’
The judge murmured:
‘A very remarkable26 story.’
Rogers cried:
‘It’s the truth, sir. I swear to God it’s the truth. I didn’t know what it was—not for a moment. It had a name on it—I thought it was just a piece ofmusic.’
Wargrave looked at Lombard.
‘Was there a title on it?’
Lombard nodded. He grinned suddenly, showed his white pointed teeth.
He said:
‘Quite right, sir. It was entitled Swan Song…’
III
General Macarthur broke out suddenly. He exclaimed:
‘The whole thing is preposterous—preposterous! Slinging27 accusationsabout like this! Something must be done about it. This fellow Owen who-ever he is—’
Emily Brent interrupted. She said sharply:
‘That’s just it, who is he?’
The judge interposed. He spoke with the authority that a lifetime in thecourts had given him. He said:
‘That is exactly what we must go into very carefully. I should suggestthat you get your wife to bed first of all, Rogers. Then come back here.’
‘Yes, sir.’
Dr Armstrong said:
‘I’ll give you a hand, Rogers.’
Leaning on the two men, Mrs Rogers tottered29 out of the room. Whenthey had gone Tony Marston said:
‘Don’t know about you, sir, but I could do with a drink.’
Lombard said:
‘I agree.’
Tony said:
‘I’ll go and forage30.’
He went out of the room.
He returned a second or two later.
‘Found them all waiting on a tray outside ready to be brought in.’
He set down his burden carefully. The next minute or two was spent indispensing drinks. General Macarthur had a stiff whisky and so did thejudge. Every one felt the need of a stimulant31. Only Emily Brent demandedand obtained a glass of water.
Dr Armstrong re-entered the room.
‘She’s all right,’ he said. ‘I’ve given her a sedative32 to take. What’s that, adrink? I could do with one.’
Several of the men refilled their glasses. A moment or two later Rogersre-entered the room.
Mr Justice Wargrave took charge of the proceedings33. The room becamean impromptu34 court of law.
The judge said:
‘Now then, Rogers, we must get to the bottom of this. Who is this MrOwen?’
Rogers stared.
‘He owns this place, sir.’
‘I am aware of that fact. What I want you to tell me is what you yourselfknow about the man.’
Rogers shook his head.
‘I can’t say, sir. You see, I’ve never seen him.’
There was a faint stir in the room.
General Macarthur said:
‘You’ve never seen him? What d’yer mean?’
‘We’ve only been here just under a week, sir, my wife and I. We wereengaged by letter, through an agency. The Regina Agency in Plymouth.’
Blore nodded.
‘Old established firm,’ he volunteered.
Wargrave said:
‘Have you got that letter?’
‘The letter engaging us? No, sir. I didn’t keep it.’
‘Go on with your story. You were engaged, as you say, by letter.’
‘Yes, sir. We were to arrive on a certain day. We did. Everything was inorder here. Plenty of food in stock and everything very nice. Just neededdusting and that.’
‘What next?’
‘Nothing, sir. We got orders—by letter again—to prepare the rooms for ahouse-party, and then yesterday by the afternoon post I got another letterfrom Mr Owen. It said he and Mrs Owen were detained and to do the bestwe could, and it gave the instructions about dinner and coffee and puttingon the gramophone record.’
The judge said sharply:
‘Surely you’ve got that letter?’
‘Yes, sir, I’ve got it here.’
He produced it from a pocket. The judge took it.
‘H’m,’ he said. ‘Headed Ritz Hotel and typewritten.’
With a quick movement Blore was beside him.
He said:
‘If you’ll just let me have a look.’
He twitched35 it out of the other’s hand, and ran his eye over it. He mur-mured:
‘Coronation machine. Quite new—no defects. Ensign paper—the mostwidely used make. You won’t get anything out of that. Might be finger-prints, but I doubt it.’
Wargrave stared at him with sudden attention.
Anthony Marston was standing36 beside Blore looking over his shoulder.
He said:
‘Got some fancy Christian37 names, hasn’t he? Ulick Norman Owen. Quitea mouthful.’
The old judge said with a slight start:
‘I am obliged to you, Mr Marston. You have drawn38 my attention to acurious and suggestive point.’
He looked round at the others and thrusting his neck forward like anangry tortoise, he said:
‘I think the time has come for us all to pool our information. It would bewell, I think, for everybody to come forward with all the information theyhave regarding the owner of this house.’ He paused and then went on: ‘Weare all his guests. I think it would be profitable if each one of us were toexplain exactly how that came about.’
There was a moment’s pause and then Emily Brent spoke with decision.
