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A word from me, and Richard need fear nothing." "He need fear nothing without that word," said Ruth disdainfully. "Such service as he did Lord Feversham the other night..." "Is soon forgotten," Blake cut in adroitly. "Indeed, 'twill be most convenient to his lordship to forget it. Think you he would care to have it known that 'twas to such a chance he owes the preservation of his army?"
"No sooner had our ships been dispersed to their winter stations, than Tromp appeared with a fleet of more than a hundred sail off the Goodwin Sands. "Admiral Blake, who was still on board the Triumph, on hearing of this, collected all the ships he could get, and stood out of Dover to attack the Dutch.
Never-Fail Blake, from the obscure down-town hotel, into which he crept like a sick hound shunning the light, sent out his call for Elsie Verriner. He sent his messages to many and varied quarters, feeling sure that some groping tentacle of inquiry would eventually come in touch with her. Yet the days dragged by, and no answer came back to him.
Candy only administered twenty-five minims. This is a small dose to have produced the results which followed even in the case of a person so sensitive as Mr. Blake. I think it highly probable that Mr. Candy gave more than he supposed himself to have given knowing, as I do, that he has a keen relish of the pleasures of the table, and that he measured out the laudanum on the birthday, after dinner.
You ought to've remembered that absence makes the heart grow fonder." To better show her contempt, she turned her back on him. He instantly stepped forward beside Blake and began pouring out a glass of the champagne. He smiled suavely, but his eyes narrowed, and his full lower lip twisted askew.
For the amount of money we may have to spend to secure the fifty thousand dollars left by Mr. Hugh Blake, of Emberon, is small, in comparison to the fortune itself. "We must go to Scotland," finished Mr. Sherwood firmly. "And we must start as soon as possible." It seemed to Nan Sherwood that night as though she never could get to sleep. Her mind and imagination worked furiously.
"I believe you will feel sure when you have had a chance to think over all sides of the question," resumed Dorothy, "and to see how much to blame I am. Then you are a typical Harding girl, the right sort to represent the college to Mr. Blake, who seems to be very much interested in knowing what sort of girl Harding turns out." "Oh, no!" demurred Betty. "I'm not the right kind at all."
The gaze of the Frenchman rested on the boys in what Blake said later seemed a peculiar manner. "Well, up to your old spying tricks, I see!" exclaimed Joe, with a sneer he could not forego. "Have you summoned any submarines lately?" A strange look passed over the face of the Frenchman, but he did not reply.
"Your friend Blake?" he repeated. "Old friend camp-mate, chum all over Western America and South Africa. It's he who's entitled to the credit for the rescue of Miss Leslie." "We'll talk about your part later. You'll, of course, call on us," said Mr. Leslie. He fixed his narrowing eyes on Blake. "H'm. So you're Tom Blake the same one." "That's no lie," replied Blake dryly.
Matthew Blake, who might possibly be approachable by a younger branch of the family, with whom he had never any collision. I arrived at his house while the company were breakfasting. After the usual shaking of hands and hearty greetings were over, I was introduced to Sir George Dashwood, a tall and singularly handsome man of about fifty, and his daughter, Lucy Dashwood.
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