“Not he,” she said peevishly7, as though that too irritated her. “He thinks of nothing but the works and the prices of fuel. He has no imagination, no poetry.”
“None of these men of iron have,” he said sententiously. “They have no hearts.”
“He has not,” she said. She turned her discontented face towards the window. The distant sound of a roaring and rushing drew nearer and grew in volume; the house quivered; one heard the metallic9 rattle10 of the tender. As the train passed, there was a glare of light above the cutting and a driving tumult11 of smoke; one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight black oblongs—eight trucks—passed across the dim grey of the embankment, and were suddenly extinguished one by one in the throat of the tunnel, which, with the last, seemed to swallow down train, smoke, and sound in one abrupt12 gulp13.
“This country was all fresh and beautiful once,” he said; “and now—it is Gehenna. Down that way—nothing but pot-banks and chimneys belching14 fire and dust into the face of heaven . . . . . But what does it matter? An end comes, an end to all this cruelty . . . . . To-morrow.” He spoke the last word in a whisper.
“To-morrow,” she said, speaking in a whisper too, and still staring out of the window.
“Dear!” he said, putting his hand on hers.
She turned with a start, and their eyes searched one another’s. Hers softened15 to his gaze. “My dear one!” she said, and then: “It seems so strange—that you should have come into my life like this—to open—” She paused.
“To open?” he said.
“All this wonderful world—” she hesitated, and spoke still more softly—“this world of love to me.”
Then suddenly the door clicked and closed. They turned their heads, and he started violently back. In the shadow of the room stood a great shadowy figure—silent. They saw the face dimly in the half-light, with unexpressive dark patches under the penthouse brows. Every muscle in Raut’s body suddenly became tense. When could the door have opened? What had he heard? Had he heard all? What had he seen? A tumult of questions.
The new-comer’s voice came at last, after a pause that seemed interminable. “Well?” he said.
“I was afraid I had missed you, Horrocks,” said the man at the window, gripping the window-ledge with his hand. His voice was unsteady.
The clumsy figure of Horrocks came forward out of the shadow. He made no answer to Raut’s remark. For a moment he stood above them.
The woman’s heart was cold within her. “I told Mr. Raut it was just possible you might come back,” she said, in a voice that never quivered.
Horrocks, still silent, sat down abruptly16 in the chair by her little work-table. His big hands were clenched17; one saw now the fire of his eyes under the shadow of his brows. He was trying to get his breath. His eyes went from the woman he had trusted to the friend he had trusted, and then back to the woman.
By this time and for the moment all three half understood one another. Yet none dared say a word to ease the pent-up things that choked them.
It was the husband’s voice that broke the silence at last.
“You wanted to see me?” he said to Raut.
Raut started as he spoke. “I came to see you,” he said, resolved to lie to the last.
“Yes,” said Horrocks.
“You promised,” said Raut, “to show me some fine effects of moonlight and smoke.”
“I promised to show you some fine effects of moonlight and smoke,” repeated Horrocks in a colourless voice.
“And I thought I might catch you to-night before you went down to the works,” proceeded Raut, “and come with you.”
There was another pause. Did the man mean to take the thing coolly? Did he after all know? How long had he been in the room? Yet even at the moment when they heard the door, their attitudes. . . . Horrocks glanced at the profile of the woman, shadowy pallid18 in the half-light. Then he glanced at Raut, and seemed to recover himself suddenly. “Of course,” he said, “I promised to show you the works under their proper dramatic conditions. It’s odd how I could have forgotten.”
“If I am troubling you—” began Raut.
Horrocks started again. A new light had suddenly come into the sultry gloom of his eyes. “Not in the least,” he said.
“Have you been telling Mr. Raut of all these contrasts of flame and shadow you think so splendid?” said the woman, turning now to her husband for the first time, her confidence creeping back again, her voice just one half-note too high. “That dreadful theory of yours that machinery19 is beautiful, and everything else in the world ugly. I thought he would not spare you, Mr. Raut. It’s his great theory, his one discovery in art.”
