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Updated: August 7, 2024
Mary V could not have kept the exasperation out of her voice if she had tried. Sudden's lips quirked with the beginning of a smile. He looked at the end of his cigar, looked toward the bunk house, scraped off the cigar's ash collar on the porch rail, looked at Mary V. "Well, he asked me how it got here to the ranch, and I told him with a wagon and team and so on.
"Come; my cigar's gone out, and it never was good for much; let's go in and try the cards, and talk about things; perhaps you'll think of something more about the Bellamys. You said that my grandfather had a classmate" Mrs.
Though the Baron di Piombo displeased mere courtiers, he had the Darus, Drouots, and Carnots with him as friends. As for the rest of the politicians, he cared not a whiff of his cigar's smoke for them, especially since Waterloo.
"I wonder if I care any thing about you?" he said at length, leering at her through the cigar-smoke. "I don't think you do," she answered, meekly. "But my my dear Mrs. Jones the su-superb Mrs. Delilah Jo-Jones ought to be sure that I do. Here, bring me a light: that dam dam cigar's gone out." She rose quietly and carried the candle to Abel.
Fosdick, I don't want you to think I ain't polite or won't talk, myself. I'll do my share when the time comes. But it does seem to me that you ought to do yours first as it's your family so far that's done the objectin'. . . . Your cigar's gone out. Have another light, won't you?" The visitor shook his head.
With trembling fingers he took the cigar the gambler handed him. "Now light up," said Gilmore. He watched Langham strike a match, watched his shaking hands as he brought its flame to the cigar's end. "That's better," he said as the first puff of smoke left Langham's colorless lips. "So you think you want to know what I mean, eh?
Jones managed to gasp the one word, "No." "Buz-z-zz," went the bell. "George, make out an annual for Mr. Jones, Comp. Jones steadied himself by resting an elbow on the top of the Manager's desk. The chief engineer was writing in a little note-book. "Now, Mr. Jones ah, your cigar's out! how much is this ten acres to cost us? a thousand dollars, I believe you told Mr. Rong."
"I'm no penny-pincher," he muttered, thinking of the cigar's cost. He tilted the cigar to a fearless angle and slanted his hat over his left eye. He lolled against the cigar-case, gathering resolution for the ordeal. The door of an elevator down the corridor shot open, and there emerged, in single file, a procession, headed by the little oldest director, who had allowed him to go free overnight.
"Morris," said the enemy, "you've done for me, my boy." "Won't she go by your side on the party?" asked the Prime Minister. "She will not," admitted the hostile power. "So you may as well trot out Miss Blake and begin to collect my eleven cents. For, though you may not have discovered it and there be those who doubt it a ten-cent cigar's a smoke."
'A cigar's all very well, put in Sitnikov, who by now was lolling in an armchair, his legs in the air; 'but give us some lunch. We're awfully hungry; and tell them to bring us up a little bottle of champagne. 'Sybarite, commented Evdoksya, and she laughed. 'I like comfort in life, Sitnikov brought out, with dignity. 'That does not prevent my being a Liberal.
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