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Yet I have asked you forth upon it as men of the H. B. C. because the man I would save is a factor of the Great Company." "Ma'amselle," said Bitte Alloybeau, a splendid black-browed fellow, "it is enough." "Aye, and more." So was bound their simple allegiance.
They were most amiable multitudes, March thought, and they responded docilely to the entreaties of the policemen who stood on the steps of the bridges, and divided their encountering currents with patient appeals of "Bitte schon! Bitte schon!" He laughed to think of a New York cop saying "Please prettily!
He represented "Materialindex," and called out loudly, "Ich bitte mich nicht zu vergessen. Ich bin auch da." I was "Methode," which nobody wanted to claim; whereat I wept. I am looking at the flashlight picture of us all at this moment. Then came the dancing, and then at about four o'clock the walk home in the moonlight, by the old castle ruin in Handschusheim, singing the German student-songs.
But I had an idea, Hannah, that you were one of the people who could manage pretty well to be happy with things as they came." Hannah flushed and buried her face on Miss Lyndesay's shoulder. Frieda looked restless. "Bitte, sprechen Sie mal Deutsch," she said suddenly. "Es tut mir furchtbar weh, immer Englisch zu hören!" Quick as a flash Hannah's head came up, and she laughed a delicious laugh.
Von Hartrott wished to protect his uncle and began tracing on the wall near the door: "Bitte, nicht plundern. Es sind freundliche Leute." In response to the old man's repeated questions, he then translated the inscription. "It means, 'Please do not sack this house. Its occupants are kind people . . . friendly people." Ah, no! . . . Desnoyers repelled this protection vehemently.
"Bitte, bitte," said Cacilie, with a rapid intake of the breath. "I won't listen to anything against him." "But it's not serious?" gasped Frau Erlin. "I love him. I love him. I love him." "Gott im Himmel!"
But the Portier was keen, and Rosa was a niece of his wife and talked more than she should. He refused the tip with a gesture. "Bitte, Fraulein!" he said through the bandage. "It is for me a pleasure to admit you. And perhaps if the Fraulein is cold, a basin of soup." The Portier was not pleasant to the eye. His nightshirt was open over his hairy chest and his feet were bare to the stone floor.
He turned around and saw the face of his friend the Dreamer, the Brushwood Boy, with his bright eyes and disheveled hair. And beside him was the radiant presence of the Girl Who Understood. "Lieber Meister," said the Boy, "you are coming now with us. There is a bite and a sup, and a pipe and an open fire, waiting for you in our room and I have a story to read you. Bitte komm!"
"The mischief is done." Dr. Gates looked up at him. "I'm in love with you myself, Peter!" she said gratefully. "Perhaps it is the tie. Did you ever eat such a meal?" A very pale and dispirited Harmony it was who bathed her eyes in cold water that evening and obeyed little Olga's "Bitte sum speisen."
On the other side of the waystood a pretty young flower- girl who was waiting for the elegant lady hurrying in her direction. "Bitte, gnadige Frau." Here is another, thought the hunted creature. She looked round for help, she flew up the street, away, away when another lady popped up right in front of her, evidently trying to catch her eye.
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