As they came up, still deep in the shadow of the pines, after dropping down from the high meadow into the wooden valley and climbing up it on a trail that paralleled the stream and then left it to gain, steeply, the top of a rim-rock formation, a man with a carbine stepped out from behind a tree.
"Halt," he said. Then, "_Hola_, Pilar. Who is this with thee?"
"An _Ingl廥_," Pilar said. "But with a Christian1 name--Roberto. And what an obscenity of steepness it is to arrive here."
"_Salud, Camarada_," the guard said to Robert Jordan and put out his hand. "Are you well?"
"Yes," said Robert Jordan. "And thee?"
"Equally," the guard said. He was very young, with a light build, thin, rather hawk-nosed face, high cheekbones and gray eyes. He wore no hat, his hair was black and shaggy and his handclasp was strong and friendly. His eyes were friendly too.
"Hello, Maria," he said to the girl. "You did not tire yourself?"
"_Qu?va_, Joaqu璯," the girl said. "We have sat and talked more than we have walked."
"Are you the dynamiter2?" Joaqu璯 asked. "We have heard you were here."
"We passed the night at Pablo's," Robert Jordan said. "Yes, I am the dynamiter."
"We are glad to see you," Joaqu璯 said. "Is it for a train?"
"Were you at the last train?" Robert Jordan asked and smiled.
"Was I not," Joaqu璯 said. "That's where we got this," he grinned at Maria. "You are pretty now," he said to Maria. "Have they told thee how pretty?"
"Shut up, Joaqu璯, and thank you very much," Maria said. "You'd be pretty with a haircut."
"I carried thee," Joaqu璯 told the girl. "I carried thee over my shoulder."
"As did many others," Pilar said in the deep voice. "Who didn't carry her? Where is the old man?"
"At the camp."
"Where was he last night?"
"In Segovia."
"Did he bring news?"
"Yes," Joaqu璯 said, "there is news."
"Good or bad?"
"I believe bad."
"Did you see the planes?"
"Ay," said Joaqu璯 and shook his head. "Don't talk to me of that. Comrade Dynamiter, what planes were those?"
"Heinkel one eleven bombers4. Heinkel and Fiat5 pursuit," Robert Jordan told him.
"What were the big ones with the low wings?"
"Heinkel one elevens."
"By any names they are as bad," Joaqu璯 said. "But I am delaying you. I will take you to the commander."
"The commander?" Pilar asked.
Joaqu璯 nodded seriously. "I like it better than 'chief," he said. "It is more military."
"You are militarizing heavily," Pilar said and laughed at him.
"No," Joaqu璯 said. "But I like military terms because it makes orders clearer and for better discipline."
"Here is one according to thy taste, _Ingl廥_," Pilar said. "A very serious boy."
"Should I carry thee?" Joaqu璯 asked the girl and put his arm on her shoulder and smiled in her face.
"Once was enough," Maria told him. "Thank you just the same."
"Can you remember it?" Joaqu璯 asked her.
"I can remember being carried," Maria said. "By you, no. I remember the gypsy because he dropped me so many times. But I thank thee, Joaqu璯, and I'll carry thee sometime."
"I can remember it well enough," Joaqu璯 said. "I can remember holding thy two legs and thy belly6 was on my shoulder and thy head over my back and thy arms hanging down against my back."
"Thou hast much memory," Maria said and smiled at him. "I remember nothing of that. Neither thy arms nor thy shoulders nor thy back."
"Do you want to know something?" Joaqu璯 asked her.
"What is it?"
"I was glad thou wert hanging over my back when the shots were coming from behind us."
"What a swine," Maria said. "And was it for this the gypsy too carried me so much?"
"For that and to hold onto thy legs."
"My heroes," Maria said. "My saviors."
"Listen, _guapa_," Pilar told her. "This boy carried thee much, and in that moment thy legs said nothing to any one. In that moment only the bullets talked clearly. And if he would have dropped thee he could soon have been out of range of the bullets."
"I have thanked him," Maria said. "And I will carry him sometime. Allow us to joke. I do not have to cry, do I, because he carried me?"
"I'd have dropped thee," Joaqu璯 went on teasing her. "But I was afraid Pilar would shoot me."
"I shoot no one," Pilar said.
"_No hace falta_," Joaqu璯 told her. "You don't need to. You scare them to death with your mouth."
"What a way to speak," Pilar told him. "And you used to be such a polite little boy. What did you do before the movement, little boy?"
"Very little," Joaqu璯 said. "I was sixteen."
"But what, exactly?"
"A few pairs of shoes from time to time."
"Make them?"
"No. Shine them."
"_Qu?va_," said Pilar. "There is more to it than that." She looked at his brown face, his lithe7 build, his shock of hair, and the quick heel-and-toe way that he walked. "Why did you fail at it?"
"Fail at what?"
"What? You know what. You're growing the pigtail now."
"I guess it was fear," the boy said.
"You've a nice figure," Pilar told him. "But the face isn't much. So it was fear, was it? You were all right at the train."
"I have no fear of them now," the boy said. "None. And we have seen much worse things and more dangerous than the bulls. It is clear no bull is as dangerous as a machine gun. But if I were in the ring with one now I do not know if I could dominate my legs."
"He wanted to be a bullfighter," Pilar explained to Robert Jordan. "But he was afraid."
"Do you like the bulls, Comrade Dynamiter?" Joaqu璯 grinned, showing white teeth.
"Very much," Robert Jordan said. "Very, very much."
"Have you seen them in Valladolid?" asked Joaqu璯.
"Yes. In September at the feria."
"That's my town," Joaqu璯 said. "What a fine town but how the _buena gente_, the good people of that town, have suffered in this war." Then, his face grave, "There they shot my father. My mother. My brother-in-law and now my sister."
"What barbarians8," Robert Jordan said.
How many times had he heard this? How many times had he watched people say it with difficulty? How many times had he seen their eyes fill and their throats harden with the difficulty of saying my father, or my brother, or my mother, or my sister? He could not remember how many times he had heard them mention their dead in this way. Nearly always they spoke9 as this boy did now; suddenly and apropos10 of the mention of the town and always you said, "What barbarians."
You only heard the statement of the loss. You did not see the father fall as Pilar made him see the fascists12 die in that story she had told by the stream. You knew the father died in some courtyard, or against some wall, or in some field or orchard13, or at night, in the lights of a truck, beside some road. You had seen the lights of the car from the hills and heard the shooting and afterwards you had come down to the road and found the bodies. You did not see the mother shot, nor the sister, nor the brother. You heard about it; you heard the shots; and you saw the bodies.
Pilar had made him see it in that town.
If that woman could only write. He would try to write it and if he had luck and could remember it perhaps he could get it down as she told it. God, how she could tell a story. She's better than Quevedo, he thought. He never wrote the death of any Don Faustino as well as she told it. I wish I could write well enough to write that story, he thought. What we did. Not what the others did to us. He knew enough about that. He knew plenty about that behind the lines. But you had to have known the people before. You had to know what they had been in the village.
