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"I g-g-guess he's eat up all my s-s-string; and now he's hunting f-f-f or the can of b-b-bait." He led them into a thick part of the wood. "L-l-look!" whispered Toby, pointing. "It is a bear, as sure as you live!" exclaimed Max. "C-c-course it is," Toby went on; "w-w-what'd you think m-m-made me run? G-g-guess I know a s-s-stump when I see one." Max held the impetuous Steve back.
I k-know n-nothing at my age about such th-th-things. I l-l-live here and l-l-look after the v-v-vines. The vines g-g-grow, and it's the w-w-wine that p-p-pays. L-l-look after the v-v-vintage, t-t-that's my r-r-rule. My c-c-chief interests are at Froidfond. I c-c-can't l-l-leave my h-h-house to m-m-muddle myself with a d-d-devilish b-b-business I kn-know n-n-nothing about.
He lit a cigarette nervously, fumbled with a bunch of keys in his trousers pocket and then, looking at her dirty hands, said: "L-l-look here, old girl. I d-don't w-want to quarrel with you. But I w-want you to f-face things a bit. Y-you s-see you've been used to a class of society quite different from mine. You know look here, I say, I don't want you to go making faux pas."
D-d-don't declare a f-f-failure; c-c-call a meeting; l-l-liquidate; and then Gr-Gr-Grandet will see what he c-c-can do. B-b-better liquidate than l-let the l-l-law st-st-stick its n-n-nose in. Hein? isn't it so?" "Exactly so," said the president. "B-because, don't you see, Monsieur de B-Bonfons, a man must l-l-look b-b-before he l-leaps. If you c-c-can't, you c-c-can't.
"Danny," she says, looking like she is going to cry, "don't l-l-look at me l-l-like that. If you knew ALL you wouldn't blame me. You " "Wouldn't blame you fur what?" I asts her. "I know it's wrong of me," she says, begging-like. "Mebby it is and mebby it ain't," I says. "But what is it?" "But you never wrote to me," she says.
"Y-you sure l-l-look all right, little g-girl," he admitted, slowly, "but I 've h-heard th-th-that feller was hell with w-women. I-I reckon you b-better go b-back to Farnham an' find out." He paused, wiping his perspiring face with the back of his hand, his cheeks reddening painfully under her unfaltering gaze. Finally he blurted out: "Say, w-who are you, anyhow?" "Beth Norvell, an actress."
"Just y-you lie as y-you are I'll l-l-look after you." And flinging himself on his back, Cavendish gripped the other man firmly by the collar, and, kicking out vigorously, towed him along.
"L-l-look out, Dave," he stuttered; "y'-y' got a s-s-snake." Dave dropped the grass promptly. A deaf-adder crawled out of it. Joe killed it. Dave looked closely at his hand, which was all scratches and scars. He looked at it again; then he sat on the beam of the plough, pale and miserable-looking. "D-d-did it bite y', Dave?" No answer. Joe saw a chance to distinguish himself, and took it.
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