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It may always be observed that when hunting-men speak seriously of their sport, they speak despondingly. Everything is going wrong. Perhaps the same thing may be remarked in other pursuits. Farmers are generally on the verge of ruin. Trade is always bad. The Church is in danger. The House of Lords isn't worth a dozen years' purchase. The throne totters.
Magovern will git out, sur, sez I, 'for this isn't the Washington Market at all. 'It is not, ma'am, sez he, 'but that's where I'll take yez, sez he. 'Sit down, ladies, sez he, 'and pay me the money, sez he. 'I had a great many paple to lave, sez he. An' indade he had, ma'am. An' we paid the money agin, an' we wint down to the bottom o' the city. 'This is not the Washington Market, Mrs.
'A propos of nothing in particular, he said, 'were you at Oxford? 'Yes, said the young man. 'Why do you ask? 'I just wondered if I was right in my guess. It's one of the things you can very often tell about a man, isn't it? 'I suppose so, Marlowe said. 'Well, each of us is marked in one way or another, perhaps. I should have said you were an artist, if I hadn't known it. 'Why?
He would not let her speak for a moment, pressing his lips upon hers. When he released her, she cried in a whisper, "Oh, it's wonderful how when you're close to me everything else just isn't in the world!" "That's being in love, Lydia," Paul told her with a grave thankfulness.
It was the moment of intuition. She had struck deeper into his mind than even he was aware of himself. "What makes you think that?" "What you said." "What did I say?" "You admitted that you were sick of being here alone." "Well ?" She burst out laughing. "Well ?" She turned to the door. "Good Lord! Isn't every blooming man the same!"
"Has she no other name?" said Carrie to Rosalie; "I hear nothing but 'Jennie, Jennie, all the time." "Oh! her mother's name is Dunmore that is, her adopted mother. Her own mother is dead; but isn't it strange, I never thought to ask her what her real name is! You can not help loving her, Carrie, I know.
"I want you to notice that big! black yacht yonder. Isn't she a beauty?" "She is that," replied Grant with enthusiasm. "I can almost make out her name," he added as he looked through the field-glasses. "There it is C-a-l-e-Caledonia," he added quickly.
"My name is Blanche isn't it a pretty name? Call me by it." "Blanche it is very pretty, indeed." "And while mamma talks with that kind-looking lady what relation is she to you? She must have been pretty once, but is rather passee; she is not well gantee, but she has a pretty hand and while mamma talks to her, come with me to my own room, my own, own room.
"You've given me to understand I'm responsible for your sudden awakening, that it's because of a regard conceived for me you're so anxious to become an honest man. Suppose ... suppose you were to find out ... you'd been mistaken in me?" "That isn't possible," he objected promptly. She smiled upon him wistfully and leniently from her remote coign of superior intuitive knowledge of human nature.
"It isn't my cot, sir," replied Dodge. "What?" "It, sir, is, sir, not, sir, my, sir, cot, sir." "That has nothing to do with your orders. Turn down that mattress!" Bert obeyed with great alacrity. "Now, then, mister," ordered Yearling Judson, "get up on that mattress, and stand at attention upside down!"
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