Because of our mobility15 and because we did not have to stay afterwards to take the punishment we never knew how anything really ended, he thought. You stayed with a peasant and his family. You came at night and ate with them. In the day you were hidden and the next night you were gone. You did your job and cleared out. The next time you came that way you heard that they had been shot. It was as simple as that.
But you were always gone when it happened. The _partizans_ did their damage and pulled out. The peasants stayed and took the punishment. I've always known about the other, he thought. What we did to them at the start I've always known it and hated it and I have heard it mentioned shamelessly and shamefully16, bragged17 of, boasted of, defended, explained and denied. But that damned woman made me see it as though I had been there.
Well, he thought, it is part of one's education. It will be quite an education when it's finished. You learn in this war if you listen. You most certainly did. He was lucky that he had lived parts of ten years ifl Spain before the war. They trusted you on the language, principally. They trusted you on understanding the language completely and speaking it idiomatically18 and having a knowledge of the different places. A Spaniard was only really loyal to his village in the end. First Spain of course, then his own tribe, then his province, then his village, his family and finally his trade. If you knew Spanish he was prejudiced in your favor, if you knew his province it was that much better, but if you knew his village and his trade you were in as far as any foreigner ever could be. He never felt like a foreigner in Spanish and they did not really treat him like a foreigner most of the time; only when they turned on you.
Of course they turned on you. They turned on you often but they always turned on every one. They turned on themselves, too. If you had three together, two would unite against one, and then the two would start to betray each other. Not always, but often enough for you to take enough cases and start to draw it as a conclusion.
This was no way to think; but who censored19 his thinking? Nobody but himself. He would not think himself into any defeatism. The first thing was to win the war. If we did not win the war everything was lost. But he noticed, and listened to, and remembered everything. He was serving in a war and he gave absolute loyalty20 and as complete a performance as he could give while he was serving. But nobody owned his mind, nor his faculties21 for seeing and hearing, and if he were going to form judgments22 he would form them afterwards. And there would be plenty of material to draw them from. There was plenty already. There was a little too much sometimes.
Look at the Pilar woman, he thought. No matter what comes, if there is time, I must make her tell me the rest of that story. Look at her walking along with those two kids. You could not get three better-looking products of Spain than those. She is like a mountain and the boy and the girl are like young trees. The old trees are all cut down and the young trees are growing clean like that. In spite of what has happened to the two of them they look as fresh and clean and new and untouched as though they had never heard of misfortune. But according to Pilar, Maria has just gotten sound again. She must have been in an awful shape.
He remembered a Belgian boy in the Eleventh Brigade who had enlisted23 with five other boys from his village. It was a village Of about two hundred people and the boy had never been away froni the village before. When he first saw the boy, out at Hans' Brigade Staff, the other five from the village had all been killed and the boy was in very bad shape and they were using him as an orderly to wait on table at the staff. He had a big, blond, ruddy Flemish face and huge awkward peasant hands and he moved, with the dishes, as powerfully and awkwardly as a draft horse. But he cried all the time. All during the meal he cried with no noise at all.
You looked up and there he was, crying. If you asked for the wine, he cried and if you passed your plate for stew24, he cried; turning away his head. Then he would stop; but if you looked up at him, tears would start coming again. Between courses he cried in the kitchen. Every one was very gentle with him. But it did no good. He would have to find out what became of him and whether he ever cleared up and was fit for soldiering again.
Maria was sound enough now. She seemed so anyway. But he was no psychiatrist25. Pilar was the psychiatrist. It probably had been good for them to have been together last night. Yes, unless it stopped. It certainly had been good for him. He felt fine today; sound and good and unworried and happy. The show looked bad enough but he was awfully26 lucky, too. He had been in others that announced themselves badly. Announced themselves; that was thinking in Spanish. Maria was lovely.
Look at her, he said to himself. Look at her.
He looked at her striding happily in the sun; her khaki shirt open at the neck. She walks like a colt moves, he thought. You do not run onto something like that. Such things don't happen. Maybe it never did happen, he thought. Maybe you dreamed it or made it up and it never did happen. Maybe it is like the dreams you have when some one you have seen in the cinema comes to your bed at night and is so kind and lovely. He'd slept with them all that way When he was asleep in bed. He could remember Garbo still, and Harlow. Yes, Harlow many times. Maybe it was like those dreams.
But he could still remember the time Garbo came to his bed the flight before the attack at Pozoblanco and she was wearing a soft silky wool sweater when he put his arm around her and when she leaned forward her hair swept forward and over his face and she said why had he never told her that he loved her when she had loved him all this time? She was not shy, nor cold, nor distant. She was just lovely to hold and kind and lovely and like the old days with Jack27 Gilbert and it was as true as though it happened and he loved her much more than Harlow though Garbo was only there once while Harlow--maybe this was like those dreams.
Maybe it isn't too, he said to himself. Maybe I could reach over and touch that Maria now, he said to himself. Maybe you are afraid to he said to himself. Maybe you would find out that it never happened and it was not true and it was something you made up like those dreams about the people of the cinema or how all your old girls come back and sleep in that robe at night on all the bare floors, in the straw of the haybarns, the stables, the _corrales_ and the _cortijos_, the woods, the garages, the trucks and all the hills of Spain. They all came to that robe when he was asleep and they were all much nicer than they ever had been in life. Maybe it was like that. Maybe you would be afraid to touch her to see if it was true. Maybe you would, and probably it is something that you made up or that you dreamed.
He took a step across the trail and put his hand on the girl's arm. Under his fingers he felt the smoothness of her arm in the worn khaki. She looked at him and smiled.
"Hello, Maria," he said.
"Hello, _Ingl廥_," she answered and he saw her tawny28 brown face and the yellow-gray eyes and the full lips smiling and the cropped sun-burned hair and she lifted her face at him and smiled in his eyes. It was true all right.
Now they were in sight of El Sordo's camp in the last of the pines, where there was a rounded gulch-head shaped like an upturned basin. All these limestone29 upper basins must be full of caves, he thought. There are two caves there ahead. The scrub pines growing in the rock hide them well. This is as good or a better place than Pablo's.
"How was this shooting of thy family?" Pilar was saying to Joaqu璯.
"Nothing, woman," Joaqu璯 said. "They were of the left as many others in Valladolid. When the fascists purified the town they shot first the father. He had voted Socialist30. Then they shot the mother. She had voted the same. It was the first time she had ever voted. After that they shot the husband of one of the sisters. He was a member of the syndicate of tramway drivers. Clearly he could not drive a tram without belonging to the syndicate. But he was without politics. I knew him well. He was even a little hit shameless. I do not think he was even a good comrade. Then the husband of the other girl, the other sister, who was also in the trams, had gone to the hills as I had. They thought she knew where he was. But she did not. So they shot her because she would not tell them where he was."
"What barbarians," said Pilar. "Where is El Sordo? I do not see him."