“I am slow to make discoveries,” said Horrocks grimly, damping her suddenly. “But what I discover . . . . .” He stopped.
“Well?” she said.
“Nothing;” and suddenly he rose to his feet.
“I promised to show you the works,” he said to Raut, and put his big, clumsy hand on his friend’s shoulder. “And you are ready to go?”
“Quite,” said Raut, and stood up also.
There was another pause. Each of them peered through the indistinctness of the dusk at the other two. Horrocks’ hand still rested on Raut’s shoulder. Raut half fancied still that the incident was trivial after all. But Mrs. Horrocks knew her husband better, knew that grim quiet in his voice, and the confusion in her mind took a vague shape of physical evil. “Very well”, said Horrocks, and, dropping his hand, turned towards the door.
“My hat?” Raut looked round in the half-light.
“That’s my work-basket,” said Mrs. Horrocks, with a gust20 of hysterical21 laughter. Their hands came together on the back of the chair. “Here it is!” he said. She had an impulse to warn him in an undertone, but she could not frame a word. “Don’t go!” and “Beware of him!” struggled in her mind, and the swift moment passed.
Raut stepped towards him. “Better say good-bye to Mrs. Horrocks,” said the ironmaster, even more grimly quiet in his tone than before.
Raut started and turned. “Good-evening, Mrs. Horrocks,” he said, and their hands touched.
Horrocks held the door open with a ceremonial politeness unusual in him towards men. Raut went out, and then, after a wordless look at her, her husband followed. She stood motionless while Raut’s light footfall and her husband’s heavy tread, like bass24 and treble, passed down the passage together. The front door slammed heavily. She went to the window, moving slowly, and stood watching—leaning forward. The two men appeared for a moment at the gateway25 in the road, passed under the street lamp, and were hidden by the black masses of the shrubbery. The lamp-light fell for a moment on their faces, showing only unmeaning pale patches, telling nothing of what she still feared, and doubted, and craved26 vainly to know. Then she sank down into a crouching27 attitude in the big arm-chair, her eyes wide open and staring out at the red lights from the furnaces that flickered28 in the sky. An hour after she was still there, her attitude scarcely changed.
The oppressive stillness of the evening weighed heavily upon Raut. They went side by side down the road in silence, and in silence turned into the cinder-made by-way that presently opened out the prospect29 of the valley.
A blue haze30, half dust, half mist, touched the long valley with mystery. Beyond were Hanley and Etruria, grey and dark masses, outlined thinly by the rare golden dots of the street lamps, and here and there a gaslit window, or the yellow glare of some late-working factory or crowded public-house. Out of the masses, clear and slender against the evening sky, rose a multitude of tall chimneys, many of them reeking31, a few smokeless during a season of “play.” Here and there a pallid patch and ghostly stunted33 beehive shapes showed the position of a pot-bank, or a wheel, black and sharp against the hot lower sky, marked some colliery where they raise the iridescent34 coal of the place. Nearer at hand was the broad stretch of railway, and half invisible trains shunted—a steady puffing35 and rumbling36, with every run a ringing concussion37 and a rhythmic38 series of impacts, and a passage of intermittent39 puffs40 of white steam across the further view. And to the left, between the railway and the dark mass of the low hill beyond, dominating the whole view, colossal41, inky-black, and crowned with smoke and fitful flames, stood the great cylinders43 of the Jeddah Company Blast Furnaces, the central edifices44 of the big ironworks of which Horrocks was the manager. They stood heavy and threatening, full of an incessant45 turmoil46 of flames and seething47 molten iron, and about the feet of them rattled48 the rolling-mills, and the steam hammer beat heavily and splashed the white iron sparks hither and thither49. Even as they looked, a truckful of fuel was shot into one of the giants, and the red flames gleamed out, and a confusion of smoke and black dust came boiling upwards50 towards the sky.
“Certainly you get some fine effects of colour with your furnaces,” said Raut, breaking a silence that had become apprehensive51.
