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In doing so he necessarily got some on the other hand, and when he had finished washing, both were so white that he went to bed and sent for a physician. Alarm and Pride "Good-Morning, my friend," said Alarm to Pride; "how are you this morning?" "Very tired," replied Pride, seating himself on a stone by the wayside and mopping his steaming brow.
The dancing continued until three o'clock in the morning, when it was quite a squeeze, from the constant arrival of fresh recruits from all the houses in Barbadoes. I must say, that a few bottles of Eau de Cologne thrown about the room would have improved the atmosphere. By this time the heat was terrible, and the mopping of the ladies' faces everlasting.
Yet, as I resumed my seat in the corner of the office, I was conscious of a new element of the uncertain, the underhand, perhaps even the dangerous, in our adventure; and there was now a new picture in my mental gallery, to hang beside that of the wreck under its canopy of sea-birds and of Captain Trent mopping his red brow the picture of a man with a telephone dice-box to his ear, and at the small voice of a single question, struck suddenly as white as ashes.
"George," he gasped, mopping his crimsoned face, "I'll tell you now that we Varicks and you Ormonds must stand out for neutrality in this war. The Butlers mean mischief; they're mad to go to fighting, and that means our common ruin. They'll be here to-night, damn them." "Sir Lupus," I ventured, "we are all kinsmen, the Butlers, the Varicks, and the Ormonds.
She shivered a little, holding him closer, ashamed as yet to look up. Without speech, they stood there for a long minute, holding each other close. Then Hilma pulled away from him, mopping her tear-stained cheeks with the little moist ball of her handkerchief. "What do you say? Is it a go?" demanded Annixter jovially.
"A narrow squeak, that," I said, mopping my face. "A miss is as good as a mile," he observed, and there was a sort of exultation in his voice. He is a born adventurer. He came out into the passage and quickly locked the door behind him. "Now, friend Horace," he said, "if you have anything but toothpicks for matches, we will look for the overcoat, and then we will go upstairs."
At the same moment Spaulding caught Doremus by his medieval collar and shook him until the man's teeth chattered, then he slapped his face and kicked him. "Now, you," he said standing over the panting man, who was mopping his bleeding nose, and holding the electric torch so that it would shine on his own face. "You get out of California, d'you hear?
"And I've dug up the farm!" It was the doctor's turn to stare. "You dug up the farm!" he said blankly. Sick with discouragement Kenny pointed to the will. "Read it," he said bitterly. "Particularly the 'remainder, residue and situate' part." The doctor read and he read slowly. Before he reached the clause in question Kenny was on his feet, mopping his forehead.
Across the arroyo that had narrowed and deepened until it was a canon Andy Green was mopping his face with his handkerchief and studying a bold hump of jumbled bowlders and ledges, evidently considering whether it was worth while toiling up to the top. A little below him, the Native Son was flinging rocks at a rattlesnake with the vicious precision of frank abhorrence.
Daily chamber work and dusting, etc., one and one-half hours per day. Weekly cleaning for house of nine rooms, with halls, stairs, closets, porches, steps, walks, etc., sweeping, dusting, washing windows, mopping, scouring, etc., averaging two hours per day. Door service, waiting on tradesmen, and extras one-half hour per day. Total ten hours per day." "That sounds well.
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