-
(单词翻译:双击或拖选)
The Egotists’ Club is one of the most genial1 places in London. It is a place to which you may go when you want to tell that odd dream you had last night, or to announce what a good dentist you have discovered. You can write letters there if you like, and have the temperament2 of a Jane Austen, for there is no silence room, and it would be a breach3 of club manners to appear busy or absorbed when another member addresses you. You must not mention golf or fish, however, and, if the Hon. Freddy Arbuthnot’s motion is carried at the next committee meeting (and opinion so far appears very favourable), you will not be allowed to mention wireless4 either. As Lord Peter Wimsey said when the matter was mooted5 the other day in the smoking-room, those are things you can talk about anywhere. Otherwise the club is not specially6 exclusive. Nobody is ineligible7 per se, except strong, silent men. Nominees8 are, however, required to pass certain tests, whose nature is sufficiently9 indicated by the fact that a certain distinguished10 explorer came to grief through accepting, and smoking, a powerful Trichinopoly cigar as an accompaniment to a ’63 port. On the other hand, dear old Sir Roger Bunt (the coster millionaire who won the £20,000 ballot11 offered by the Sunday Shriek12, and used it to found his immense catering13 business in the Midlands) was highly commended and unanimously elected after declaring frankly14 that beer and a pipe were all he really cared for in that way. As Lord Peter said again: ‘Nobody minds coarseness, but one must draw the line at cruelty.’
On this particular evening, Masterman (the cubist poet) had brought a guest with him, a man named Varden. Varden had started life as a professional athlete, but a strained heart had obliged him to cut short a brilliant career, and turn his handsome face and remarkably15 beautiful body to account in the service of the cinema screen. He had come to London from Los Angeles to stimulate16 publicity17 for his great new film, Marathon, and turned out to be quite a pleasant, unspoiled person – greatly to the relief of the club, since Masterman’s guests were apt to be something of a toss-up.
There were only eight men, including Varden, in the brown room that evening. This, with its panelled walls, shaded lamps, and heavy blue curtains was perhaps the cosiest18 and pleasantest of the small smoking-rooms, of which the club possessed19 half a dozen or so. The conversation had begun quite casually20 by Armstrong’s relating a curious little incident which he had witnessed that afternoon at the Temple Station, and Bayes had gone on to say that that was nothing to the really very odd thing which had happened to him, personally, in a thick fog one night in the Euston Road.
Masterman said that the more secluded21 London squares teemed22 with subjects for a writer, and instanced his own singular encounter with a weeping woman and a dead monkey, and then Judson took up the tale and narrated23 how, in a lonely suburb, late at night, he had come upon the dead body of a woman stretched on the pavement with a knife in her side and a policeman standing24 motionless near by. He had asked if he could do anything, but the policeman had only said, ‘I wouldn’t interfere25 if I was you, sir; she deserved what she got.’ Judson said he had not been able to get the incident out of his mind, and then Pettifer told them of a queer case in his own medical practice, when a totally unknown man had led him to a house in Bloomsbury where there was a woman suffering from strychnine poisoning. This man had helped him in the most intelligent manner all night, and, when the patient was out of danger, had walked straight out of the house and never reappeared; the odd thing being that, when he (Pettifer) questioned the woman, she answered in great surprise that she had never seen the man in her life and had taken him to be Pettifer’s assistant.
‘That reminds me,’ said Varden, ‘of something still stranger that happened to me once in New York – I’ve never been able to make out whether it was a madman or a practical joke, or whether I really had a very narrow shave.’
‘Well, it really started ages ago,’ said the actor, ‘seven years it must have been – just before America came into the war. I was twenty-five at the time, and had been in the film business a little over two years. There was a man called Eric P. Loder, pretty well known in New York at that period, who would have been a very fine sculptor27 if he hadn’t had more money than was good for him, or so I understood from the people who go in for that kind of thing. He used to exhibit a good deal and had a lot of one-man shows of his stuff to which the highbrow people went – he did a good many bronzes, I believe. Perhaps you know about him, Masterman?’
‘I’ve never seen any of his things,’ said the poet, ‘but I remember some photographs in The Art of Tomorrow. Clever, but rather over-ripe. Didn’t he go in for a lot of that chryselephantine stuff? Just to show he could afford to pay for the materials, I suppose.’
‘Yes, that sounds very like him.’
‘Of course – and he did a very slick and very ugly realistic group called Lucina, and had the impudence28 to have it cast in solid gold and stood in his front hall.’
‘Oh, that thing! Yes – simply beastly I thought it, but then I never could see anything artistic29 in the idea. Realism, I suppose you’d call it. I like a picture or a statue to make you feel good, or what’s it there for? Still, there was something very attractive about Loder.’