Horrocks grunted53. He stood with his hands in his pockets, frowning down at the dim steaming railway and the busy ironworks beyond, frowning as if he were thinking out some knotty54 problem.
Raut glanced at him and away again. “At present your moonlight effect is hardly ripe,” he continued, looking upward. “The moon is still smothered55 by the vestiges56 of daylight.”
Horrocks stared at him with the expression of a man who has suddenly awakened57. “Vestiges of daylight? . . . . Of course, of course.” He too looked up at the moon, pale still in the midsummer sky. “Come along,” he said suddenly, and, gripping Raut’s arm in his hand, made a move towards the path that dropped from them to the railway.
Raut hung back. Their eyes met and saw a thousand things in a moment that their eyes came near to say. Horrocks’ hand tightened58 and then relaxed. He let go, and before Raut was aware of it, they were arm in arm, and walking, one unwillingly59 enough, down the path.
“You see the fine effect of the railway signals towards Burslem,” said Horrocks, suddenly breaking into loquacity60, striding fast, and tightening61 the grip of his elbow the while. “Little green lights and red and white lights, all against the haze. You have an eye for effect, Raut. It’s a fine effect. And look at those furnaces of mine, how they rise upon us as we come down the hill. That to the right is my pet—seventy feet of him. I packed him myself, and he’s boiled away cheerfully with iron in his guts62 for five long years. I’ve a particular fancy for him. That line of red there—a lovely bit of warm orange you’d call it, Raut—that’s the puddlers’ furnaces, and there, in the hot light, three black figures—did you see the white splash of the steam-hammer then?—that’s the rolling mills. Come along! Clang, clatter63, how it goes rattling64 across the floor! Sheet tin, Raut,—amazing stuff. Glass mirrors are not in it when that stuff comes from the mill. And, squelch65!—there goes the hammer again. Come along!”
He had to stop talking to catch at his breath. His arm twisted into Raut’s with benumbing tightness. He had come striding down the black path towards the railway as though he was possessed66. Raut had not spoken a word, had simply hung back against Horrocks’ pull with all his strength.
“I say,” he said now, laughing nervously, but with an undernote of snarl67 in his voice, “why on earth are you nipping my arm off, Horrocks, and dragging me along like this?”
At length Horrocks released him. His manner changed again. “Nipping your arm off?” he said. “Sorry. But it’s you taught me the trick of walking in that friendly way.”
“You haven’t learnt the refinements68 of it yet then,” said Raut, laughing artificially again. “By Jove! I’m black and blue.” Horrocks offered no apology. They stood now near the bottom of the hill, close to the fence that bordered the railway. The ironworks had grown larger and spread out with their approach. They looked up to the blast furnaces now instead of down; the further view of Etruria and Hanley had dropped out of sight with their descent. Before them, by the stile rose a notice-board, bearing still dimly visible, the words, “BEWARE OF THE TRAINS,” half hidden by splashes of coaly mud.
“Fine effects,” said Horrocks, waving his arm. “Here comes a train. The puffs of smoke, the orange glare, the round eye of light in front of it, the melodious69 rattle. Fine effects! But these furnaces of mine used to be finer, before we shoved cones71 in their throats, and saved the gas.”
“How?” said Raut. “Cones?”
“Cones, my man, cones. I’ll show you one nearer. The flames used to flare72 out of the open throats, great—what is it?—pillars of cloud by day, red and black smoke, and pillars of fire by night. Now we run it off in pipes, and burn it to heat the blast, and the top is shut by a cone70. You’ll be interested in that cone.”
“But every now and then,” said Raut, “you get a burst of fire and smoke up there.”
“The cone’s not fixed73, it’s hung by a chain from a lever, and balanced by an equipoise. You shall see it nearer. Else, of course, there’d be no way of getting fuel into the thing. Every now and then the cone dips, and out comes the flare.”
“I see,” said Raut. He looked over his shoulder. “The moon gets brighter,” he said.
