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(单词翻译:双击或拖选)
'Maybe we could have it for dinner,' said Higgins. Kilian shook his head regretfully.
'Bonito are for bait fish,' he said. 'The locals eat them in soups, but they don't taste much good.'
They made a second run through the shoal and there was a second strike. Murgatroyd took the rod with a thrill of excitement. This was the first time he had ever done this and the last he ever would again. When he gripped the cork1 he could feel the shuddering2 of the fish 200 feet down the line as if it were next to him. He turned the clutch slowly forward and eventually the running line was silent and still. The rod tip curved towards the sea. With his left arm tensed he took the strain and was surprised at the strength needed to haul back.
He locked his left arm muscles and began methodically to turn the reel handle with his right. It turned, but it took all his forearm to do it. The pulling power at the other end surprised him. Maybe it was big, he thought, even very big. That was the excitement, he realized. Never quite knowing what giant of the deep was fighting down there in the wake. And if it was nothing much, like Higgins's tiddler, well, the next one could be a monster. He continued turning slowly, feeling his chest heave with the effort. When the fish was 20 yards short of the boat it seemed to give up and the line came quite easily.
He thought he had lost the fish, but it was there. It gave one last tug3 as it came under the stern, then it was over. Jean-Paul gaffed and swung it in. Another bonito, bigger, about 10 pounds.
'It's great, isn't it?' said Higgins excitedly. Murgatroyd nodded and smiled. This would be something to tell them at Ponder's End. Up at the wheel old man Patient set a new course for a patch of deep blue water he could see several miles farther on. He watched his grandson extract the hook from the bonito's mouth and grunted4 something to the boy. The lad undipped the trace and lure5 and put them back in the tackle box. He stowed the rod in its socket6, the small steel swivel clip at the end of the line swinging free. Then he went forward and took the wheel. His grandfather said something to him and pointed7 through the windshield. The boy nodded.
'Aren't we going to use that rod?' asked Higgins.
'Monsieur Patient must have another idea,' said Kilian. 'Leave it to him. He knows what he is doing.'
The old man rolled easily down the heaving deck to where they stood and without a word sat cross-legged in the scuppers, selected the smaller bonito and began to prepare it as bait. The small fish lay hard as a board in death, crescent tail fins9 stiff up and down, mouth half open, tiny black eyes staring at nothing.
Monsieur Patient took from the tackle box a big single-barbed hook to whose shank was stoutly11 spliced12 a 20-inch steel wire, and a 12-inch pointed steel spike13 like a knitting needle. He pushed the point of the spike into the fish's anal orifice and kept pushing until the blood-tipped point emerged from its mouth. To the needle's other end he clipped the steel trace and with pliers drew needle and trace up through the bonito's body until the trace was hanging from its mouth.
The old man pushed the shank of the hook deep into the bonito's belly14, so that all disappeared except the curve and the needle-sharp point with its barb10. This jutted15 stiffly outwards16 and downwards17 from the base of the tail, the tip pointing forward. He drew the rest of the trace out of the fish's mouth until it was taut18.
He produced a much smaller needle, no larger than a housewife would use for her husband's socks, and a yard of cotton twine19 thread. The bonito's single dorsal20 and two ventral fins were lying flat. The old man nicked his cotton through the leading spine21 of the dorsal fin8, whipped it over several times and then pierced the needle through a fold of muscle behind the head. As he drew the thread tight, the dorsal fin erected23, a series of spines24 and membranes25 that give vertical26 stability in the water. He did the same to both ventral fins, and finally sewed the mouth closed with neat and tiny stitches.
When he had finished the bonito looked much as it had in life. Its three body fins stuck out in perfect symmetry to prevent rolling or spinning. Its vertical tail would give direction at speed. The closed mouth would prevent turbulence27 and bubbles. Only the line of steel between its clenched28 lips and the vicious hook hanging from its tail root betrayed the fact that it was baited. Lastly the old fisherman clipped the few inches of trace from the bonito's mouth to the second trace hanging from the rod's tip with a small swivel, and consigned29 the new bait to the ocean. Still staring, the bonito bobbed twice in the wake until the leaden cigar pulled it down to begin its last journey beneath the sea. He let it run 200 feet out, behind the other baits, before he secured the rod again and went back to his command chair. The water beside them had turned from blue-grey to a bright blue-green.
