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"Is anything wrong, señor?" questioned Lazaro. "I'm afraid my eyes are going back on me. They're blurry now. I swear I hate to take up wearing spectacles!" Directly he leaned his head on his hand, with his elbow on the table. "I fear you are not feeling well, Señor Scott," said the man of the snowy hair and coal-black eyes. "I'm not," confessed Old Gripper thickly. "Can't understand it.
The little points are all pretty, he thought, and it is the details that count in the long run. How much one could grow to dislike blurry eyebrows and ugly ears, even if a woman had rosy cheeks and golden hair! "Why? Because I should bully you into it. I'm an obstinate kind of creature, and get things by hanging on. Women give in if you worry them long enough.
Along that end of Riverside Drive which is so far up that rents begin to come down, night takes on the aspect of an American Venetian carnival. Steamboats outlined in electric lights pass like phosphorescent phantoms up and down the Hudson River, which reflects with the blurry infidelity of moving waters light for light, deck for deck.
The main street of Hooker's Bend is only a block long, and the two negroes could easily hear the loud laughter of men hurrying to the focus of interest and the blurry expostulations of negro voices. The laughter spread like a contagion.
Come down alonga town have spell." "But you belong to Fraser Island mission station!" "Yis, me bin alonga that place." "Why you no stop? That very good place." "Nahr! No blurry good." "You get plenty tucker plenty everything that place!" This provoked a trailing exclamation of dissent and disgust. "N-a-hr! Blenty ask it no get 'em. Dinner-time tell it gib it daily-bread.
She could not distinguish their eyes. They were a blurry theater-audience before which she self-consciously enacted the comedy of being the Clever Little Bride of Doc Kennicott: "These-here celebrated Open Spaces, that's what I'm going out for. I'll never read anything but the sporting-page again. Will converted me on our Colorado trip.
Of course it was something of a chance because Corkery had been giving them steady employment. Still it wasn't a very big chance because there was always work for such men. I watched anxiously to see how they would take it. I felt that the truth of my theories were having their hardest test. When they let out a cheer and started towards me in a mass I saw blurry.
He was coming to her reference to Cowperwood, but he hadn't reached that when Mrs. Butler interfered. She was a stout, broad-faced woman, smiling-mouthed most of the time, with blurry, gray Irish eyes, and a touch of red in her hair, now modified by grayness. Her cheek, below the mouth, on the left side, was sharply accented by a large wen. "Children! children!" Come now.
A meeting between a steamer smartly captained and a sailing boat steered by a smart black boy familiar with the rules of the road at sea was taking place. The steamer having too much way on, the boat narrowly escaped being run down. "Why didn't you keep out of the road," yelled the captain, "Why do you let the nigger steer?" Tom in reply, "Why you no luff up? You got blurry steamer, I no got 'em!"
He was staring at her with unconscious steadiness, and now his face took on a slow faint smile, which she was very far from understanding. Blurry as it all still was, light was beginning to break through upon him. Of course, that was all that Mr. Higginson had told her. Of course.
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