‘How did you come across him?’
‘Oh, yes. Well, he saw me in that little picture of mine, Apollo comes to New York – perhaps you remember it. It was my first star part. About a statue that’s brought to life – one of the old gods, you know – and how he gets on in a modern city. Dear old Reubenssohn produced it. Now, there was a man who could put a thing through with consummate30 artistry. You couldn’t find an atom of offence from beginning to end, it was all so tasteful, though in the first part one didn’t have anything to wear except a sort of scarf – taken from the classical statue, you know.’
‘The Belvedere?’
‘I dare say. Well. Loder wrote to me, and said as a sculptor he was interested in me, because I was a good shape and so on, and would I come and pay him a visit in New York when I was free. So I found out about Loder, and decided31 it would be good publicity, and when my contract was up, and I had a bit of time to fill in, I went up east and called on him. He was very decent to me, and asked me to stay a few weeks with him while I was looking around.
‘He had a magnificent great house about five miles out of the city, crammed32 full of pictures and antiques and so on. He was somewhere between thirty-five and forty, I should think, dark and smooth, and very quick and lively in his movements. He talked very well; seemed to have been everywhere and have seen everything and not to have any too good opinion of anybody. You could sit and listen to him for hours; he’d got anecdotes33 about everybody, from the Pope to old Phineas E. Groot of the Chicago Ring. The only kind of story I didn’t care about hearing from him was the improper34 sort. Not that I don’t enjoy an after-dinner story – no sir, I wouldn’t like you to think I was a prig – but he’d tell it with his eye upon you as if he suspected you of having something to do with it. I’ve known women do that, and I’ve seen men do it to women and seen the women squirm, but he was the only man that’s ever given me that feeling. Still, apart from that, Loder was the most fascinating fellow I’ve ever known. And, as I say, his house surely was beautiful, and he kept a first-class table.
‘He liked to have everything of the best. There was his mistress, Maria Morano. I don’t think I’ve ever seen anything to touch her, and when you work for the screen you’re apt to have a pretty exacting36 standard of female beauty. She was one of those big, slow, beautifully moving creatures, very placid38, with a slow, wide smile. We don’t grow them in the States. She’d come from the South – had been a cabaret dancer he said, and she didn’t contradict him. He was very proud of her, and she seemed to be devoted39 to him in her own fashion. He’d show her off in the studio with nothing on but a fig-leaf or so – stand her up beside one of the figures he was always doing of her, and compare them point by point. There was literally40 only one half inch of her, it seemed, that wasn’t absolutely perfect from the sculptor’s point of view – the second toe of her left foot was shorter than the big toe. He used to correct it, of course, in the statues. She’d listen to it all with a good-natured smile, sort of vaguely41 flattered, you know. Though I think the poor girl sometimes got tired of being gloated over that way. She’d sometimes hunt me out and confide42 to me that what she had always hoped for was to run a restaurant of her own, with a cabaret show and a great many cooks with white aprons43, and lots of polished electric cookers. ‘And then I would marry,’ she’d say, ‘and have four sons and one daughter,’ and she told me all the names she had chosen for the family. I thought it was rather pathetic. Loder came in at the end of one of these conversations. He had a sort of a grin on, so I dare say he’d overheard. I don’t suppose he attached much importance to it, which shows that he never really understood the girl. I don’t think he ever imagined any woman would chuck up the sort of life he’d accustomed her to, and if he was a bit possessive in his manner, at least he never gave her a rival. For all his talk and his ugly statues, she’d got him, and she knew it.
‘I stayed there getting on for a month altogether, having a thundering good time. On two occasions Loder had an art spasm44, and shut himself up in his studio to work and wouldn’t let anybody in for several days on end. He was rather given to that sort of stunt45, and when it was over we would have a party, and all Loder’s friends and hangers-on would come to have a look at the work of art. He was doing a figure of some nymph or goddess, I fancy, to be cast in silver, and Maria used to go along and sit for him. Apart from those times, he went about everywhere, and we saw all there was to be seen.
‘I was fairly annoyed, I admit, when it came to an end. War was declared, and I’d made up my mind to join up when that happened. My heart put me out of the running for trench46 service, but I counted on getting some sort of a job, with perseverance47, so I packed up and went off.
‘I wouldn’t have believed Loder would have been so genuinely sorry to say good-bye to me. He said over and over again that we’d meet again soon. However, I did get a job with the hospital people, and was sent over to Europe, and it wasn’t until 1920 that I saw Loder again.