"He is here. He is probably inside," answered Joaqu璯 and stopping now, and resting the rifle butt31 on the ground, said, "Pilar, listen to me. And thou, Maria. Forgive me if I have molested33 you speaking of things of the family. I know that all have the same troubles and it is more valuable not to speak of them."
"That you should speak," Pilar said. "For what are we born if not to aid one another? And to listen and say nothing is a cold enough aid."
"But it can molest32 the Maria. She has too many things of her own."
"_Qu?va_," Maria said. "Mine are such a big bucket that yours falling in will never fill it. I am sorry, Joaqu璯, and I hope thy sister is well."
"So far she's all right," Joaqu璯 said. "They have her in prison and it seems they do not mistreat her much."
"Are there others in the family?" Robert Jordan asked.
"No," the boy said. "Me. Nothing more. Except the brother-inlaw who went to the hills and I think he is dead."
"Maybe he is all right," Maria said. "Maybe he is with a band in other mountains."
"For me he is dead," Joaqu璯 said. "He was never too good at getting about and he was conductor of a tram and that is not the best preparation for the hills. I doubt if he could last a year. He was Somewhat weak in the chest too."
"But he may be all right," Maria put her arm on his shoulder.
"Certainly, girl. Why not?" said Joaqu璯.
As the boy stood there, Maria reached up, put her arms around his neck and kissed him. Joaqu璯 turned his head away because he was crying.
"That is as a brother," Maria said to him. "I kiss thee as a brother."
The boy shook his head, crying without making any noise.
"I am thy sister," Maria said. "And I love thee and thou hast a family. We are all thy family."
"Including the _Ingl廥_," boomed Pilar. "Isn't it true, _Ingl廥?_"
"Yes," Robert Jordan said to the boy, "we are all thy family, Joaqu璯."
"He's your brother," Pilar said. "Hey _Ingl廥?_"
Robert Jordan put his arm around the boy's shoulder. "We are all brothers," he said. The boy shook his head.
"I am ashamed to have spoken," he said. "To speak of such things makes it more difficult for all. I am ashamed of molesting34 you."
"I obscenity in the milk of my shame," Pilar said in her deep lovely voice. "And if the Maria kisses thee again I will commence kissing thee myself. It's years since I've kissed a bullfighter, even an unsuccessful one like thee, I would like to kiss an unsuccessful bullfighter turned Communist. Hold him, _Ingl廥_, till I get a good kiss at him."
"_Deja_," the boy said and turned away sharply. "Leave me alone. I am all right and I am ashamed."
He stood there, getting his face under control. Maria put her hand in Robert Jordan's. Pilar stood with her hands on her hips35 looking at the boy mockingly now.
"When I kiss thee," she said to him, "it will not be as any sister. This trick of kissing as a sister."
"It is not necessary to joke," the boy said. "I told you I am all right, I am sorry that I spoke."
"Well then let us go and see the old man," Pilar said. "I tire myself with such emotion."
The boy looked at her. From his eyes you could see he was suddenly very hurt.
"Not thy emotion," Pilar said to him. "Mine. What a tender thing thou art for a bullfighter."
"I was a failure," Joaqu璯 said. "You don't have to keep insisting on it."
"But you are growing the pigtail another time."
"Yes, and why not? Fighting stock serves best for that purpose economically. It gives employment to many and the State will control it. And perhaps now I would not be afraid."
"Perhaps not," Pilar said. "Perhaps not."
"Why do you speak in such a brutal36 manner, Pilar?" Maria said to her. "I love thee very much but thou art acting37 very barbarous."
"It is possible that I am barbarous," Pilar said. "Listen, _Ingl廥_. Do you know what you are going to say to El Sordo?"
"Yes."
"Because he is a man of few words unlike me and thee and this sentimental38 menagerie."
"Why do you talk thus?" Maria asked again, angrily.
"I don't know," said Pilar as she strode along. "Why do you think?"
"I do not know."
"At times many things tire me," Pilar said angrily. "You understand? And one of them is to have forty-eight years. You hear me? Forty-eight years and an ugly face. And another is to see panic in the face of a failed bullfighter of Communist tendencies when I say, as a joke, I might kiss him."
"It's not true, Pilar," the boy said. "You did not see that."
"_Qu?va_, it's not true. And I obscenity in the milk of all of you. Ah, there he is. _Hola_, Santiago! _Qu?tal?_"
The man to whom Pilar spoke was short and heavy, brownfaced, with broad cheekbones; gray haired, with wide-set yellowbrown eyes, a thin-bridged, hooked nose like an Indian's, a long Upper lip and a wide, thin mouth. He was clean shaven and he walked toward them from the mouth of the cave, moving with the bow-legged walk that went with his cattle herdsman's breeches and boots. The day was warm but he had on a sheep's-wool-lined short leather jacket buttoned up to the neck. He put out a big brown hand toPilar. "_Hola_, woman," he said. "_Hola_," he said to Robert Jordan and shook his hand and looked him keenly in the face. Robert Jordan saw his eyes were yellow as a cat's and flat as reptile's eyes are. "_Guapa_," he said to Maria and patted her shoulder.
"Eaten?" he asked Pilar. She shook her head.
"Eat," he said and looked at Robert Jordan. "Drink?" he asked, making a motion with his hand decanting39 his thumb downward.
"Yes, thanks."
"Good," El Sordo said. "Whiskey?"
"You have whiskey?"
El Sordo nodded. "_Ingl廥?_" he asked. "Not _Ruso?_"
"_Americano_."
"Few Americans here," he said.
"Now more."
"Less bad. North or South?"
"North."
"Same as _Ingl廥_. When blow bridge?"
"You know about the bridge?"
El Sordo nodded.
"Day after tomorrow morning."
"Good," said El Sordo.
"Pablo?" he asked Pilar.
She shook her head. El Sordo grinned.
"Go away," he said to Maria and grinned again. "Come back," he looked at a large watch he pulled out on a leather thong40 from inside his coat. "Half an hour."
He motioned to them to sit down on a flattened41 log that served as a bench and looking at Joaqu璯, jerked his thumb down the trail in the direction they had come from.
"I'll walk down with Joaqu璯 and come back," Maria said.
El Sordo went into the cave and came out with a pinch bottle of Scotch42 whiskey and three glasses. The bottle was under one arm, and three glasses were in the hand of that arm, a finger in each glass, and his other hand was around the neck of an earthenware43 jar of water. He put the glasses and the bottle down on the log and set the jug44 on the ground.
"No ice," he said to Robert Jordan and handed him the bottle.
"I don't want any," Pilar said and covered her glass with her hand.
"Ice last night on ground," El Sordo said and grinned. "All melt. Ice up there," El Sordo said and pointed45 to the snow that showed on the bare crest46 of the mountains. "Too far."
Robert Jordan started to pour into El Sordo's glass but the deaf man shook his head and made a motion for the other to pour for himself.
