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But it's also impossible to hear a voice inside your head, and I know I'm hearing it! Oh, God! Dare I do it? Can I look at him? He's so ugly so unbearably ugly! But how sad. It was a beautiful thing he said to me. What if I do smile? Will he expect me to smile every day? No! I can't do that. Next he'll ask me to come up to the porch and chat. I couldn't bear it. I couldn't!
When an assemblage of allurements such as this stopped on the streets of the town, the young men would come out of the banks and the offices and gather round to chat.
Sparks, who has sent me, or rather whose husband has sent me, two answers to Lord Mahon, which, coming through a country bookseller, have, I suspect, been some months on the way, I cannot help sending it enclosed to you, that I may have a chat with you en passant, the last, I hope, before your arrival.
"After he had erected it over me he stopped to chat a bit, but the conversation bored me, for he could talk of nothing but bill-posting. "'You wouldn't ruin the landscape here, would you? I asked. "'Ruin it! repeated Frisby, nervously. 'It's ruined now; there ain't a place to stick a bill. "'The snipe stick bills in the sand, I said, flippantly. "There was no humor about Frisby.
At that age of vivid impressions and awakening passions, the two sexes are sufficiently thrown together in family life and in general society for all purposes of mutual influence and improvement. Let them chat, walk, sing, dance together, at that period of their lives; but if you wish to make them good scholars, let them study apart.
All then retire to their huts, and with chat and song, and peals of uproarious laughter and abundant horseplay, such as throwing minor articles at one another's heads, smoke and drink till 11 P.M. The scene is "Dovercourt, all speakers and no hearers." The night is still as the grave. and the mewing of a cat, if there were one, would sound like a tiger's scream.
A sixth has eaten his fill, lights a cigarette, and resigns himself to digestion. A seventh has just dropped in, and calls for soup. Number eight, meanwhile, has left the table, and is once more trampling the poor piano under powerful and uncertain fingers. Dinner over, people drop outside to smoke and chat.
The women are especially confidential, inviting us into their homely yet not poverty-stricken kitchens, keeping us as long as they can whilst they chat about their own lives or ask us questions. The beauty, politeness, and clear direct speech of the children, are remarkable. Life here is laborious, but downright want I should say rare.
Meanwhile the Baron made a tour of the yard, taking a lesson in English from the lettering on the various coaches, when, on the hind boot of one, he deciphered the word Cheapside. "Ah, Cheapside!" said he, pulling out his dictionary and turning to the letter C. "Chaste, chat, chaw, cheap, dat be it. Cheap, to be had at a low price small value. Ah!
"He is a chauffeur of moods, but he can make this car hum. He and I had quite a long chat last night after dinner." Mrs. Devar sat up quickly. "After dinner last night!" she gasped. "Yes I ran into him outside the hotel." "At what time?" "About ten o'clock. I came to the lounge, but you had vanished, and the wonderful light on the sea drew me out of doors." "My dear Cynthia!"
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