Ten minutes later Higgins took another strike, on the spinner bait this time. He hauled and reeled for a full ten minutes. Whatever he had hooked was fighting with mad fury to be free. They all thought it might be a fair-sized tuna from the weight of its pull, but when it came inboard it was a yard-long, lean, narrow-bodied fish with a golden tint30 to its upper body and fins.
'Dorado,' said Kilian. 'Well done; these lads really fight. And they're good to eat. We'll ask the chef at the St Geran to prepare it for supper.'
The boat boy readjusted the bait and consigned it again to the wake.
The seas were running higher now. Murgatroyd held one of the supports that sustained the timber awning33 over the front part of the deck in order to see better. The Avant was plunging34 more wildly amid great rolling waves. In the troughs they were staring at great walls of water on all sides, running slopes whose sunlit sheen belied35 the terrible strength beneath. On the crests37 they could see for miles the plumed38 white caps of each great wave and westwards the smudged outline of Mauritius on the horizon.
The rollers were coming from the east, shoulder to shoulder, like serried39 ranks of great green guardsmen marching upon the island, only to die in the artillery40 of the reef. He was surprised that he was not feeling queasy41 for he had once felt ill on a ferry crossing from Dover to Boulogne. But that had been a bigger vessel42, hammering and butting44 its way through the waves, its passengers breathing in the odours of oil, cooking fat, fast-food, bar fumes45 and each other. The smaller Avant did not contest the sea; she rode with it, yielding to rise again.
Murgatroyd stared at the water and felt the awe46 that dwells on the edge of fear, so much companion to men in small boats. A craft may be proud, majestic47, expensive and strong in the calm water of a fashionable port, admired by the passing socialite throng48, the showpiece of its rich possessor. Out on the ocean it is sister to the reeking49 trawler, the rusted50 tramp, a poor thing of welded seams and bolted joints51, a frail52 cocoon53 pitting its puny54 strength against unimaginable power, a fragile toy on a giant's palm. Even with four others around him, Murgatroyd sensed the insignificance55 of himself and the impertinent smallness of the boat, the loneliness that the sea can inspire. Those alone who have journeyed on the sea and in the sky, or across the great snows or over desert sands, know the feeling. All are vast, merciless, but most awesome56 of all is the sea, because it moves.
Just after nine o'clock Monsieur Patient muttered something to no one in particular. "Ya quelque chose,' he said.'Nous suit.'
'What did he say?' asked Higgins.
'He said there was something out there,' said Kilian. 'Something following us.'
Higgins stared around him at the tumbling water. There was nothing but water. 'How on earth can he know that?' he asked.
The old man reduced power by a touch and the Avant slowed until she seemed hardly to be making way. The pitching and tossing seemed to increase with the drop of engine power. Higgins swallowed several times as his mouth filled with spittle. At a quarter past the hour one of the rods bucked58 sharply and the line began to run out, not fast but briskly, the clicking of the reel like a football rattle59.
'Yours,' said Kilian to Murgatroyd and jerked the rod out of its socket in the transom to place it in the fishing seat. Murgatroyd came out from the shade and sat in the chair. He tagged the rod butt43 to the dogclip and gripped the cork handle firmly in the left hand. The reel, a big Penn Senator like a beer firkin, was still turning briskly. He began to close the control of the slipping clutch.
The strain on his arm grew and the rod arched. But the line went on running.
The bank manager locked the muscles of his biceps and tightened61 the clutch still further. The tip of the rod went down and down until it was level with his eyes. The running line slowed, recovered, and went on running. Kilian bent62 to look at the clutch. The marks on the inner and outer ring were almost opposite each other.
'That bugger's pulling eighty pounds,' he said. 'You'll have to tighten up some more.'
Murgatroyd's arm was beginning to ache and his fingers were stiffening63 round the cork grip. He turned the clutch control until the twin marks were exactly opposite each other.
'No more,' said Kilian. 'That's a hundred pounds. The limit. Use both hands on the rod and hang on.'
With relief Murgatroyd brought his other hand to the rod, gripped hard with both, placed the soles of his plimsoles against the transom, braced64 his thighs65 and calves66 and leaned back. Nothing happened. The butt of the rod was vertical between his thighs, the tip pointing straight at the wake. And the line kept on running out, slowly, steadily67. The reserve on the drum was diminishing before his eyes.
'Christ,' said Kilian, 'he's big. He's pulling a hundred plus, like tissues from a box. Hang on, man.'