“Come along,” said Horrocks abruptly, gripping his shoulder again, and moving him suddenly towards the railway crossing. And then came one of those swift incidents, vivid, but so rapid that they leave one doubtful and reeling. Halfway74 across, Horrocks’ hand suddenly clenched upon him like a vice75, and swung him backward and through a half-turn, so that he looked up the line. And there a chain of lamp-lit carriage-windows telescoped swiftly as it came towards them, and the red and yellow lights of an engine grew larger and larger, rushing down upon them. As he grasped what this meant, he turned his face to Horrocks, and pushed with all his strength against the arm that held him back between the rails. The struggle did not last a moment. Just as certain as it was that Horrocks held him there, so certain was it that he had been violently lugged76 out of danger.
“Out of the way,” said Horrocks, with a gasp77, as the train came rattling by, and they stood panting by the gate into the ironworks.
“I did not see it coming,” said Raut, still, even in spite of his own apprehensions78, trying to keep up an appearance of ordinary intercourse79.
Horrocks answered with a grunt52. “The cone,” he said, and then, as one who recovers himself, “I thought you did not hear.”
“I didn’t,” said Raut.
“I wouldn’t have had you run over then for the world,” said Horrocks.
“For a moment I lost my nerve,” said Raut.
Horrocks stood for half a minute, then turned abruptly towards the ironworks again. “See how fine these great mounds80 of mine, these clinker-heaps, look in the night! That truck yonder, up above there! Up it goes, and out-tilts the slag81. See the palpitating red stuff go sliding down the slope. As we get nearer, the heap rises up and cuts the blast furnaces. See the quiver up above the big one. Not that way! This way, between the heaps. That goes to the puddling furnaces, but I want to show you the canal first.” He came and took Raut by the elbow, and so they went along side by side. Raut answered Horrocks vaguely82. What, he asked himself, had really happened on the line? Was he deluding83 himself with his own fancies, or had Horrocks actually held him back in the way of the train? Had he just been within an ace8 of being murdered?
Suppose this slouching, scowling84 monster did know anything? For a minute or two then Raut was really afraid for his life, but the mood passed as he reasoned with himself. After all, Horrocks might have heard nothing. At any rate, he had pulled him out of the way in time. His odd manner might be due to the mere85 vague jealousy86 he had shown once before. He was talking now of the ash-heaps and the canal. “Eigh?” said Horrocks.
“What?” said Raut. “Rather! The haze in the moonlight. Fine!”
“Our canal,” said Horrocks, stopping suddenly. “Our canal by moonlight and firelight is an immense effect. You’ve never seen it? Fancy that! You’ve spent too many of your evenings philandering87 up in Newcastle there. I tell you, for real florid effects—But you shall see. Boiling water . . .”
As they came out of the labyrinth88 of clinker-heaps and mounds of coal and ore, the noises of the rolling-mill sprang upon them suddenly, loud, near, and distinct. Three shadowy workmen went by and touched their caps to Horrocks. Their faces were vague in the darkness. Raut felt a futile89 impulse to address them, and before he could frame his words, they passed into the shadows. Horrocks pointed90 to the canal close before them now: a weird-looking place it seemed, in the blood-red reflections of the furnaces. The hot water that cooled the tuyeres came into it, some fifty yards up—a tumultuous, almost boiling affluent91, and the steam rose up from the water in silent white wisps and streaks92, wrapping damply about them, an incessant succession of ghosts coming up from the black and red eddies93, a white uprising that made the head swim. The shining black tower of the larger blast-furnace rose overhead out of the mist, and its tumultuous riot filled their ears. Raut kept away from the edge of the water, and watched Horrocks.
“Here it is red,” said Horrocks, “blood-red vapour as red and hot as sin; but yonder there, where the moonlight falls on it, and it drives across the clinker-heaps, it is as white as death.”
Raut turned his head for a moment, and then came back hastily to his watch on Horrocks. “Come along to the rolling-mills,” said Horrocks. The threatening hold was not so evident that time, and Raut felt a little reassured94. But all the same, what on earth did Horrocks mean about “white as death” and “red as sin?” Coincidence, perhaps?
