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The blighter once cross-examined me in a card-sharping case and made me look the biggest damned fool in Europe. Did I rest on my laurels eh, what? Why, sir, he can't cross a race-course now without having his pocket picked. My doing, my immortal achievement. The little Countess next door used to do stunts at the Nouveau Cirque. Lord Saxe-Holt married her when he was hazy and is taming her.
Men under the irrefragable compulsion of a common spell, who are selected for sacrifice in the fervour of a general obsession, but who are cooly awake to the unreason which locks the minds of their fellows, will burst into fury at the bond they feel. The obvious obstruction is the obstinate "blighter" with a machine-gun in front of them. At least, they are free to "strafe" him.
What a bit of luck!" He glanced over his shoulder warily. "Has that blighter pipped?" "Pipped?" "Popped," explained Ginger. "I mean to say, he isn't coming back or any rot like that, is he?" "Mr. Carmyle? No, he has gone." "Sound egg!" said Ginger with satisfaction. "For a moment, when I saw you yarning away together, I thought he might be with your party.
You'd have thought anyone would have let it go at that, but would old Scrymgeour? Not a bit of it! Of all the poisonous..." "Yes, I know. Go on." "Well, the thing ended in the blighter hauling him out from under the chair and getting more and more shirty, until finally he laid into him with a stick. That is to say," said Ginger, coldly accurate, "he started laying into him with a stick."
Lispeth used to slate me sometimes for my nastiness. She called me 'a jealous blighter, and so I was! The girl of your fancy is a great deal nicer than I am, or ever can be, but I'll try to live up to her as well as I can, Bess, if you'll let me!" "Let you!" echoed Bess, linking her arm affectionately in that of her friend. "You're a perfect dear nowadays."
"But this is most interesting how did you get separated, you and de Lorgnes?" "Bad luck, a black night, and I guess there's no more question about this your friend, Popinot-Dupont. I'll say this for that blighter: as a self-made spoil-sport, he sure did give service!" Phinuit gave his whiskey and soda a reminiscent grin. "And we thought we were being bright, at that!
In an instant he was on his feet, and running like a rabbit, at the same time giving vent to a series of sharp yelps like a beaten puppy. 'The blighter! He was shamming! roared Roy, darting off in pursuit, regardless of the bullets. 'It was a bullet woke him up anyhow, exclaimed Dave, as he scurried after. The Prussian was beside himself with pain.
The bounder ought to be in jail instead of giving dinner-parties. Imagine Doris eating in that house!" "Ay! Sweetbreads an' saddle o' lamb," interjected Hobbs with the air of one imparting a secret. Elkin was pallid with wrath. He glared at Hobbs. "What I had in my mind was the impudence of the blighter," he said shrilly.
It wasn't until after he'd left that the superintendent he sees a note on the chair where the blighter had been sitting, and when he opened it, there it was in black and white, something like this: "The list of presents that have been sent for the wedding to-morrow of Sir Horace Wyvern's eldest daughter make interesting reading, particularly that part which describes the jewels sent no doubt as a tribute to her father's position as the greatest brain specialist in the world from the Austrian Court and the Continental principalities.
I 'ave two kiddies at 'ome, sir, and I couldn't 'elp feeling sorry for him. Then he said as how his old mother had died awhile ago and he'd never see her again. When he started cryin' I was so sorry for him I couldn't stand it any longer, sir. So I killed the poor blighter."
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