‘He’d written to me before, but I’d had two big pictures to make in ’19, and it couldn’t be done. However, in ’20 I found myself back in New York, doing publicity for The Passion Streak48, and got a note from Loder begging me to stay with him, and saying he wanted me to sit for him. Well, that was advertisement that he’d pay for himself, you know, so I agreed. I had accepted an engagement to go out with Mystofilms Ltd in Jake of Dead Man’s Bush – the dwarfmen picture, you know, taken on the spot among the Australian bushmen. I wired them that I would join them at Sydney the third week in April, and took my bags to Loder’s.
‘Loder greeted me very cordially, though I thought he looked older than when I last saw him. He had certainly grown more nervous in his manner. He was – how shall I describe it? – more intense – more real, in a way. He brought out his pet cynicisms as if he thoroughly49 meant them, and more and more with that air of getting at you personally. I used to think his disbelief in everything was a kind of artistic pose, but I began to feel I had done him an injustice50. He was really unhappy, I could see that quite well, and soon I discovered the reason. As we were driving out in the car I asked after Maria.
‘“She has left me,”’ he said.
‘Well, now you know, that really surprised me. Honestly, I hadn’t thought the girl had that much initiative. “Why,” I said, “has she gone and set up in that restaurant of her own she wanted so much?”
‘“Oh! she talked to you about restaurants, did she?” said Loder. “I suppose you are one of the men that women tell things to. No. She made a fool of herself. She’s gone.”
‘I didn’t quite know what to say. He was so obviously hurt in his vanity, you know, as well as in his feelings. I muttered the usual things, and added that it must be a great loss to his work as well as in other ways. He said it was.
‘I asked him when it had happened and whether he’d finished the nymph he was working on before I left. He said, “Oh, yes, he’d finished that and done another – something pretty original, which I should like.”
‘Well, we got to the house and dined, and Loder told me he was going to Europe shortly, a few days after I left myself, in fact. The nymph stood in the dining-room, in a special niche51 let into the wall. It really was a beautiful thing, not so showy as most of Loder’s work, and a wonderful likeness52 of Maria. Loder put me opposite it, so that I could see it during dinner, and, really, I could hardly take my eyes off it. He seemed very proud of it, and kept on telling me over and over again how glad he was that I liked it. It struck me that he was falling into a trick of repeating himself.
‘We went into the smoking-room after dinner. He’d had it rearranged, and the first thing that caught one’s eye was a big settee drawn53 before the fire. It stood about a couple of feet from the ground, and consisted of a base made like a Roman couch, with cushions and a highish back, all made of oak with a silver inlay, and on top of this, forming the actual seat one sat on, if you follow me, there was a great silver figure of a nude54 woman, fully37 life-size, lying with her head back and her arms extended along the sides of the couch. A few big loose cushions made it possible to use the thing as an actual settee, though I must say it never was really comfortable to sit on respectably. As a stage prop35. for registering dissipation it would have been excellent, but to see Loder sprawling55 over it by his own fireside gave me a kind of shock. He seemed very much attached to it, though.
‘“I told you,” he said, “that it was something original.”
‘Then I looked more closely at it, and saw that the figure actually was Maria’s, though the face was rather sketchily56 done, if you understand what I mean. I suppose he thought a bolder treatment more suited to a piece of furniture.
‘But I did begin to think Loder a trifle degenerate57 when I saw that couch. And in the fortnight that followed I grew more and more uncomfortable with him. That personal manner of his grew more marked every day, and sometimes, while I was giving him sittings, he would sit there and tell one the most beastly things, with his eyes fixed58 on one in the nastiest way, just to see how one would take it. Upon my word, though he certainly did me uncommonly59 well, I began to feel I’d be more at ease among the bushmen.
‘Well, now I come to the odd thing.’
Everybody sat up and listened a little more eagerly.
‘It was the evening before I had to leave New York,’ went on Varden. ‘I was sitting—’
Here somebody opened the door of the brown room, to be greeted by a warning sign from Bayes. The intruder sank obscurely into a large chair and mixed himself a whisky with extreme care not to disturb the speaker.
‘I was sitting in the smoking-room,’ continued Varden, ‘waiting for Loder to come in. I had the house to myself, for Loder had given the servants leave to go to some show or lecture or other, and he himself was getting his things together for his European trip and had had to keep an appointment with his man of business. I must have been very nearly asleep, because it was dusk when I came to with a start and saw a young man quite close to me.