They went and stood behind the puddlers for a little while, and then through the rolling-mills, where amidst an incessant din23 the deliberate steam-hammer beat the juice out of the succulent iron, and black, half-naked Titans rushed the plastic bars, like hot sealing-wax, between the wheels. “Come on,” said Horrocks in Raut’s ear, and they went and peeped through the little glass hole behind the tuyeres, and saw the tumbled fire writhing95 in the pit of the blast-furnace. It left one eye blinded for a while. Then, with green and blue patches dancing across the dark, they went to the lift by which the trucks of ore and fuel and lime were raised to the top of the big cylinder42.
And out upon the narrow rail that overhung the furnace, Raut’s doubts came upon him again. Was it wise to be here? If Horrocks did know—everything! Do what he would, he could not resist a violent trembling. Right under foot was a sheer depth of seventy feet. It was a dangerous place. They pushed by a truck of fuel to get to the railing that crowned the place. The reek32 of the furnace, a sulphurous vapor96 streaked97 with pungent98 bitterness, seemed to make the distant hillside of Hanley quiver. The moon was riding out now from among a drift of clouds, halfway up the sky above the undulating wooded outlines of Newcastle. The steaming canal ran away from below them under an indistinct bridge, and vanished into the dim haze of the flat fields towards Burslem.
“That’s the cone I’ve been telling you of,” shouted Horrocks; “and, below that, sixty feet of fire and molten metal, with the air of the blast frothing through it like gas in soda-water.”
Raut gripped the hand-rail tightly, and stared down at the cone. The heat was intense. The boiling of the iron and the tumult of the blast made a thunderous accompaniment to Horrocks’ voice. But the thing had to be gone through now. Perhaps, after all . . .
“In the middle,” bawled99 Horrocks, “temperature near a thousand degrees. If you were dropped into it . . . . flash into flame like a pinch of gunpowder100 in a candle. Put your hand out and feel the heat of his breath. Why, even up here I’ve seen the rain-water boiling off the trucks. And that cone there. It’s a damned sight too hot for roasting cakes. The top side of it’s three hundred degrees.”
“Three hundred degrees!” said Raut.
“Three hundred centigrade, mind!” said Horrocks. “It will boil the blood out of you in no time.”
“Eigh?” said Raut, and turned.
“Boil the blood out of you in . . . No, you don’t!”
“Let me go!” screamed Raut. “Let go my arm!”
With one hand he clutched at the hand-rail, then with both. For a moment the two men stood swaying. Then suddenly, with a violent jerk, Horrocks had twisted him from his hold. He clutched at Horrocks and missed, his foot went back into empty air; in mid-air he twisted himself, and then cheek and shoulder and knee struck the hot cone together.
He clutched the chain by which the cone hung, and the thing sank an infinitesimal amount as he struck it. A circle of glowing red appeared about him, and a tongue of flame, released from the chaos101 within, flickered up towards him. An intense pain assailed102 him at the knees, and he could smell the singeing103 of his hands. He raised himself to his feet, and tried to climb up the chain, and then something struck his head. Black and shining with the moonlight, the throat of the furnace rose about him.
Horrocks, he saw, stood above him by one of the trucks of fuel on the rail. The gesticulating figure was bright and white in the moonlight, and shouting, “Fizzle, you fool! Fizzle, you hunter of women! You hot-blooded hound! Boil! boil! boil!”
Suddenly he caught up a handful of coal out of the truck, and flung it deliberately104, lump after lump, at Raut.
“Horrocks!” cried Raut. “Horrocks!”
He clung crying to the chain, pulling himself up from the burning of the cone. Each missile Horrocks flung hit him. His clothes charred105 and glowed, and as he struggled the cone dropped, and a rush of hot suffocating106 gas whooped107 out and burned round him in a swift breath of flame.
