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Foo! what a charming boy!" Here Raskolnikov broke into a nervous laugh right in Zametov's face. The latter drew back, more amazed than offended. "Foo! how strange you are!" Zametov repeated very seriously. "I can't help thinking you are still delirious." "I am delirious? You are fibbing, my cock-sparrow! So I am strange? You find me curious, do you?" "Yes, curious."
Did she tell you what happened the other day?" But Father does not know anything about my pretended headache, but only that I wanted so much to see Mother alone. He was awfully kind and kissed and petted me, saying: "You are a dear little thing, little witch, I hope you always will be." But I got away as quick as I could, for I felt so ashamed because of my fibbing.
"She's an Evringham, an Evringham!" he said. "You may laugh, sir, but what do you think of her wheedling me into sending Zeke up, and then getting him off on the sly with that telegram? I faced him down with it to-night, and Zeke isn't any good at fibbing." "I'll be hanged if I don't think it was a pretty good thing for me," rejoined Mr. Evringham, "and money in my pocket.
Nine times did I whip my Steve to cure him of fibbing, and over and over again did Mac go without his dinner rather than wash his hands. But I whipped and starved them both into obedience, and now I have my reward," concluded the "stern parent" with a proud wave of the fan, which looked very like a ferule, being as big, hard, and uncompromising as such an article could be. Mrs.
Whether he thinks of La R. is unknown to the writer. He dines with me on Monday. If you had one particle of invention or genius, you would have taught A. B. A. his a, b, c before this. God mend you. His fibbing is an inheritance, which pride, an inheritance, will cure. His mother went through that process. Adieu. New-York, April 3, 1804.
Ben rushed, and had an emollient; spouted again and was corked; again, and received a neat red-waxen stopper. He would not be denied at Kit's door, found him at home and hugged him. Kit got himself to grass, after a spell of heavy fibbing, Ben's game. It did him no great harm; it might be taken for an enlivener; he was dead on his favourite spot the ensuing round, played postman on it.
"No, I didn't," she said. He thought she was fibbing out of sheer naughtiness. But she was not. She did not know that he collected rents. She knew that he was a card, a figure, a celebrity; and that was all. It is strange how the knowledge of even the cleverest woman will confine itself to certain fields. "Yes," he said, always in a cold, commercial tone, "I collect rents."
But her intention being to speak to Willoughby without subterfuge, she was grateful to her companion for not tempting her to swerve. No one could doubt his talent for elegant fibbing, and she was in the humour both to admire and adopt the art, so she was glad to be rescued from herself.
"Aren't you going to forgive me?" he asked, quietly, after a time. Sofia withdrew a pensive gaze from the ruddy bed of coals. "For what?" "You were kind enough to call it merely fibbing." "I'm still thinking about that." In fact, she had been thinking of nothing else. There was so much to be considered. Imprimis, that Karslake had been guilty of practising a deception upon her father.
She could have gone on for hours, just like that without a pause, and without once tiring. "Why, you dance beautifully!" exclaimed Mr. Bennet, when the music stopped. "I verily believe," very softly, "that you were fibbing when you said you had danced so little!" She looked up at him shyly, from under her long lashes, and blushed just a bit. "That was you.
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