Robert Jordan poured a big drink of Scotch into the glass and El Sordo watched him eagerly and when he had finished, handed him the water jug and Robert Jordan filled the glass with the cold water that ran in a stream from the earthenware spout47 as he tipped up the jug.
El Sordo poured himself half a glassful of whiskey and filled the glass with water.
"Wine?" he asked Pilar.
"No. Water."
"Take it," he said. "No good," he said to Robert Jordan and grinned. "Knew many English. Always much whiskey."
"Where?"
"Ranch," El Sordo said. "Friends of boss."
"Where do you get the whiskey?"
"What?" he could not hear.
"You have to shout," Pilar said. "Into the other ear."
El Sordo pointed to his better ear and grinned.
"Where do you get the whiskey?" Robert Jordan shouted.
"Make it," El Sordo said and watched Robert Jordan's hand check on its way to his mouth with the glass.
"No," El Sordo said and patted his shoulder. "Joke. Comes from La Granja. Heard last night comes English dynamiter. Good. Very happy. Get whiskey. For you. You like?"
"Very much," said Robert Jordan. "It's very good whiskey."
"Am contented," Sordo grinned. "Was bringing tonight with information"
"What information?"
Much troop movement."
Where?
"Segovia. Planes you saw."
"Yes."
"Bad, eh?"
"Bad."
"Troop movement?"
"Much between Villacast璯 and Segovia. On Valladolid road. Much between Villacast璯 and San Rafael. Much. Much."
"What do you think?"
"We prepare something?"
"Possibly."
"They know. Prepare too."
"It is possible."
"Why not blow bridge tonight?"
"Orders."
"Whose orders?"
"General Staff."
"So."
"Is the time of the blowing important?" Pilar asked.
"Of all importance."
"But if they are moving up troops?"
"I will send Anselmo with a report of all movement and concentrations. He is checking the road."
"You have some one at road?" Sordo asked.
Robert Jordan did not know how much he had heard. You never know with a deaf man.
"Yes," he said.
"Me, too. Why not blow bridge now?"
"I have my orders."
"I don't like it," El Sordo said. "This I do not like."
"Nor I," said Robert Jordan.
El Sordo shook his head and took a sip48 of the whiskey. "You want of me?"
"How many men have you?"
"Eight."
"To cut the telephone, attack the post at the house of the roadmenders, take it, and fall back on the bridge."
"It is easy."
"It will all be written out."
"Don't trouble. And Pablo?"
"Will cut the telephone below, attack the post at the sawmill, take it and fall back on the bridge."
"And afterwards for the retreat?" Pilar asked. "We are seven men, two women and five horses. You are," she shouted into Sordo's ear.
"Eight men and four horses. _Faltan caballos_," he said. "Lacks horses."
"Seventeen people and nine horses," Pilar said. "Without accounting49 for transport."
Sordo said nothing.
"There is no way of getting horses?" Robert Jordan said into Sordo's best ear.
"In war a year," Sordo said. "Have four." He showed four fingers. "Now you want eight for tomorrow."
"Yes," said Robert Jordan. "Knowing you are leaving. Having no need to be careful as you have been in this neighborhood. Not having to be cautious here now. You could not cut out and steal eight head of horses?"
"Maybe," Sordo said. "Maybe none. Maybe more."
"You have an automatic rifle?" Robert Jordan asked.
Sordo nodded.
"Where?"
"Up the hill."
"What kind?"
"Don't know name. With pans."
"How many rounds?"
"Five pans."
"Does any one know how to use it?"
"Me. A little. Not shoot too much. Not want make noise here. Not want use cartridges50."
"I will look at it afterwards," Robert Jordan said. "Have you hand grenades?"
Plenty.
"How many rounds per rifle?"
"Plenty."
"How many?"
"One hundred fifty. More maybe."
"What about other people?"
"For what?"
"To have sufficient force to take the posts and cover the bridge While I am blowing it. We should have double what we have."
"Take posts don't worry. What time day?"
"Daylight."
"Don't worry."
"I could use twenty more men, to be sure," Robert Jordan said.
"Good ones do not exist. You want undependables?"
"No. How many good ones?"
"Maybe four."
"Why so few?"
"No trust."
"For horseholders?"
"Must trust much to be horseholders."
"I'd like ten more good men if I could get them."
"Four."
"Anselmo told me there were over a hundred here in these hills."
"No good."
"You said thirty," Robert Jordan said to Pilar. "Thirty of a certain degree of dependability."
"What about the people of Elias?" Pilar shouted to Sordo. He shook his head.
"No good."
"You can't get ten?" Robert Jordan asked. Sordo looked at him with his flat, yellow eyes and shook his head.
"Four," he said and held up four fingers.
"Yours are good?" Robert Jordan asked, regretting it as he said it.
Sordo nodded.
"_Dentro de la gravedad_," he said in Spanish. "Within the limits of the danger." He grinned. "Will be bad, eh?"
"Possibly."
"Is the same to me," Sordo said simply and not boasting. "Better four good than much bad. In this war always much bad, very little good. Every day fewer good. And Pablo?" he looked at Pilar.
"As you know," Pilar said. "Worse every day."
Sordo shrugged51 his shoulders.
"Take drink," Sordo said to Robert Jordan. "I bring mine and four more. Makes twelve. Tonight we discuss all. I have sixty sticks dynamite3. You want?"
"What per cent?"
"Don't know. Common dynamite. I bring."
"We'll blow the small bridge above with that," Robert Jordan said. "That is fine. You'll come down tonight? Bring that, will you? I've no orders for that but it should be blown."
"I come tonight. Then hunt horses."
"What chance for horses?"
"Maybe. Now eat."
Does he talk that way to every one? Robert Jordan thought. Or is that his idea of how to make foreigners understand?
"And where are we going to go when this is done?" Pilar shouted into Sordo's ear.
He shrugged his shoulders.
"All that must be arranged," the woman said.
"Of course," said Sordo. "Why not?"
"It is bad enough," Pilar said. "It must be planned very well."
"Yes, woman," Sordo said. "What has thee worried?"
"Everything," Pilar shouted.
Sordo grinned at her.
"You've been going about with Pablo," he said.
So he does only speak that pidgin Spanish for foreigners, Robert Jordan thought. Good. I'm glad to hear him talking straight.
"Where do you think we should go?" Pilar asked.
"Where?"
"Yes, where?"
"There are many places," Sordo said. "Many places. You know Gredos?"
"There are many people there. All these places will be cleaned up as soon as they have time."
"Yes. But it is a big country and very wild."
"It would be very difficult to get there," Pilar said.
"Everything is difficult," El Sordo said. "We can get to Gredos as well as to anywhere else. Travelling at night. Here it is very dangerous now. It is a miracle we have been here this long. Gredos is safer country than this."
"Do you know where I want to go?" Pilar asked him.
"Where? The Paramera? That's no good."
"No," Pilar said. "Not the Sierra de Paramera. I want to go to the Republic."
"That is possible."
"Would your people go?"
