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For a surprising while even in the face of Vigne's radiance Arnaud was as still and shadowed as the inert surface of a dammed stream. Then slowly, the slenderest trickle at first, his wit revived his spirit; and he opened an unending mock-solemn attack on Bailey Sandby's eminently serious acceptance of the responsibilities of his allowed love.
Still, I'll trust you, too.... Tiens! added the boatman, 'here we are near the quay. Then with a mock-solemn touch of his cap, 'Will Madame still visit the cemetery? 'Come, quick, let me land, said Madame Bernier, impatiently. 'We have been among the dead, after a fashion, persisted the boatman, as he gave her his hand.
He obeyed, shuffling thither uneasily, and sniffing the rose-fragrant air as he went like an ill-conditioned cur scenting a foe, and seating himself in a high-backed chair, he arranged his garments fussily about him, rolled up his long embroidered sleeves to the elbow, and spread his writing implements all over the desk in front of him with much mock-solemn ostentation.
"To the crime of being a literary man I plead not guilty!" and Julian folded his hands in a kind of mock-solemn appeal "Moreover, I swear never to become one!" "Good boy!" smiled Cicely "Be a modern Pan, and run away from all the literary cliques, kicking up the dust behind you in their faces as you go! Roam the woods in solitude and sing!
The drinkers shout a boisterous refrain after each stanza, and supplement the last with a mock-solemn "Requiescat in pace, Amen."
And Zouche gave a mock-solemn shake of the head; "A wicked science! A great heresy! What are God's Facts to the Church Fallacies? Science proves that there are millions and millions of solar systems, millions and millions of worlds, no doubt inhabited; yet the Church teaches that there is only one Heaven, specially reserved for good Roman Catholics; and that St.
But in their insistence upon this particular minute I had found something so hideously solemn, yet mock-solemn, personal, and as it were addressed to me, that when my own watch dared to point to the same moment, I was thrown into one of those sudden, paroxysmal, panting turmoils of mind, half rage, half horror, which have hardly once visited me since I left the Boreal.
You called me a witch now see me charm it away. Listen! 'Ping, ping, prash, Cur yn cadley-jiargan ass my chass." She was uttering the Manx charm in a mock-solemn ululation when a bough snapped in the orchard, and she cried, "What's that?" "It's Philip. He's waiting under the apple-tree," said Pete. "My goodness me!" said Kate, and down went the window-sash.
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