His human likeness108 departed from him. When the momentary109 red had passed, Horrocks saw a charred, blackened figure, its head streaked with blood, still clutching and fumbling110 with the chain, and writhing in agony—a cindery111 animal, an inhuman112, monstrous113 creature that began a sobbing114 intermittent shriek115.
Abruptly, at the sight, the ironmaster’s anger passed. A deadly sickness came upon him. The heavy odour of burning flesh came drifting up to his nostrils116. His sanity117 returned to him.
“God have mercy upon me!” he cried. “O God! what have I done?”
He knew the thing below him, save that it still moved and felt, was already a dead man—that the blood of the poor wretch118 must be boiling in his veins119. An intense realisation of that agony came to his mind, and overcame every other feeling. For a moment he stood irresolute120, and then, turning to the truck, he hastily tilted121 its contents upon the struggling thing that had once been a man. The mass fell with a thud, and went radiating over the cone. With the thud the shriek ended, and a boiling confusion of smoke, dust, and flame came rushing up towards him. As it passed, he saw the cone clear again.
Then he staggered back, and stood trembling, clinging to the rail with both hands. His lips moved, but no words came to them.
Down below was the sound of voices and running steps. The clangour of rolling in the shed ceased abruptly.
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收听单词发音
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1
overcast
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| adj.阴天的，阴暗的，愁闷的；v.遮盖，（使）变暗，包边缝；n.覆盖，阴天 | |
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rimmed
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| adj.有边缘的，有框的v.沿…边缘滚动；给…镶边 | |
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3
shrubs
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| 灌木( shrub的名词复数 ) | |
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4
hazy
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| adj.有薄雾的，朦胧的；不肯定的，模糊的 | |
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5
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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6
nervously
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| adv.神情激动地，不安地 | |
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7
peevishly
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| adv．暴躁地 | |
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8
ace
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| n.A牌；发球得分；佼佼者；adj.杰出的 | |
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9
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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10
rattle
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| v.飞奔，碰响；激怒；n.碰撞声；拨浪鼓 | |
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11
tumult
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| n.喧哗；激动，混乱；吵闹 | |
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12
abrupt
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| adj.突然的，意外的；唐突的，鲁莽的 | |
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13
gulp
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| vt.吞咽，大口地吸（气）；vi.哽住；n.吞咽 | |
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14
belching
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| n. 喷出，打嗝 动词belch的现在分词形式 | |
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15
softened
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| （使）变软( soften的过去式和过去分词 )； 缓解打击； 缓和； 安慰 | |
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16
abruptly
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| adv.突然地，出其不意地 | |
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clenched
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| v.紧握，抓紧，咬紧( clench的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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pallid
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| adj.苍白的，呆板的 | |
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machinery
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| n.(总称)机械，机器；机构 | |
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gust
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| n.阵风，突然一阵（雨、烟等），（感情的）迸发 | |
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hysterical
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| adj.情绪异常激动的，歇斯底里般的 | |
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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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din
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| n.喧闹声，嘈杂声 | |
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bass
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| n.男低音(歌手)；低音乐器；低音大提琴 | |
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gateway
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| n.大门口，出入口，途径，方法 | |
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26
craved
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| 渴望，热望( crave的过去式 )； 恳求，请求 | |
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crouching
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| v.屈膝，蹲伏( crouch的现在分词 ) | |
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28
flickered
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| （通常指灯光）闪烁，摇曳( flicker的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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prospect
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| n.前景，前途；景色，视野 | |
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haze
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| n.霾，烟雾；懵懂，迷糊；vi.(over)变模糊 | |
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31
reeking
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| v.发出浓烈的臭气( reek的现在分词 )；散发臭气；发出难闻的气味 (of sth)；明显带有（令人不快或生疑的跡象） | |
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reek
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| v.发出臭气；n.恶臭 | |
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33
stunted
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| adj.矮小的；发育迟缓的 | |
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34
iridescent
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| adj.彩虹色的，闪色的 | |
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35
puffing