"Yes. If I say to."
"Of mine, I do not know," Pilar said. "Pablo would not want to although, truly, he might feel safer there. He is too old to have to go for a soldier unless they call more classes. The gypsy will not wish to go. I do not know about the others."
"Because nothing passes her for so long they do not realize the danger," El Sordo said.
"Since the planes today they will see it more," Robert Jordan said. "But I should think you could operate very well from the Gredos."
"What?" El Sordo said and looked at him with his eyes very flat. There was no friendliness52 in the way he asked the question.
"You could raid more effectively from there," Robert Jordan said.
"So," El Sordo said. "You know Gredos?"
"Yes. You could operate against the main line of the railway from there. You could keep cutting it as we are doing farther south in Estremadura. To operate from there would be better than returning to the Republic," Robert Jordan said. "You are more useful there."
They had both gotten sullen53 as he talked.
Sordo looked at Pilar and she looked back at him.
"You know Gredos?" Sordo asked. "Truly?"
"Sure," said Robert Jordan.
"Where would you go?"
"Above Barco de Avila. Better places than here. Raid against the main road and the railroad between B嶴ar and Plasencia."
"Very difficult," Sordo said.
"We have worked against that same railroad in much more dangerous country in Estremadura," Robert Jordan said.
"Who is we?"
"The _guerrilleros_ group of Estremadura."
"You are many?"
"About forty."
"Was the one with the bad nerves and the strange name from there?" asked Pilar.
"Yes."
"Where is he now?"
"Dead, as I told you."
"You are from there, too?"
"Yes."
"You see what I mean?" Pilar said to him.
And I have made a mistake, Robert Jordan thought to himself. I have told Spaniards we can do something better than they can when the rule is never to speak of your own exploits or abilities. When I should have flattered them I have told them what I think they should do and now they are furious. Well, they will either get over it or they will not. They are certainly much more useful in the Gredos than here. The proof is that here they have done nothing since the train that Kashkin organized. It was not much of a show. It cost the fascists one engine and killed a few troops but they all talk as though it were the high point of the war. Maybe they will shame into going to the Gredos. Yes and maybe I will get thrown out of here too. Well, it is not a very rosy-looking dish anyway that you look into it.
"Listen _Ingl廥_," Pilar said to him. "How are your nerves?"
"All right," said Robert Jordan. "O.K."
"Because the last dynamiter they sent to work with us, although a formidable technician, was very nervous."
"We have nervous ones," Robert Jordan said.
"I do not say that he was a coward because he comported54 himself very well," Pilar went on. "But he spoke in a very rare and windy way." She raised her voice. "Isn't it true, Santiago, that the last dynamiter, he of the train, was a little rare?"
"_Algo raro_," the deaf man nodded and his eyes went over Robert Jordan's face in a way that reminded him of the round opening at the end of the wand of a vacuum cleaner. "_Si, algo raro, pero bueno_."
"_Muri醭," Robert Jordan said into the deaf man's ear. "He is dead."
"How was that?" the deaf man asked, dropping his eyes down from Robert Jordan's eyes to his lips.
"I shot him," Robert Jordan said. "He was too badly wounded to travel and I shot him."
"He was always talking of such a necessity," Pilar said. "It was his obsession55."
"Yes," said Robert Jordan. "He was always talking of such a necessity and it was his obsession."
"_Como fu?_" the deaf man asked. "Was it a train?"
"It was returning from a train," Robert Jordan said. "The train was successful. Returning in the dark we encountered a fascist11 patrol and as we ran he was shot high in the back but without hitting any bone except the shoulder blade. He travelled quite a long way, but with the wound was unable to travel more. He was unwilling56 to be left behind and I shot him."
"_Menos mal_," said El Sordo. "Less bad."
"Are you sure your nerves are all right?" Pilar said to Robert Jordan.
"Yes," he told her. "I am sure that my nerves are all right and I think that when we terminate this of the bridge you would do well to go to the Gredos."
As he said that, the woman started to curse in a flood of obscene invective57 that rolled over and around him like the hot white water splashing down from the sudden eruption58 of a geyser.
The deaf man shook his head at Robert Jordan and grinned in delight. He continued to shake his head happily as Pilar went on vilifying59 and Robert Jordan knew that it was all right again now. Finally she stopped cursing, reached for the water jug, tipped it up and took a drink and said, calmly, "Then just shut up about what we are to do afterwards, will you, _Ingl廥?_ You go back to the Republic and you take your piece with you and leave us others alone here to decide what part of these hills we'll die in."
"Live in," El Sordo said. "Calm thyself, Pilar."
"Live in and die in," Pilar said. "I can see the end of it well enough. I like thee, _Ingl廥_, but keep thy mouth off of what we must do when thy business is finished."
"It is thy business," Robert Jordan said. "I do not put my hand in it."
"But you did," Pilar said. "Take thy little cropped-headed whore and go back to the Republic but do not shut the door on others who are not foreigners and who loved the Republic when thou wert wiping thy mother's milk off thy chin."
Maria had come up the trail while they were talking and she heard this last sentence which Pilar, raising her voice again, shouted at Robert Jordan. Maria shook her head at Robert Jordan violently and shook her finger warningly. Pilar saw Robert Jordan looking at the girl and saw him smile and she turned and said, "Yes. I said whore and I mean it. And I suppose that you'll go to Valencia together and we can eat goat crut in Gredos."
"I'm a whore if thee wishes, Pilar," Maria said. "I suppose I am in all case if you say so. But calm thyself. What passes with thee?"
"Nothing," Pilar said and sat down on the bench, her voice calm now and all the metallic60 rage gone out of it. "I do not call thee that. But I have such a desire to go to the Republic."
"We can all go," Maria said.
"Why not?" Robert Jordan said. "Since thou seemest not to love the Gredos."
Sordo grinned at him.
"We'll see," Pilar said, her rage gone now. "Give me a glass of that rare drink. I have worn my throat out with anger. We'll see. We'll see what happens."
"You see, Comrade," El Sordo explained. "It is the morning that is difficult." He was not talking the pidgin Spanish now and he was looking into Robert Jordan's eyes calmly and explainingly; not searchingly nor suspiciously, nor with the flat superiority of the old campaigner that had been in them before. "I understand your needs and I know the posts must be exterminated61 and the bridge covered while you do your work. This I understand perfectly62. This is easy to do before daylight or at daylight."
"Yes," Robert Jordan said. "Run along a minute, will you?" he said to Maria without looking at her.
The girl walked away out of hearing and sat down, her hands clasped over her ankles.
"You see," Sordo said. "In that there is no problem. But to leave afterward14 and get out of this country in daylight presents a grave problem"
"Clearly," said Robert Jordan. "I have thought of it. It is daylight for me also."
"But you are one," El Sordo said. "We are various."
"There is the possibility of returning to the camps and leaving from there at dark," Pilar said, putting the glass to her lips and then lowering it.
"That is very dangerous, too," El Sordo explained. "That is perhaps even more dangerous."