‘There’s something very peculiar39 about all this,’ she said. ‘I received aletter with a signature that was not very easy to read. It purported41 to befrom a woman I had met at a certain summer resort two or three yearsago. I took the name to be either Ogden or Oliver. I am acquainted with aMrs Oliver and also with a Miss Ogden. I am quite certain that I havenever met, or become friendly with any one of the name of Owen.’
Mr Justice Wargrave said:
‘You have that letter, Miss Brent?’
‘Yes, I will fetch it for you.’
She went away and returned a minute later with the letter.
The judge read it. He said:
‘I begin to understand…Miss Claythorne?’
Vera explained the circumstances of her secretarial engagement.
The judge said:
‘Marston?’
Anthony said:
‘Got a wire. From a pal42 of mine. Badger43 Berkeley. Surprised me at thetime because I had an idea the old horse had gone to Norway. Told me toroll up here.’
Again Wargrave nodded. He said:
‘Dr Armstrong?’
‘I was called in professionally.’
‘I see. You had no previous acquaintanceship with the family?’
‘No. A colleague of mine was mentioned in the letter.’
The judge said:
‘To give verisimilitude… Yes, and that colleague, I presume, was mo-mentarily out of touch with you?’
‘Well—er—yes.’
Lombard, who had been staring at Blore, said suddenly:
‘Look here, I’ve just thought of something—’
The judge lifted a hand.
‘In a minute—’
‘But I—’
‘We will take one thing at a time, Mr Lombard. We are at present inquir-ing into the causes which have resulted in our being assembled here to-night. General Macarthur?’
Pulling at his moustache, the General muttered:
‘Got a letter—from this fellow Owen—mentioned some old pals44 of minewho were to be here—hoped I’d excuse informal invitation. Haven’t keptthe letter, I’m afraid.’
Wargrave said: ‘Mr Lombard?’
Lombard’s brain had been active. Was he to come out in the open, ornot? He made up his mind.
‘Same sort of thing,’ he said. ‘Invitation, mention of mutual4 friends—Ifell for it all right. I’ve torn up the letter.’
Mr Justice Wargrave turned his attention to Mr Blore. His forefingerstroked his upper lip and his voice was dangerously polite.
He said:
‘Just now we had a somewhat disturbing experience. An apparently46 dis-embodied voice spoke to us all by name, uttering certain precise accusa-tions against us. We will deal with those accusations28 presently. At the mo-ment I am interested in a minor47 point. Amongst the names recited wasthat of William Henry Blore. But as far as we know there is no one namedBlore amongst us. The name of Davis was not mentioned. What have youto say about that, Mr Davis?’
Blore said sulkily:
‘Cat’s out of the bag, it seems. I suppose I’d better admit that my nameisn’t Davis.’
‘You are William Henry Blore?’
‘That’s right.’
‘I will add something,’ said Lombard. ‘Not only are you here under afalse name, Mr Blore, but in addition I’ve noticed this evening that you’rea first-class liar40. You claim to have come from Natal48, South Africa. I knowSouth Africa and Natal and I’m prepared to swear that you’ve never setfoot in South Africa in your life.’
All eyes were turned on Blore. Angry suspicious eyes. Anthony Marstonmoved a step nearer to him. His fists clenched49 themselves.
‘Now then, you swine,’ he said. ‘Any explanation?’
Blore flung back his head and set his square jaw50.
‘You gentlemen have got me wrong,’ he said. ‘I’ve got my credentials51 andyou can see them. I’m an ex-CID man. I run a detective agency in Ply-mouth. I was put on this job.’
Mr Justice Wargrave asked:
‘By whom?’
‘This man Owen. Enclosed a handsome money order for expenses andinstructed me as to what he wanted done. I was to join the house-party,posing as a guest. I was given all your names. I was to watch you all.’
‘Any reason given?’
Blore said bitterly:
‘Mrs Owen’s jewels. Mrs Owen my foot! I don’t believe there’s any suchperson.’
Again the forefinger45 of the judge stroked his lip, this time appreciatively.
‘Your conclusions are, I think, justified,’ he said. ‘Ulick Norman Owen! InMiss Brent’s letter, though the signature of the surname is a mere52 scrawlthe Christian names are reasonably clear—Una Nancy—in either case younotice, the same initials. Ulick Norman Owen—Una Nancy Owen—eachtime, that is to say, U. N. Owen. Or by a slight stretch of fancy, UN-KNOWN!’
Vera cried:
‘But this is fantastic—mad!’
The judge nodded gently.
He said:
‘Oh, yes. I’ve no doubt in my own mind that we have been invited hereby a madman—probably a dangerous homicidal lunatic.’
