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He wanted to say "handwriting", but his wits would no longer work even sufficiently to supply him with the word. Feeling an utter fool, and hating Mr. Jordan, he turned desperately to the paper again. "'Sir, Please send me' er er I can't tell the er 'two pairs gris fil bas grey thread stockings' er er 'sans without' er I can't tell the words er 'doigts fingers' er I can't tell the "
And he afterwards quotes from Weitbrecht, who had "observé dans un cas l'absence simultanée aux deux mains et aux deux pieds, de quelques doigts, de quelques metacarpiens et metatarsiens, enfin de quelques os du carpe et du tarse." P.t. Pronator teres. F.s. Flexor sublimis digitorum. F.p. Flexor profundus digitorum. F.l.p.
She looked at him with her bright blue eyes full of love and joy. "I think you'll like it," she said. "'Doigts' does mean 'fingers', mother, and it was the writing. I couldn't read the writing." "Never mind, my boy. I'm sure he'll be all right, and you won't see much of him. Wasn't that first young fellow nice? I'm sure you'll like them." "But wasn't Mr. Jordan common, mother? Does he own it all?"
He has finished school now." "He would live in Bestwood?" "Yes; but he could be in at the station at quarter to eight." "H'm!" It ended by Paul's being engaged as junior spiral clerk at eight shillings a week. The boy did not open his mouth to say another word, after having insisted that "doigts" meant "fingers". He followed his mother down the stairs.
"Et plus ta main avare épuise leurs mammelles Plus la douce ambroisie entre tes doigts ruisselle." Some are lying down to lighten their load; and some, with an air of patient expectancy, turn their heads towards an "osteria cacinante" opposite, knowing that so soon as their drover has finished his own cold broccoli breakfast, he will come out to accompany them into Rome to disperse theirs.
"Ce sont des fleurs etranges, Et traitresses, avec leurs airs de sceptres d'anges, De thyrses lumineux pour doigts de seraphins, Leurs parfums sont trop forts, tout ensemble, et trop fins." "It is strange," she thought, "that I should have corresponded so many months with 'Gys Grandit' through my admiration for his books and that he should turn out to be the son of poor Abbe Vergniaud! Cyrillon!
Un mot de ma façon vaut un ample discours. J'ai sous Louis le Grand commencé d'avoir cours, Mince, long, plat, étroit, d'une étoffe peu forte. "Les doigts les moins savants me taillent de la sorte; Sous mille noms divers je parais tous les jours; Aux valets étourdis je suis d'un grand secours. Le Louvre ne voit point ma figure
The binding was of citron-green leather, with a design of gilt trellis-work and dotted pomegranates. It had been given to him by Adrian Singleton. As he turned over the pages his eye fell on the poem about the hand of Lacenaire, the cold yellow hand "du supplice encore mal lavée," with its downy red hairs and its "doigts de faune."
It had been given to him by Adrian Singleton. As he turned over the pages his eye fell on the poem about the hand of Lacenaire, the cold yellow hand "du supplice encore mal lavee," with its downy red hairs and its "doigts de faune."
The binding was of citron-green leather, with a design of gilt trellis-work and dotted pomegranates. It had been given to him by Adrian Singleton. As he turned over the pages, his eye fell on the poem about the hand of Lacenaire, the cold yellow hand "du supplice encore mal lavee," with its downy red hairs and its "doigts de faune."
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