"I can see how it would be," Robert Jordan said.
"To do the bridge in the night would be easy," El Sordo said. "Since you make the condition that it must be done at daylight, it brings grave consequences."
"I know it."
"You could not do it at night?"
"I would be shot for it."
"It is very possible we will all be shot for it if you do it in the daytime."
"For me myself that is less important once the bridge is blown," Robert Jordan said. "But I see your viewpoint. You cannot work Out a retreat for daylight?"
"Certainly," El Sordo said. "We will work out such a retreat. But I explain to you why one is preoccupied63 and why one is irritated. You speak of going to Gredos as though it were a military manceuvre to be accomplished64. To arrive at Gredos would be a miracle."
Robert Jordan said nothing.
"Listen to me," the deaf man said. "I am speaking much. But it is so we may understand one another. We exist here by a miracle. By a mixacle of laziness and stupidity of the fascists which they will remedy in time. Of course we are very careful and we make no disturbance65 in these hills."
"I know."
"But now, with this, we must go. We must think much about the manner of our going."
"Clearly."
"Then," said El Sordo. "Let us eat now. I have talked much."
"Never have I heard thee talk so much," Pilar said. "Is it this?" she held up the glass.
"No," El Sordo shook his head. "It isn't whiskey. It is that never have I had so much to talk of."
"I appreciate your aid and your loyalty," Robert Jordan said. "I appreciate the difficulty caused by the timing66 of the blowing of the bridge."
"Don't talk of that," El Sordo said. "We are here to do what we can do. But this is complicated."
"And on paper very simple," Robert Jordan grinned. "On paper the bridge is blown at the moment the attack starts in order that nothing shall come up the road. It is very simple."
"That they should let us do something on paper," El Sordo said. "That we should conceive and execute something on paper."
"Paper bleeds little," Robert Jordan quoted the proverb.
"But it is very useful," Pilar said. "_Es muy util_. What I would like to do is use thy orders for that purpose."
"Me too," said Robert Jordan. "But you could never win a war like that."
"No," the big woman said. "I suppose not. But do you know what I would like?"
"To go to the Republic," El Sordo said. He had put his good ear close to her as she spoke. "_Ya ir嫳, mujer_. Let us win this and it will all be Republic."
"All right," Pilar said. "And now, for God's sake let us eat."
他们从髙山坡上的草地笔直朝下走进树木葱茏的山谷，再爬上一条和小溪平行的山路，随即在松树的浓荫里弃路登上一个陡峭的圓山顶,这时，只见一个手握卡宾枪的男人从一棵树后闪出来。
“站住，”他说，接着说，“是你，比拉尔。跟你一起的是谁?”
“一个英国人。”比拉尔说。“不过倒有个天主教的教名一罗伯托。到这里的路真他妈的徒。”
“你好吗，同志。”哨兵对罗伯特 乔丹说，伸出手来 。
“好。”罗伯特’乔丹说。“你呢？〃
“也好，”那哨兵说。这个人很年轻，身材又小又瘦，长着很髙的鹰钩鼻，高顴骨，灰眼睛。他没戴帽子，头发粗浓漆黑，握手有力而友好。他的眼神也是友好的。
“喂，玛丽亚，”他对那姑娘说。“你没有累坏吗？”“什么话，华金！”姑娘说。“我们坐着聊天的时间比走路的时间长，“
“你就是爆玻手吗？”华金问。“我们听说你来这里了？“我们在巴勃罗那儿过的夜，”罗伯特‘乔丹说。“对，我就是爆破手。”
”“很高兴见到侔，”华金说。“准备炸火车吗？”。”“上次炸火车你在吗？”罗伯特-乔丹微笑着问。“怎么不在 ”华金说。“我们就是在那里把她收下的，”他对玛丽亚露齿笑笑。“你琛在长得漂亮了。”他对玛丽亚谗，〃人家对你说过，你有多漂亮吗?”
“算了，华金，谢谢你，”玛丽亚说。“你剃了头也满漂亮的。”“是我背你的，”华金对姑娘说。“我把你背在肩上，““好多人都背过。”比拉尔用低沉的声音说。“哪个没背过她?老头子在哪儿?”“在营地。”“昨晚他在哪里?”“在塞哥维亚。”“他带来了消息吗,“带来了，”华金说。“有消息。”“好的还是坏的?”“我看是坏的，““你看到飞机没有?”
“唉，”华金摇摇头说。“甭提啦。爆玻手同志，那些是什么飞机?”
“海因克尔111型轰炸机。海因克尔和菲亚特驱逐机，”罗伯特’乔丹对他说。
“那些低机翼的大飞机是什么飞机?”“海因克尔111型。”
“管它叫什么名字，反正一样糟，”华金说 “我在耽搁你们的时间了，我带你们到司令那儿去。”“司令？”比拉尔问。
华金一本正经地点点头，“我喜欢叫司令，不喜欢叫‘头目、”他说。“叫司令更富有部队的气派。”“你越来越军事化了，，比拉尔取笑他说,“不，”华金说。“不过我喜欢军事术语，可以使命令更明确，纪律更严明。”
“这里有个配你胃口的小伙子,英国人，”比拉尔说。“很认真的小伙子，“
“我背你好吗？”华金问姑娘，并把手放在她肩上，冲着她徽
笑。
“背过一次就够啦，”玛丽亚对他说。“不过还是谢谢你。”；“你记得当时的情景吗？”华金问她。“我记得有人背我。”玛丽亚说。“你背我，记不得了。我记得那吉普赛人，因为他好几次把我扔下了。可是我要谢谢你,华金，以后有机会我来背你。”
“我还记得很清楚。”华金说。“我记得，抓住了你两条腿，你肚子贴在我肩上，你的头和两条手臂垂在我背后。”
“你的记性不错。”玛丽亚对他笑着说。“我一点也记不得了。你的手臂啦，肩膀啦，背啦，我全记不得了。”“你想知道一件事吗？”华金问她。“什么事?” ，
“我髙兴的是，当时子弹是从我们背后打来的，你的身体正好挡住了我的背。”
“你这个畜生。”玛丽亚说。“吉普赛人背了我好久，难道也是这个原因？”
“也是这个原因,并且还因为可以抱住你的大腿。”〃这就是我的英雄们”玛丽亚说,“我的救命恩人““听着，漂亮的姑娘，”比拉尔对她说。“这小伙子背了你好长时间，在那个关头,对你的大腿谁都不会动心。那时候只听到嘘嘘的子弹声。要是把你扔下，他早就能跑出子弹的射程了，““我谢过他了。”玛丽亚说，“我以后一定也背背他。让我们说说笑诘吧。我总不应该为了他背过我而哭吧,是不是?”