‘He wasn’t at all like a housebreaker, and still less like a ghost. He was, I might almost say, exceptionally ordinary-looking. He was dressed in a grey English suit, with a fawn60 overcoat on his arm, and his soft hat and stick in his hand. He had sleek61, pale hair, and one of those rather stupid faces, with a long nose and a monocle. I stared at him, for I knew the front door was locked, but before I could get my wits together he spoke62. He had a curious, hesitating, husky voice and a strong English accent. He said, surprisingly:
‘“Are you Mr Varden?”
‘“You have the advantage of me,” I said.
‘He said, “Please excuse my butting63 in; I know it looks like bad manners, but you’d better clear out of this place very quickly, don’t you know.”
‘“What the hell do you mean?” I said.
‘He said, “I don’t mean it in any impertinent way, but you must realise that Loder’s never forgiven you, and I’m afraid he means to make you into a hatstand or an electric-light fitting, or something of that sort.”
‘My God! I can tell you I felt queer. It was such a quiet voice, and his manners were perfect, and yet the words were quite meaningless! I remembered that madmen are supposed to be extra strong, and edged towards the bell – and then it came over me with rather a chill that I was alone in the house.
‘“How did you get here?” I asked, putting a bold face on it.
‘“I’m afraid I picked the lock,” he said, as casually as though he were apologising for not having a card about him. “I couldn’t be sure Loder hadn’t came back. But I do really think you had better get out as quickly as possible.”
‘“See here,” I said, “who are you and what the hell are you driving at? What do you mean about Loder never forgiving me? Forgiving me what?”
‘“Why,” he said, “about – you will pardon me prancing64 in on your private affairs, won’t you – about Maria Morano.”
‘“What about her, in the devil’s name?” I cried. “What do you know about her, anyway? She went off while I was at the war. What’s it to do with me?”
‘“Oh!” said the very odd young man, “I beg your pardon. Perhaps I have been relying too much on Loder’s judgement. Damned foolish; but the possibility of his being mistaken did not occur to me. He fancies you were Maria Morano’s lover when you were here last time.”
‘“Maria’s lover?” I said. “Preposterous! She went off with her man, whoever he was. He must know she didn’t go with me.”
‘“Maria never left the house,” said the young man, “and if you don’t get out of it this moment, I won’t answer for your ever leaving, either.”
‘“In God’s name,” I cried, exasperated65, “what do you mean?”
‘The man turned and threw the blue cushions off the foot of the silver couch.
‘“Have you ever examined the toes of this?” he asked.
‘“Not particularly,” I said, more and more astonished. “Why should I?”
‘“Did you ever know Loder make any figure of her but this with that short toe on the left foot?” he went on.
‘Well, I did take a look at it then, and saw it was as he said – the left foot had a short second toe.
‘“So it is,” I said, “but, after all, why not?”
‘“Why not, indeed?” said the young man. “Wouldn’t you like to see why, of all the figures Loder made of Maria Morano, this is the only one that has the feet of the living woman?”
‘“Look!” he said.
‘With a lot more strength than I should have expected from him, he brought the head of the poker down with a heavy crack on the silver couch. It struck one of the arms of the figure neatly67 at the elbow-joint, smashing a jagged hole in the silver. He wrenched68 at the arm and brought it away. It was hollow, and, as I am alive, I tell you there was a long, dry arm-bone inside it!’
点击
收听单词发音
收听单词发音 |
1
genial
|
|
| adj.亲切的，和蔼的，愉快的，脾气好的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
2
temperament
|
|
| n.气质，性格，性情 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
3
breach
|
|
| n.违反，不履行；破裂；vt.冲破，攻破 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
4
wireless
|
|
| adj.无线的；n.无线电 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
5
mooted
|
|
| adj.未决定的，有争议的，有疑问的v.提出…供讨论( moot的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
6
specially
|
|
| adv.特定地；特殊地；明确地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
7
ineligible
|
|
| adj.无资格的，不适当的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
8
nominees
|
|
| n.被提名者，被任命者( nominee的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
9
sufficiently
|
|
| adv.足够地，充分地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
10
distinguished
|
|
| adj.卓越的，杰出的，著名的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
11
ballot
|
|
| n.（不记名）投票，投票总数，投票权；vi.投票 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
12
shriek
|
|
| v./n.尖叫，叫喊 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
13
catering
|
|
| n. 给养 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
14
frankly
|
|
| adv.坦白地，直率地；坦率地说 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
15
remarkably
|
|
| ad.不同寻常地，相当地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