His South African accent was becoming more pronounced in his excitement. Murgatroyd braced his legs again, locked his fingers, wrists, forearms and biceps, hunched68 his shoulders, bent his head and hung on. No one had ever asked him to hold a 100-pound pull before. After three minutes the reel finally stopped turning. Whatever it was down there, it had taken 600 yards of line.
'We'd better get you in the harness,' said Kilian. One arm after the other he slipped the webbing over Murgatroyd's shoulders. Two more straps69 went round the waist and another broader one up from between the thighs. All five locked into a central socket on the belly. Kilian pulled the harness tight. It gave some relief to the legs, but the webbing bit through the cotton tennis shirt in front of the shoulders. For the first time Murgatroyd realized how hot the sun was out here. The tops of his bare thighs began to prick70.
Old Patient had turned round, steering71 one-handed. He had watched the line running out from the start. Without warning he just said, 'Marlin.'
'You're lucky,' said Kilian. 'It seems you've hooked into a marlin.'
'Is that good?' asked Higgins, who had gone pale.
'It's the king of all the game fish,' said Kilian. 'Rich men come down here year after year and spend thousands on the sport, and never get a marlin. But he'll fight you, like you've never seen anything fight in your life.'
Although the line had stopped running out and the fish was swimming with the boat, he had not stopped pulling. The rod tip still arched down to the wake. The fish was still pulling between 70 and 90 pounds.
The four men watched in silence as Murgatroyd hung on. For five minutes he clung to the rod as the sweat burst from forehead and cheeks, running down in drops to his chin. Slowly the rod tip rose as the fish increased speed to ease the pull at his mouth. Kilian crouched72 beside Murgatroyd and began to coach him like a flying instructor73 to a pupil before his first solo flight.
'Reel in now,' he said, 'slowly and surely. Reduce the clutch strain to eighty pounds, for your sake not his. When he makes a break, and he will, let him go and tighten the clutch back to a hundred. Never try to reel in while he's fighting; he'll break your line like cotton. And if he runs towards the boat, reel in like mad. Never give him slack line; he '11 try to spit out the hook.'
Murgatroyd did as he was bid. He managed to reel in 50 yards before the fish made a break. When it did the force nearly tore the rod from the man's grasp. Murgatroyd just had time to swing his other hand to the grip and hold on with both arms. The fish took another 100 yards of line before he stopped his run and began to follow the boat again.
'He's taken six-fifty yards so far,' said Kilian. 'You've only got eight hundred.'
'So what do I do?' asked Murgatroyd between his teeth. The rod slackened and he began winding74 again.
'Pray,' said Kilian. 'You can't hold him over a hundred-pound pull. So if he reaches the end of the line on the drum, he'll just break it.'
'It's getting very hot,' said Murgatroyd.
Kilian looked at his shorts and shirt. 'You'll fry out here,' he said. 'Wait a minute.'
He took off the trousers of his own track suit and slipped them over Murgatroyd's legs, one at a time. Then he pulled them up as far as he could. The webbing harness prevented them reaching Murgatroyd's waist, but at least the thighs and shins were covered. The relief from the sun was immediate75. Kilian took a spare long-sleeved sweater from the cabin. It smelt76 of sweat and fish.
'I'm going to slip this over your head,' he told Murgatroyd, 'but the only way to get it farther is to undo77 the harness for a few seconds. Just hope the marlin doesn't break in those seconds.'
They were lucky. Kilian slipped off the two shoulder straps and pulled the sweater down to Murgatroyd's waist, then reclipped the shoulder straps. The fish just ran with the boat, the line taut but without much strain. With the sweater on, Murgatroyd's arms ceased to hurt so much. Kilian turned round. From his seat old man Patient was holding out his broad-brimmed chip hat. Kilian placed it on Murgatroyd's head. The band of shadow shielded his eyes and gave more relief, but the skin of his face was already red and scorched79. The sun's reflection from the sea can burn worse than the sun itself.
Murgatroyd took advantage of the marlin's passivity to reel in some more line. He had taken 100 yards, each yard making his fingers ache on the reel handle, for there was still a 40-pound strain on the line, when the fish broke again. He took his 100 yards back in thirty seconds, pulling a full 100 pounds against the slipping clutch. Murgatroyd just hunched himself and held on. The webbing bit into him wherever it touched. It was ten o'clock.