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| v.使喷出( puff的现在分词 )；喷着汽（或烟）移动；吹嘘；吹捧 | |
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36
rumbling
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| n. 隆隆声, 辘辘声 adj. 隆隆响的 动词rumble的现在分词 | |
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concussion
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| n.脑震荡；震动 | |
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38
rhythmic
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| adj.有节奏的，有韵律的 | |
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39
intermittent
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| adj.间歇的，断断续续的 | |
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40
puffs
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| n.吸( puff的名词复数 )；（烟斗或香烟的）一吸；一缕（烟、蒸汽等）；（呼吸或风的）呼v.使喷出( puff的第三人称单数 )；喷着汽（或烟）移动；吹嘘；吹捧 | |
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colossal
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| adj.异常的，庞大的 | |
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42
cylinder
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| n.圆筒，柱(面)，汽缸 | |
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43
cylinders
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| n.圆筒( cylinder的名词复数 )；圆柱；汽缸；（尤指用作容器的）圆筒状物 | |
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edifices
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| n.大建筑物( edifice的名词复数 ) | |
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incessant
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| adj.不停的，连续的 | |
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46
turmoil
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| n.骚乱，混乱，动乱 | |
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47
seething
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| 沸腾的，火热的 | |
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48
rattled
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| 慌乱的，恼火的 | |
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49
thither
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| adv.向那里；adj.在那边的，对岸的 | |
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50
upwards
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| adv.向上，在更高处...以上 | |
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51
apprehensive
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| adj.担心的，恐惧的，善于领会的 | |
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52
grunt
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| v.嘟哝；作呼噜声；n.呼噜声，嘟哝 | |
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53
grunted
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| （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 | |
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54
knotty
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| adj.有结的，多节的，多瘤的，棘手的 | |
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smothered
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| （使）窒息， （使）透不过气( smother的过去式和过去分词 )； 覆盖； 忍住； 抑制 | |
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vestiges
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| 残余部分( vestige的名词复数 )； 遗迹； 痕迹； 毫不 | |
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awakened
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| v.（使）醒( awaken的过去式和过去分词 )；（使）觉醒；弄醒；（使）意识到 | |
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tightened
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| 收紧( tighten的过去式和过去分词 )； （使）变紧； （使）绷紧； 加紧 | |
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unwillingly
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| adv.不情愿地 | |
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loquacity
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| n.多话，饶舌 | |
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61
tightening
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| 上紧，固定，紧密 | |
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62
guts
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| v.狼吞虎咽，贪婪地吃，飞碟游戏（比赛双方每组5人，相距15码，互相掷接飞碟）；毁坏（建筑物等）的内部( gut的第三人称单数 )；取出…的内脏n.勇气( gut的名词复数 )；内脏；消化道的下段；肠 | |
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clatter
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| v./n.(使)发出连续而清脆的撞击声 | |
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rattling
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| adj. 格格作响的, 活泼的, 很好的 adv. 极其, 很, 非常 动词rattle的现在分词 | |
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squelch
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| v.压制，镇压；发吧唧声 | |
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possessed
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| adj.疯狂的；拥有的，占有的 | |
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snarl
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| v.吼叫，怒骂，纠缠，混乱；n.混乱，缠结，咆哮 | |
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refinements
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| n.（生活）风雅；精炼( refinement的名词复数 )；改良品；细微的改良；优雅或高贵的动作 | |
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melodious
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| adj.旋律美妙的，调子优美的，音乐性的 | |
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cone
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| n.圆锥体，圆锥形东西，球果 | |
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cones
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| n.（人眼）圆锥细胞；圆锥体( cone的名词复数 )；球果；圆锥形东西；（盛冰淇淋的）锥形蛋卷筒 | |
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flare
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| v.闪耀，闪烁；n.潮红；突发 | |
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fixed
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| adj.固定的，不变的，准备好的；(计算机)固定的 | |
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halfway
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| adj.中途的，不彻底的，部分的；adv.半路地，在中途，在半途 | |
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vice
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| n.坏事；恶习；[pl.]台钳，老虎钳；adj.副的 | |
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lugged
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| vt.用力拖拉（lug的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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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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apprehensions