16
stimulate
|
|
| vt.刺激，使兴奋；激励，使…振奋 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
17
publicity
|
|
| n.众所周知，闻名；宣传，广告 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
18
cosiest
|
|
| adj.温暖舒适的( cosy的最高级 )；亲切友好的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
|
19
possessed
|
|
| adj.疯狂的；拥有的，占有的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
20
casually
|
|
| adv.漠不关心地，无动于衷地，不负责任地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
21
secluded
|
|
| adj.与世隔绝的；隐退的；偏僻的v.使隔开，使隐退( seclude的过去式和过去分词) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
22
teemed
|
|
| v.充满( teem的过去式和过去分词 )；到处都是；（指水、雨等）暴降；倾注 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
23
narrated
|
|
| v.故事( narrate的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
24
standing
|
|
| n.持续，地位；adj.永久的，不动的，直立的，不流动的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
25
interfere
|
|
| v.(in)干涉，干预；(with)妨碍，打扰 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
26
promising
|
|
| adj.有希望的，有前途的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
27
sculptor
|
|
| n.雕刻家，雕刻家 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
28
impudence
|
|
| n.厚颜无耻；冒失；无礼 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
29
artistic
|
|
| adj.艺术(家)的，美术(家)的；善于艺术创作的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
30
consummate
|
|
| adj.完美的；v.成婚；使完美 [反]baffle | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
31
decided
|
|
| adj.决定了的，坚决的；明显的，明确的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
32
crammed
|
|
| adj.塞满的，挤满的；大口地吃；快速贪婪地吃v.把…塞满；填入；临时抱佛脚( cram的过去式) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
33
anecdotes
|
|
| n.掌故，趣闻，轶事( anecdote的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
34
improper
|
|
| adj.不适当的，不合适的，不正确的，不合礼仪的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
35
prop
|
|
| vt.支撑；n.支柱，支撑物；支持者，靠山 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
36
exacting
|
|
| adj.苛求的，要求严格的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
37
fully
|
|
| adv.完全地，全部地，彻底地；充分地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
38
placid
|
|
| adj.安静的，平和的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
39
devoted
|
|
| adj.忠诚的，忠实的，热心的，献身于...的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
40
literally
|
|
| adv.照字面意义，逐字地；确实 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
41
vaguely
|
|
| adv.含糊地，暖昧地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
42
confide
|
|
| v.向某人吐露秘密 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
43
aprons
|
|
| 围裙( apron的名词复数 )； 停机坪，台口（舞台幕前的部份） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
44
spasm
|
|
| n.痉挛，抽搐；一阵发作 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
45
stunt
|
|
| n.惊人表演，绝技，特技；vt.阻碍...发育，妨碍...生长 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
46
trench
|
|
| n./v.(挖)沟，(挖)战壕 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
47
perseverance
|
|
| n.坚持不懈，不屈不挠 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
48
streak
|
|
| n.条理，斑纹，倾向，少许，痕迹；v.加条纹，变成条纹，奔驰，快速移动 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
49
thoroughly
|
|
| adv.完全地，彻底地，十足地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
50
injustice
|
|
| n.非正义，不公正，不公平，侵犯（别人的）权利 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
51
niche
|
|
| n.壁龛；合适的职务(环境、位置等) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
52
likeness
|
|
| n.相像，相似（之处） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
53
drawn
|
|
| v.拖，拉，拔出；adj.憔悴的，紧张的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
54
nude
|
|
| adj.裸体的；n.裸体者，裸体艺术品 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
55
sprawling
|
|
| adj.蔓生的，不规则地伸展的v.伸开四肢坐[躺]( sprawl的现在分词 )；蔓延；杂乱无序地拓展；四肢伸展坐着（或躺着） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
56
sketchily
|
|
| adv.写生风格地，大略地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
57
degenerate
|
|
| v.退步，堕落；adj.退步的，堕落的；n.堕落者 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
58
fixed
|
|
| adj.固定的，不变的，准备好的；(计算机)固定的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
59
uncommonly
|
|
| adv. 稀罕(极，非常) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
60
fawn
|
|
| n.未满周岁的小鹿；v.巴结，奉承 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
61
sleek
|
|
| adj.光滑的，井然有序的；v.使光滑，梳拢 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
62
spoke
|
|
| n.（车轮的）辐条；轮辐；破坏某人的计划；阻挠某人的行动 v.讲，谈（speak的过去式）；说；演说；从某种观点来说 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
63
butting
|
|
| 用头撞人（犯规动作） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
64
prancing
|
|
| v.（马）腾跃( prance的现在分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
65
exasperated
|
|
| adj.恼怒的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
66
poker
|
|
| n.扑克；vt.烙制 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
67
neatly
|
|
| adv.整洁地，干净地，灵巧地，熟练地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
68
wrenched
|
|
| v.（猛力地）扭( wrench的过去式和过去分词 )；扭伤；使感到痛苦；使悲痛 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
购买
在百度中搜索