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He never does it to a 'somebody, 'cause that would cost him his place, but when a 'nobody' has a droll name, he jist gives an accent, or a sly twist to it, that folks can't help a larfin', no more than Mr. Nobody can feelin' like a fool. He's a droll boy, that; I should like to know him.
"I've been a soldier of fortune all my life, and that's how I'm going to die. Poor, most of the time. Well, I'm going to die rich!" His philippic against poverty and discipline tumbled out in a torrent of wild words, strongly tinged with the Irish accent that marked his passionate excitement. He sprang to his feet, and raging faced his superior officer.
He, perhaps, could have given Madame Lavilette the best advice and warning; but, in truth, he enjoyed what he considered a piquant position. Once, drawing at his pipe, as little like an Englishman as possible, he tried to say with an English accent, "Amusing and awkward situation!" but he said, "Damn funny and chic!" instead.
"What, is it you, Edmond, back again?" said he, with a broad Marseillaise accent, and a grin that displayed his ivory-white teeth. "Yes, as you see, neighbor Caderousse; and ready to be agreeable to you in any and every way," replied Dantes, but ill-concealing his coldness under this cloak of civility.
It was some time before he was discovered; not, indeed, till an apple, tumbling down from a branch of a tree, chanced to hit the very tip of his little gray nose. Thereupon he uttered a surprised "me-ow," with an accent that belonged to George W. alone. "There's that cat, coming along, too," observed Hilda, "isn't he a little tag-tail?"
A period of quiet elapses, during which, for the sake of appearances, I turn over a page. By-and-by, he speaks. "Algy is your eldest brother, is not he? get away, you little beast!" "I thought so," with a slight accent of satisfaction.
ROMNEY, with a fancy entirely his own, would give vent to his effusions, uttered in a hurried accent and elevated tone, and often accompanied by tears, to which by constitution he was prone; thus Cumberland, from personal intimacy, describes the conversation of this man of genius.
In his travels throughout England Mr Rannoch had lost most of his Scotch accent, but he had not lost his Scotch skill in the art and craft of trying to pay less than other folks for whatever he might happen to want. Assuredly the idea was an idea of genius. As an advertisement it would be indeed colossal and unique.
Worse they have encouraged it! Have you never heard an American, woman say: 'Oh, I can't bear a man around the house! They are so in the way! Or, 'I let my husband's business alone. I want him to let " He imitated an accent so familiar to Lydia that she winced. "Oh, don't!" she said. "I see all that." "You must find few to see with you." "But how to change it?"
There was nothing foreign in his accent, except that he seemed in his slow enunciation to be taking pains with it. And Mrs Verloc, in her varied experience, had come to the conclusion that some foreigners could speak better English than the natives. She said, looking at the door of the parlour fixedly: “You don’t think perhaps of staying in England for good?”
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