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The airs were as wild as they were melodious; here a rippling torrent of ra, ra, ra-ra-ra, and la, la, la-la-la breaking in on the sustained verses of the leaders; falsetto notes, high and strident, savage and shrilling, piercing the thrumming diapason of the men; long, droning tones like bagpipes, bubbling sounds like water flowing; and all in perfect time.

They heard the shutter of the watch-tower below them thrown back with a clang, and the voice of the watcher calling, "Oh, Hafiz Ullah!" The echoes took up the call, "La-la-la!" and an answer came from the watch-tower hidden round the curve of the hill, "What is it, Shahbaz Khan?" Shahbaz Khan replied in the high-pitched voice of the mountaineer: "Hast thou seen?" The answer came back: "Yes.

The echoes took up the call, 'La-la-la! And an answer came from the watch-tower hidden round the curve of the hill, 'What is it, Shahbaz Khan? Shahbaz Khan replied in the high-pitched voice of the mountaineer: 'Hast thou seen? The answer came back: 'Yes. God deliver us from all evil spirits! There was a pause, and then: 'Hafiz Ullah, I am alone! Come to me!

He had the aspect of one wakes from a dreadful dream. "Childrun!" he whispered brokenly. "Childrun! If yoll please, once more. Act One, Opening Chorus. Come! La-la-la!" "La-la-la!" chanted the subdued members of the ensemble.

She peered into the paper, threw up her head and piped a note or two, for all the world as a bird chirrups, lifting his bill, after taking a drink. "La-la-la you did not understand, hey? But, nevertheless, you came, and of your own will. He did not bring you?" I shook my head again, having no clue to her meaning. "So best," she said, changing her tone of a sudden to one of extreme gravity.

How many careers did it preserve, how many old failures from the wreckage of Kearney Street did it console! Madame Loisel stood at her cash register as the two young men entered. A fresh waist, a ribbon at her throat, a slimness of her waist and an artificial freshness in her complexion showed that she had been parading that afternoon. "Bonsoir Madame la la la-la-la!" called Bertram.

Come now, the opening chorus of act one, and please this time keep on the key. Before, it was sour, sour. Come! La-la-la . . ." "Mr Thalzburg!" "Miss Trevor?" "There was an awfully thweet fox-trot you used to play us. I do wish . . ." "Some other time, some other time! Now we must work. Come! La-la-la . . ." "I wish you could have heard it, girls," said the cherub regretfully.

Less noise and chatter of conversation. We are here to work! We must not waste time! So! Act One, Opening Chorus. Now, all together. La-la-la . . ." "La-la-la . . ." "Tum-tum-tumty-tumty . . ." "Tum-tum-tumty . . ." Mr Saltzburg pressed his hands to his ears in a spasm of pain. "No, no, no! Sour! Sour! Sour! . . . Once again. La-la-la . . ."

"Delancy, you're the limit as a Black Mousquetier and, by the way, there weren't any in the reign of Louis XVI, so perhaps that evens up matters. Dysart is the only man who looks the real thing or would if he'd remove that monocle. As for Bunny and the Pink 'un, they ought to be in vaudeville singing la-la-la."

The captain misunderstands her and gallantly tries one himself, saying, "It holds me, Madam." As he is at least sixteen stone in weight this sends Joyce off into fits of irrepressible giggles, luckily drowned by the band, which is making an ear-splitting noise "La-la-la, la-la-la!" One man bangs an instrument like those called harmonicons, with slats of metal set across it all the way up.