In the next hour he began to learn the meaning of pain. His fingers were stiff and throbbed80. His wrists hurt and his forearms sent spasms81 up to his shoulders. The biceps were locked and shoulders screamed. Even beneath the track suit and pullover the merciless sun was beginning to scorch78 his skin again. Three times in that hour he won back 100 yards from the fish; three times the fish broke and clawed back his line.
Kilian stood beside him, an open can of iced beer in his hand. His own legs were bare, but darkened by years in the sun. He seemed not to burn.
'Hang on, man. That's what the battle's about. He has the strength, you have the tackle and the cunning. After that it's all stamina83, yours against his.'
Just after eleven the marlin tail-walked for the first time. Murgatroyd had brought him in to 500 yards. The boat was for a second on the crest36 of a roller. Down the wake the fish came surging out of the side of a wall of green water and Murgatroyd's mouth fell open. The sharp needle beak84 of the upper jaw85 lunged for the sky; below it the shorter lower mandible was hanging open. Above and behind the eye the crested86 dorsal fin, like a cock's comb, was extended and erect22. The glittering bulk of his body followed and as the wave from which he had come ebbed87 from him, the marlin seemed to stand on his crescent tail. His great body shuddered88 as if he were walking on his tail. For one second he was there, staring at them across the waste of whitecaps. Then he crashed back into another moving wall and was gone, deep down to his own cold dark world. Old man Patient spoke89 first to break the silence.
'C'est VEmpereur,' he said.
The old man just nodded.
'What did he say?' asked Higgins.
Murgatroyd stared at the spot where the fish had gone. Then, slowly and steadily, he began to reel in again.
'They know this fish around here,' said Kilian. 'If it's the same one, and I've never known the old man be wrong, he's a blue marlin, estimated to be bigger than the world record of eleven hundred pounds, which means he must be old and cunning. They call him the Emperor. He's a legend to the fishermen.'
'But how could they know one particular fish?' said Higgins. 'They all look alike.'
'This one's been hooked twice,' said Kilian. 'He broke the line twice. But the second time he was close to the boat, off Riviere Noire. They saw the first hook hanging from his mouth. Then he broke line at the last minute and took another hook with him. Each time he was hooked he tail-walked several times and they all got a good look at him. Someone took a photograph of him in mid-air, so he's well known. I couldn't identify him at five hundred yards, but Patient for all his years has eyes like a gannet.'
By midday Murgatroyd was looking old and sick. He sat hunched over his rod, in a world of his own, alone with his pain and some inner determination that he had never felt before. The palms of both hands were running water from the burst blisters91, the sweat-damp webbing cut cruelly into sunflayed shoulders. He bowed his head and reeled in line.
Sometimes it came easy as if the fish too were taking a rest. When the strain came off the line the relief was a pleasure so exquisite92 that he could never later describe it. When the rod was bent and all his aching muscles locked again against the fish the pain was like nothing he could have imagined.
Just after noon Kilian crouched down beside him and offered him another beer. 'Look, man, you're pretty crook93. It's been three hours, and really you're not fit enough. There's no need to kill yourself. If you need any help, a short rest, just say.'
Murgatroyd shook his head. His lips were split from sun and salt-spray.
'My fish,' he said, 'leave me alone.'
The battle went on as the sun hammered down onto the deck. Old Patient perched like a wise brown cormorant94 on his high stool, one hand on the wheel, the engines set just above the idle, his head turned to scan the wake for a sign of the Emperor. Jean-Paul was crouched in the shade of the awning, having long since reeled in and stowed the other three rods. No one was after bonito now, and extra lines would only tangle95. Higgins had finally succumbed96 to the swell97 and sat miserably98 head down over a bucket into which he had deposited the sandwiches he had taken for brunch99 and two bottles of beer. Kilian sat facing him and sucked at his fifth cold lager. Occasionally they looked at the hunched, scarecrow figure under his native hat in the swivel chair and listened to the tickety-tickety-tick of the incoming reel or the despairing ziiiiiiing as the line went back out again.