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| 疑惧 | |
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intercourse
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| n.性交；交流，交往，交际 | |
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80
mounds
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| 土堆，土丘( mound的名词复数 )； 一大堆 | |
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slag
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| n.熔渣，铁屑，矿渣；v.使变成熔渣，变熔渣 | |
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82
vaguely
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| adv.含糊地，暖昧地 | |
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83
deluding
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| v.欺骗，哄骗( delude的现在分词 ) | |
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84
scowling
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| 怒视，生气地皱眉( scowl的现在分词 ) | |
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85
mere
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| adj.纯粹的；仅仅，只不过 | |
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86
jealousy
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| n.妒忌，嫉妒，猜忌 | |
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philandering
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| v.调戏，玩弄女性( philander的现在分词 ) | |
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88
labyrinth
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| n.迷宫；难解的事物；迷路 | |
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89
futile
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| adj.无效的，无用的，无希望的 | |
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pointed
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| adj.尖的，直截了当的 | |
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affluent
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| adj.富裕的，富有的，丰富的，富饶的 | |
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streaks
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| n.（与周围有所不同的）条纹( streak的名词复数 )；（通常指不好的）特征（倾向）；（不断经历成功或失败的）一段时期v.快速移动( streak的第三人称单数 )；使布满条纹 | |
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93
eddies
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| （水、烟等的）漩涡，涡流( eddy的名词复数 ) | |
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reassured
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| adj.使消除疑虑的；使放心的v.再保证，恢复信心( reassure的过去式和过去分词) | |
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95
writhing
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| （因极度痛苦而）扭动或翻滚( writhe的现在分词 ) | |
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96
vapor
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| n.蒸汽，雾气 | |
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97
streaked
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| adj.有条斑纹的，不安的v.快速移动( streak的过去式和过去分词 )；使布满条纹 | |
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pungent
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| adj.（气味、味道）刺激性的，辛辣的；尖锐的 | |
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99
bawled
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| v.大叫，大喊( bawl的过去式和过去分词 )；放声大哭；大声叫出；叫卖（货物） | |
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100
gunpowder
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| n.火药 | |
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101
chaos
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| n.混乱，无秩序 | |
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102
assailed
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| v.攻击( assail的过去式和过去分词 )；困扰；质问；毅然应对 | |
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103
singeing
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| v.浅表烧焦( singe的现在分词 )；（毛发）燎，烧焦尖端[边儿]；烧毛 | |
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104
deliberately
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| adv.审慎地；蓄意地；故意地 | |
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105
charred
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| v.把…烧成炭( char的过去式)；烧焦 | |
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106
suffocating
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| a.使人窒息的 | |
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107
whooped
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| 叫喊( whoop的过去式和过去分词 )； 高声说； 唤起 | |
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108
likeness
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| n.相像，相似（之处） | |
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109
momentary
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| adj.片刻的，瞬息的；短暂的 | |
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110
fumbling
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| n. 摸索,漏接 v. 摸索,摸弄,笨拙的处理 | |
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111
cindery
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| adj.灰烬的，煤渣的 | |
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112
inhuman
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| adj.残忍的，不人道的，无人性的 | |
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113
monstrous
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| adj.巨大的；恐怖的；可耻的，丢脸的 | |
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114
sobbing
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| <主方>Ⅰ adj.湿透的 | |
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115
shriek
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| v./n.尖叫，叫喊 | |
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116
nostrils
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| 鼻孔( nostril的名词复数 ) | |
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117
sanity
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| n.心智健全，神智正常，判断正确 | |
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118
wretch
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| n.可怜的人，不幸的人；卑鄙的人 | |
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119
veins
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| n.纹理；矿脉( vein的名词复数 )；静脉；叶脉；纹理 | |
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irresolute
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| adj.无决断的，优柔寡断的，踌躇不定的 | |
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121
tilted
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| v. 倾斜的 | |
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