“我原想把你扔下的，”华金继续逗她。“可是我怕比拉尔枪爽我。”
“我没枪毙过人，”比拉尔说。
“没有枪毙的必要。”华金对她说。“你一开口就能把人吓死。”
“油嘴滑舌，”比拉尔对他说。“你以前一直是个懂规矩的小伙子。革命前你干什么，孩子。“
“不干什么。”华金说。“我那时只有十六岁，“
“究竟干些什么。”
“时不时摆弄摆弄几双皮鞋
“做皮鞋吗？”
“不。擦皮鞋。“
“什么话，”比拉尔说。“不止是擦皮鞋吧,她望着他那棕色的脸,矫健的身材，蓬乱的头发和那敏捷的步伐。“你干吗不干了?”
“不干什么？”
“什么？你自己知道什么。你现在已经在留头发好扎斗牛士的小辫啦。”
“我看是害怕的缘故，”小伙子说。“你身材不错。”比拉尔对他说。“只是相貌平常一些。那么是由于害怕,是吗？炸火车的时候，你干得不坏嘛。”
“我现在不怕牛了。”那小伙子说。“随便哪一头都不怕了。比牛凶得多、危险得多的东西，我们都见过了。当然，嗛头牛都比不上机关枪危险。不过,要是现在上斗牛场去斗牛,我不知道两条腿还打不打哆嗦。”
“他原想当斗牛士，”比拉尔对罗伯特 乔丹讲。“不过他害
怕。”
‘“你喜欢看斗牛吗，爆玻手同志?”华金笑着，露出了洁白的牙齿。
“非常喜欢，”罗伯特’乔丹说。“非常、非常喜欢。”
“你在瓦利阿多里德看过斗牛吗？”华金问。
“看过。在九月份的节期内。”
“那是我家乡，”华金说。“我的家乡多好呀，可是城里那些善良的乡亲在这次战争中吃了多少苦啊。”他的脸色变得严肃了，“他们在那里枪杀了我爹，我妈，我姐夫，后来又杀了我姐姐。”
“杀人不眨眼的畜生，”罗伯特，乔丹说。这种话他听过多少次啦？他多少次看到人们难受地说着这种话？他多少次见到人们满眶泪水、哽着喉咙、难受地讲到“我爹，我兄弟，我妈，或者我姐妹、听人们这样讲到死去的亲人，他记不得有多少次了。人们讲的几乎总和现在这个小伙子讲的一样；一提起家乡，就一下子讲开了，而你呢，总是这么一句话 “杀人不眨眼的畜生。”你只不过听人们提起家人丧亡罢了。你没看到他们的父亲死去，不象比拉尔在小溪边向他描述法西斯分子死去的情衆那样生动，就象亲眼看见似的。你知道那父亲死在某个院子里，某堵墙脚下,某片地里或果园里，或者晚上死在某条公路边的卡车灯光下。你从山里望见那卡车的灯光，听见了枪声,后来你来到公路上，发现了？“体。你没见到那母亲、姐妹或兄弟被枪杀。你听说过;你听到过枪声；你见过？“体。比拉尔使他看到了那镇上杀人的情景，要是这女人能写作就好了。他要把这些事写出来，假如他运气好，能记住，他也许能照她讲的写出来。天哪，她真会讲故事。他想，她比大诗人克维多还出色哪。克维多从没象她那样生动地描写过堂，福斯蒂诺之死。他想，但愿我能写得好,把那个故事写出来。把我们的所作所为写出来。不是写人家对我们干的事。那方面他很了解。战线后方的这一类情况,他知道得很多。但是你必须先了解这些人。你必须了解他们原来在村里是干什么的。他想，由于我们的流动性，由于我们事后不必留下来进到报复，我们不知道事后到底怎么样。你跟一个农民和他家人待在—起。你夜里来了，跟他们一起吃饭。白天，你躲起来，第二天夜里你就走了。你完成了任务一走了事。下一次你又照老样子来了，听说这些人已被枪杀了。事情就是这么简单。
他们被枪杀时，你总是不在场。游击队摘了破坏，撤退了。农民留下来遭到报复。我老是只了解一个方面,他想。了解开头时我们怎样对待他们。我老是了解到了，感到惽恨，我听到人们厚颜无耻而使人害臊地提到它，夸夸其谈，强词夺理，辩解，否认。可是这该死的女人使我看到啦,就象我当时也在场一样。
唉，他想，这是一个人的教育的一部分啊。经历了战争，真能长不少见识。要是你注意倾听，在这场战争中能学到不少东西。你肯定能学到。幸亏战前十年他断渐续续在西班牙待过不少日子。主要是由于你会讲西班牙话，他们就信赖你。你完全掌握这种语言,讲得满地道，又了解不同地方的情形，他们就信赖你。说到头，西班牙人只真正忠于自己的家乡。当然，首先是西班牙,然后是他的种族，他的省份，他的村镇，他的家庭，最后是他的行业。如果你会西班牙话,他就偏爱你,如果你了解他的省份,那就更好，不过，如果你了解他的村镇和行业，你这个外国铯就和他们打成一片，“。他在西班牙从来不觉得自己象个外国人，他们实际上在大多数情况下也不把他当外国人看待；除了在他们反对你的时候。
他们当然会反对你。他们常常反对你，但是他们也反对别人。他们连自己都反对。如果有三个人在一起，两个人会联合起来反对第三个人，然后这两个人开始相互拆台。不总是这样，但这种情况经常发生，使你可以举出很多的例子，足以由此得出这个结论。
可不该这样想啊；但指责他这种想法的是谁呢？谁也没有，只有他自己。他不能老往失败方面想。首要的事是打赢这场战争。我们如果打不蠃这场战争，一切都完了。但是他注意观察、留心倾听，并记住一切。他在一场战争中脲役，在这服役期间，他绝对忠诚并且尽可能好地完成任务。可是谁也占有不了他的心灵，或者他的观察和听取的能力，如果他打算作出判断，那是将来的事。作出判断所根据的材料是不会少的。己经有了许多啦。有时侯，未免多了一点。
瞧这个叫比拉尔的女人吧,他想。不管以后发生什么事佾,只要有时间，我一定要叫她讲完那个故事。瞧她在那两个年青人旁边走路的样子。你再也找不到比他们三人更好看的西班牙儿女了。她象座山，这青年和姑娘象两棵小树。老树全被砍倒了，小树在苗壮成长。尽管这对年青人遭到过厄运，他们还是显得那么清新、干净、纯洁、完整，仿佛从来也没听到过灾难这种事情似的，可是,听比拉尔的口气,玛丽亚才开始康复。她当初一定情况很糟糕。
他记得十一旅有个比利时小伙于，是和村里另外五个青年
一起入伍的。村里人口大约有两百人，这小伙子以前从投离开过家乡。当罗伯特‘乔丹第一次在汉斯旅①旅部看到他的时候,同村另外五个人全都牺牲了，那小伙子失魂落魄的,他们让他当勤务兵，在旅部伺候开饭。他长着一张白里透红的佛兰芒人②的大脸，和一双农民的粗大的手，他堠着盘碟走动的样子就象拖车的马儿那样地使劲而笨拙。可晕他哭个没完。吃饭时他不出声地一直在哭。
你抬头就看到他在哭。你要酒，他哭；你递过盘子要炖肉，他扭过脑袋哭。他也会停住,但要是你抬头朝他一望，他眼泪就又涌出来了。上莱间歇时间，他在厨房里哭。大家都根体谅他。但这没用。他要弄明白自已会怎么样，能不能从打击中恢复过来,是不是再适于当兵打仗。
玛丽亚现在相当健全。至少她外表看来是这样，可是他不是精神病专家。比拉尔才是精神病专家。昨晚一起过夜对他俩也许是好的。是啊,除非就到此结束了。这对他当然是好的。他今天觉得舒畅、身体健康、无忧无虑、精神愉快。这件事开头显得很糟糕，不过他的运气也眵好的。他以前也遇到过表现很糟糕的事情。表现很轜糕，那是用西班牙语思考的说法。玛丽亚是可爱的。
瞧她,他对自己说。瞧瞧她。‘
他瞧着她在阳光下愉快地迈着大步，她的卡其衬衫敞着领子。她走路的样子象匹瑚镅眺跳的小马，他想。这种事情是不容易碰到的。这种事情不会发生。也许根本没有发生过，他想。也许你这是在做梦,或者在异想天开,但是它根本没有发生过。也许正象你过去那些梦中的情景。”你在电影里看到的女人夜里来到你的床上，那么亲切，那么可爱。当他在床上熟睡的时候,他
收听单词发音 |
1
Christian
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| adj.基督教徒的；n.基督教徒 | |
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dynamiter
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| n.炸药使用者（尤指革命者） | |
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dynamite
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| n./vt.(用)炸药(爆破) | |
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bombers
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| n.轰炸机( bomber的名词复数 )；投弹手；安非他明胶囊；大麻叶香烟 | |
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fiat
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| n.命令，法令，批准；vt.批准，颁布 | |
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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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lithe
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| adj.(指人、身体)柔软的，易弯的 | |
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barbarians
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| n.野蛮人( barbarian的名词复数 )；外国人；粗野的人；无教养的人 | |
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spoke
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| n.（车轮的）辐条；轮辐；破坏某人的计划；阻挠某人的行动 v.讲，谈（speak的过去式）；说；演说；从某种观点来说 | |
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apropos
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| adv.恰好地；adj.恰当的；关于 | |
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fascist
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| adj.法西斯主义的；法西斯党的；n.法西斯主义者，法西斯分子 | |
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12
fascists
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| n.法西斯主义的支持者( fascist的名词复数 ) | |
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13
orchard
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| n.果园，果园里的全部果树，(美俚)棒球场 | |
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afterward
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| adv.后来；以后 | |
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mobility
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| n.可动性，变动性，情感不定 | |
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shamefully
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| 可耻地； 丢脸地； 不体面地； 羞耻地 | |
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bragged
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| v.自夸，吹嘘( brag的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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idiomatically
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| adv.符合语言习惯地；使用惯用语句，惯用地 | |
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censored
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| 受审查的，被删剪的 | |
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loyalty
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| n.忠诚，忠心 | |
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21
faculties
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| n.能力( faculty的名词复数 )；全体教职员；技巧；院 | |
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judgments
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| 判断( judgment的名词复数 )； 鉴定； 评价； 审判 | |
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enlisted
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| adj.应募入伍的v.（使）入伍， （使）参军( enlist的过去式和过去分词 )；获得（帮助或支持） | |