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1
cork
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| n.软木，软木塞 | |
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shuddering
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| v.战栗( shudder的现在分词 )；发抖；（机器、车辆等）突然震动；颤动 | |
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tug
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| v.用力拖(或拉)；苦干；n.拖；苦干；拖船 | |
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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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lure
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| n.吸引人的东西，诱惑物；vt.引诱，吸引 | |
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socket
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| n.窝，穴，孔，插座，插口 | |
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pointed
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| adj.尖的，直截了当的 | |
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fin
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| n.鳍；(飞机的)安定翼 | |
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fins
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| [医]散热片；鱼鳍；飞边；鸭掌 | |
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barb
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| n.（鱼钩等的）倒钩，倒刺 | |
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stoutly
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| adv.牢固地，粗壮的 | |
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spliced
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| adj.（针织品）加固的n.叠接v.绞接( splice的过去式和过去分词 )；捻接（两段绳子）；胶接；粘接（胶片、磁带等） | |
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13
spike
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| n.长钉，钉鞋；v.以大钉钉牢，使...失效 | |
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14
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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15
jutted
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| v.（使）突出( jut的过去式和过去分词 )；伸出；（从…）突出；高出 | |
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16
outwards
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| adj.外面的，公开的，向外的；adv.向外；n.外形 | |
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downwards
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| adj./adv.向下的（地），下行的（地） | |
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taut
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| adj.拉紧的，绷紧的，紧张的 | |
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twine
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| v.搓，织，编饰；（使）缠绕 | |
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dorsal
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| adj.背部的，背脊的 | |
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spine
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| n.脊柱，脊椎；(动植物的)刺；书脊 | |
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erect
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| n./v.树立，建立，使竖立；adj.直立的，垂直的 | |
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23
ERECTED
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| adj. 直立的，竖立的，笔直的 vt. 使 ... 直立，建立 | |
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24
spines
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| n.脊柱( spine的名词复数 )；脊椎；（动植物的）刺；书脊 | |
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25
membranes
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| n.（动物或植物体内的）薄膜( membrane的名词复数 )；隔膜；（可起防水、防风等作用的）膜状物 | |
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vertical
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| adj.垂直的，顶点的，纵向的；n.垂直物，垂直的位置 | |
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turbulence
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| n.喧嚣，狂暴，骚乱，湍流 | |
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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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consigned
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| v.把…置于（令人不快的境地）( consign的过去式和过去分词 )；把…托付给；把…托人代售；丟弃 | |
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30
tint
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| n.淡色，浅色；染发剂；vt.着以淡淡的颜色 | |
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runaway
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| n.逃走的人，逃亡，亡命者；adj.逃亡的，逃走的 | |
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gasped
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| v.喘气( gasp的过去式和过去分词 )；喘息；倒抽气；很想要 | |
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awning
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| n.遮阳篷；雨篷 | |
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plunging
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| adj.跳进的，突进的v.颠簸( plunge的现在分词 )；暴跌；骤降；突降 | |
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35
belied
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| v.掩饰( belie的过去式和过去分词 )；证明（或显示）…为虚假；辜负；就…扯谎 | |
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36
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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37
crests
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| v.到达山顶（或浪峰）( crest的第三人称单数 )；到达洪峰，达到顶点 | |
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38
plumed
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| 饰有羽毛的 | |
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serried
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| adj.拥挤的；密集的 | |
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40
artillery
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| n.(军)火炮，大炮；炮兵(部队) | |
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41
queasy
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| adj.易呕的 | |
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42
vessel
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| n.船舶；容器，器皿；管，导管，血管 | |
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43
butt
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| n.笑柄；烟蒂；枪托；臀部；v.用头撞或顶 | |
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44
butting
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| 用头撞人（犯规动作） | |
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45
fumes
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| n.(强烈而刺激的)气味，气体 | |
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46
awe
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| n.敬畏，惊惧；vt.使敬畏，使惊惧 | |
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47
majestic
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| adj.雄伟的，壮丽的，庄严的，威严的，崇高的 | |
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48
throng
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| n.人群，群众；v.拥挤，群集 | |
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49
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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50
rusted
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| v.（使）生锈( rust的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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51
joints
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| 接头( joint的名词复数 )； 关节； 公共场所（尤指价格低廉的饮食和娱乐场所） （非正式）； 一块烤肉 （英式英语） | |