点击
收听单词发音
收听单词发音 |
1
intimacy
|
|
| n.熟悉，亲密，密切关系，亲昵的言行 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
2
mellowed
|
|
| （使）成熟( mellow的过去式和过去分词 )； 使色彩更加柔和，使酒更加醇香 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
3
caustic
|
|
| adj.刻薄的，腐蚀性的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
4
mutual
|
|
| adj.相互的，彼此的；共同的，共有的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
5
grunted
|
|
| （猪等）作呼噜声( grunt的过去式和过去分词 )； （指人）发出类似的哼声； 咕哝着说 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
6
embroidery
|
|
| n.绣花，刺绣；绣制品 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
7
pointed
|
|
| adj.尖的，直截了当的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
8
replete
|
|
| adj.饱满的，塞满的；n.贮蜜蚁 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
9
inhuman
|
|
| adj.残忍的，不人道的，无人性的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
10
indictments
|
|
| n.（制度、社会等的）衰败迹象( indictment的名词复数 )；刑事起诉书；公诉书；控告 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
11
petrified
|
|
| adj.惊呆的；目瞪口呆的v.使吓呆，使惊呆；变僵硬；使石化(petrify的过去式和过去分词) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
12
resounding
|
|
| adj. 响亮的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
13
huddled
|
|
| 挤在一起（huddle的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
14
bent
|
|
| n.爱好，癖好；adj.弯的；决心的，一心的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
15
sagged
|
|
| 下垂的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
16
habitual
|
|
| adj.习惯性的；通常的，惯常的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
17
darting
|
|
| v.投掷，投射( dart的现在分词 )；向前冲，飞奔 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
18
exclamation
|
|
| n.感叹号，惊呼，惊叹词 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
19
trumpet
|
|
| n.喇叭，喇叭声；v.吹喇叭，吹嘘 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
20
adroitly
|
|
| adv.熟练地，敏捷地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
21
gasps
|
|
| v.喘气( gasp的第三人称单数 )；喘息；倒抽气；很想要 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
22
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 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
23
soothingly
|
|
| adv.抚慰地，安慰地；镇痛地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
24
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： |
|
|
|
|
25
gasping
|
|
| adj. 气喘的, 痉挛的 动词gasp的现在分词 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
26
remarkable
|
|
| adj.显著的，异常的，非凡的，值得注意的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
27
slinging
|
|
| 抛( sling的现在分词 )； 吊挂； 遣送； 押往 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
28
accusations
|
|
| n.指责( accusation的名词复数 )；指控；控告；（被告发、控告的）罪名 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
29
tottered
|
|
| v.走得或动得不稳( totter的过去式和过去分词 )；踉跄；蹒跚；摇摇欲坠 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
30
forage
|
|
| n.(牛马的)饲料，粮草；v.搜寻，翻寻 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
31
stimulant
|
|
| n.刺激物，兴奋剂 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
32
sedative
|
|
| adj.使安静的，使镇静的；n. 镇静剂，能使安静的东西 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
33
proceedings
|
|
| n.进程，过程，议程；诉讼(程序)；公报 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
34
impromptu
|
|
| adj.即席的，即兴的；adv.即兴的(地)，无准备的(地) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
35
twitched
|
|
| vt.& vi.（使）抽动，（使）颤动（twitch的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
36
standing
|
|
| n.持续，地位；adj.永久的，不动的，直立的，不流动的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
37
Christian
|
|
| adj.基督教徒的；n.基督教徒 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
38
drawn
|
|
| v.拖，拉，拔出；adj.憔悴的，紧张的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
39
peculiar
|
|
| adj.古怪的，异常的；特殊的，特有的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
40
liar
|
|
| n.说谎的人 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
41
purported
|
|
| adj.传说的，谣传的v.声称是…，（装得）像是…的样子( purport的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
42
pal
|
|
| n.朋友，伙伴，同志；vi.结为友 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
43
badger
|
|
| v.一再烦扰，一再要求，纠缠 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
44
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： |
|
|
|
|
45
forefinger
|
|
| n.食指 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
46
apparently
|
|
| adv.显然地；表面上，似乎 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
47
minor
|
|
| adj.较小(少)的，较次要的；n.辅修学科；vi.辅修 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
48
natal
|
|
| adj.出生的，先天的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
49
clenched
|
|
| v.紧握，抓紧，咬紧( clench的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
50
jaw
|
|
| n.颚，颌，说教，流言蜚语；v.喋喋不休，教训 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
51
credentials
|
|
| n.证明，资格，证明书，证件 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
52
mere
|
|
| adj.纯粹的；仅仅，只不过 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
| 欢迎访问英文小说网 |