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24
stew
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| n.炖汤，焖，烦恼；v.炖汤，焖，忧虑 | |
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psychiatrist
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| n.精神病专家；精神病医师 | |
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awfully
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| adv.可怕地，非常地，极端地 | |
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jack
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| n.插座，千斤顶，男人；v.抬起，提醒，扛举；n.（Jake）杰克 | |
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28
tawny
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| adj.茶色的，黄褐色的；n.黄褐色 | |
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limestone
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| n.石灰石 | |
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socialist
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| n.社会主义者；adj.社会主义的 | |
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31
butt
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| n.笑柄；烟蒂；枪托；臀部；v.用头撞或顶 | |
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molest
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| vt.骚扰，干扰，调戏 | |
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molested
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| v.骚扰( molest的过去式和过去分词 )；干扰；调戏；猥亵 | |
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34
molesting
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| v.骚扰( molest的现在分词 )；干扰；调戏；猥亵 | |
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35
hips
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| 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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brutal
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| adj.残忍的，野蛮的，不讲理的 | |
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37
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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38
sentimental
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| adj.多愁善感的，感伤的 | |
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39
decanting
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| n.滗析（手续）v.将（酒等）自瓶中倒入另一容器( decant的现在分词 ) | |
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40
thong
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| n.皮带；皮鞭；v.装皮带 | |
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41
flattened
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| [医]（水）平扁的，弄平的 | |
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42
scotch
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| n.伤口，刻痕；苏格兰威士忌酒；v.粉碎，消灭，阻止；adj.苏格兰(人)的 | |
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43
earthenware
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| n.土器，陶器 | |
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44
jug
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| n.(有柄，小口，可盛水等的)大壶，罐，盂 | |
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45
pointed
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| adj.尖的，直截了当的 | |
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46
crest
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| n.顶点；饰章；羽冠；vt.达到顶点；vi.形成浪尖 | |
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47
spout
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| v.喷出，涌出；滔滔不绝地讲；n.喷管；水柱 | |
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48
sip
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| v.小口地喝，抿，呷；n.一小口的量 | |
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49
accounting
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| n.会计，会计学，借贷对照表 | |
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50
cartridges
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| 子弹( cartridge的名词复数 )； （打印机的）墨盒； 录音带盒； （唱机的）唱头 | |
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51
shrugged
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| vt.耸肩（shrug的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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52
friendliness
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| n.友谊，亲切，亲密 | |
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53
sullen
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| adj.愠怒的，闷闷不乐的，(天气等)阴沉的 | |
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54
comported
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| v.表现( comport的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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55
obsession
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| n.困扰，无法摆脱的思想(或情感) | |
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56
unwilling
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| adj.不情愿的 | |
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57
invective
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| n.痛骂，恶意抨击 | |
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58
eruption
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| n.火山爆发；（战争等）爆发；（疾病等）发作 | |
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59
vilifying
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| v.中伤，诽谤( vilify的现在分词 ) | |
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60
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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61
exterminated
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| v.消灭，根绝( exterminate的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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62
perfectly
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| adv.完美地，无可非议地，彻底地 | |
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63
preoccupied
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| adj.全神贯注的，入神的；被抢先占有的；心事重重的v.占据（某人）思想，使对…全神贯注，使专心于( preoccupy的过去式) | |
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64
accomplished
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| adj.有才艺的；有造诣的；达到了的 | |
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65
disturbance
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| n.动乱，骚动；打扰，干扰；(身心)失调 | |
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66
timing
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| n.时间安排，时间选择 | |
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