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52
frail
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| adj.身体虚弱的；易损坏的 | |
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53
cocoon
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| n.茧 | |
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54
puny
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| adj.微不足道的，弱小的 | |
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55
insignificance
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| n.不重要；无价值；无意义 | |
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56
awesome
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| adj.令人惊叹的，难得吓人的，很好的 | |
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57
shrugged
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| vt.耸肩（shrug的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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58
bucked
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| adj.快v.（马等）猛然弓背跃起( buck的过去式和过去分词 )；抵制；猛然震荡；马等尥起后蹄跳跃 | |
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59
rattle
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| v.飞奔，碰响；激怒；n.碰撞声；拨浪鼓 | |
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60
tighten
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| v.(使)变紧；(使)绷紧 | |
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61
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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62
bent
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| n.爱好，癖好；adj.弯的；决心的，一心的 | |
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63
stiffening
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| n. (使衣服等)变硬的材料, 硬化 动词stiffen的现在分词形式 | |
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64
braced
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| adj.拉牢的v.支住( brace的过去式和过去分词 )；撑牢；使自己站稳；振作起来 | |
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65
thighs
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| n.股，大腿( thigh的名词复数 )；食用的鸡（等的）腿 | |
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66
calves
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| n.(calf的复数)笨拙的男子，腓；腿肚子( calf的名词复数 )；牛犊；腓；小腿肚v.生小牛( calve的第三人称单数 )；（冰川）崩解；生（小牛等），产（犊）；使（冰川）崩解 | |
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67
steadily
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| adv.稳定地；不变地；持续地 | |
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68
hunched
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| （常指因寒冷、生病或愁苦）耸肩弓身的，伏首前倾的 | |
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69
straps
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| n.带子( strap的名词复数 )；挎带；肩带；背带v.用皮带捆扎( strap的第三人称单数 )；用皮带抽打；包扎；给…打绷带 | |
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70
prick
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| v.刺伤，刺痛，刺孔；n.刺伤，刺痛 | |
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71
steering
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| n.操舵装置 | |
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72
crouched
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| v.屈膝，蹲伏( crouch的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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73
instructor
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| n.指导者，教员，教练 | |
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74
winding
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| n.绕，缠，绕组，线圈 | |
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75
immediate
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| adj.立即的；直接的，最接近的；紧靠的 | |
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76
smelt
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| v.熔解，熔炼；n.银白鱼，胡瓜鱼 | |
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77
undo
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| vt.解开，松开；取消，撤销 | |
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78
scorch
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| v.烧焦，烤焦；高速疾驶；n.烧焦处，焦痕 | |
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79
scorched
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| 烧焦，烤焦( scorch的过去式和过去分词 )； 使（植物）枯萎，把…晒枯； 高速行驶； 枯焦 | |
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80
throbbed
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| 抽痛( throb的过去式和过去分词 )； （心脏、脉搏等）跳动 | |
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81
spasms
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| n.痉挛( spasm的名词复数 )；抽搐；（能量、行为等的）突发；发作 | |
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82
gritted
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| v.以沙砾覆盖（某物），撒沙砾于( grit的过去式和过去分词 )；咬紧牙关 | |
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83
stamina
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| n.体力；精力；耐力 | |
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84
beak
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| n.鸟嘴，茶壶嘴，钩形鼻 | |
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85
jaw
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| n.颚，颌，说教，流言蜚语；v.喋喋不休，教训 | |
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86
crested
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| adj.有顶饰的，有纹章的，有冠毛的v.到达山顶（或浪峰）( crest的过去式和过去分词 )；到达洪峰，达到顶点 | |
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87
ebbed
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| （指潮水）退( ebb的过去式和过去分词 )； 落； 减少； 衰落 | |
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88
shuddered
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| v.战栗( shudder的过去式和过去分词 )；发抖；（机器、车辆等）突然震动；颤动 | |
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89
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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90
spun
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| v.纺，杜撰，急转身 | |
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91
blisters
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| n.水疱( blister的名词复数 )；水肿；气泡 | |
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92
exquisite
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| adj.精美的；敏锐的；剧烈的，感觉强烈的 | |
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93
crook
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| v.使弯曲；n.小偷，骗子，贼；弯曲(处) | |
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94
cormorant
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| n.鸬鹚，贪婪的人 | |
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95
tangle
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| n.纠缠；缠结；混乱；v.(使)缠绕；变乱 | |
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96
succumbed
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| 不再抵抗（诱惑、疾病、攻击等）( succumb的过去式和过去分词 )； 屈从； 被压垮； 死 | |
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97
swell
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| vi.膨胀，肿胀；增长，增强 | |
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98
miserably
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| adv.痛苦地；悲惨地；糟糕地；极度地 | |
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99
brunch
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| n.早午餐 | |
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