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The habit of wealth had not been so well acquired that she could realise that she also could have a beautiful house if she wished she thought of that later. Nor did she expect to find Jean Briggerland there, and Mr. Briggerland too, sitting on a big cane chair on the veranda overlooking the sea and smoking a cigar of peace. Mrs.
You're wanted as a witness. Never mind why. They'll tell you. The doctor is there, smoking a cigar till you turn up." "I left him at Joe Bland's." "Joe Bland has left Boxton for Kingdom Come. And The Towers is half burnt down. Things haven't been happening while you were away, have they?" "Not half," said Tom. "No, nor quarter," grinned the policeman to himself when the car moved on.
Wishing to recover it before it should do any damage, he leaned over and looked under the divan. The cigar was not in sight, so he rose and pulled the lounge out, a move which revealed to him the little lamb still standing where Vesta had dropped it. He picked it up, turning it over and over, and wondering how it had come there. A lamb!
Therefore I say to you, first, this was his cigar; second, it was the last one he had; third, he is a confirmed smoker. The result, he has gone to the one place in the world where these Connecticut hand- rolled Havana cigars for I recognize this as one of them have a real popularity, and are therefore more certainly obtainable, and that is at London.
He was urged to leave the yard, and change his dress, or at least dry himself; but with his usual disregard of health, he replied, “Oh, never mind me—I’m quite used to this sort of thing;” and he went paddling about in the mud, smoking his cigar, until almost dark, when the day’s work was brought to an end.
And, never certain that this was healthy, he did not care a rap so long as he could see the pictures of the one or hear the music of the other. Irene sat down at the piano under the electric lamp festooned with pearl-grey, and old Jolyon, in an armchair, whence he could see her, crossed his legs and drew slowly at his cigar.
Other side of Big Run? Howard nodded. 'Who found it? 'I did, answered Longstreet. 'Yesterday. 'Last Ridge country, then. H'm. He rolled his cigar in his mouth idly. Then he sat bolt upright and leaned forward. 'How many people have you told about it already? A dozen? It was little less than accusation, and Longstreet flushed.
"H'm!" mused Kennedy as he flicked the ashes off his cigar and meditatively watched a passing freight-train on the railroad below us. "There goes a car loaded with tons and tons of scrap iron. You want me to scrap that three-inch steel door, do you?" "Kennedy, I'll buy that particular scrap from you at almost its weight in gold.
"A very warm evening, colonel," said one of the rebels, fanning himself with his hat. "Very," answered the guerrilla chief, gently moving his wounded arm, little dreaming that the one who gave him that wound was at that very moment lying behind the bushes into which he had just thrown the stump of his cigar. "It's very warm.
And then, with a round of milk punch, another cigar apiece, and a little more chat, the party broke up. Bertram and Harcourt remained together, and Bertram endeavoured to induce Wilkinson to stay with them. He, however, wished to be alone, and got home to his college by himself. "You always overrated that man," said Harcourt. "I think not; but time will show.
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