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The fact that everybody thinks it's wrong wouldn't necessarily make it so, would it?" He was ignoring completely the significance of everybody as a reflection of those principles which govern the universe. "No-o-o," ventured Angela doubtfully. "Listen," went on Eugene. "Everybody in Constantinople believes that Mahomet is the Prophet of God. That doesn't make him so, does it?" "No."
Riley turned with sudden fervor. "Good cayre! Mr. Ristofalo," she exclaimed, lifting her free hand and touching her bosom with the points of her fingers, "ye don't know the hairt of a woman, surr! No-o-o, surr! It's love we wants! 'The hairt as has trooly loved nivver furgits, but as trooly loves ahn to the tlose!" "Yes," said the Italian; "yes," nodding and ever smiling, "dass aw righ'."
"You could not build a fort in three days!" "'Twas half-built when we came." "Who did that? Is Captain Gillam stealing the Company's furs for Ben?" "No-o-o," drawled Jack thoughtfully, "it aren't that. It are something else, I can't make out. Master Ben keeps firing and firing and firing his guns expecting some one to answer." "The Indians with the pelts," I suggested. "No-o-o," answered Jack.
"Have you seen or heard anything of Elwood?" "No-o-o!" replied Tim, his answer rising and falling in a circumflex through a half-dozen notes of the scale. "Then he is lost!" "What?" fairly shrieked the Irishman. "He is lost in the woods." Howard had little heart to go over the experiences of the afternoon.
"And you don't mean to say that he hasn't brains!" objected Agnes. "No-o-o," admitted Uncle Dan. "I am quite sure that Bobby has brains, but they have not been quite a a well, say solidified, yet. You're not allowed to smoke in this parlor, Bobby. Mrs. Elliston wants a quiet home game of whist; sent me to bring you up."
"But it is impossible " her voice began to break, as if some one were shaking her violently by the shoulders. "Oh no, no! You w-ill n-ot no-o-o!" The sound grew more piercing as she went on, and the words were soon lost, as she broke into a violent fit of hysterical crying. Marietta's anger subsided as her pity for the poor creature increased.
That should be about right for six hundred forty pounds of thrust for, say, six and a half hours; and the distance of the orbit shift was about right. But the direction? "Is Hot Rod pulling us north?" he asked. "No-o-o," came the placid reply. "If it's pulling us south, then why " He stopped himself. Any "why" required inductive reasoning, and of that the Cow was not capable.
Sometimes islands disappear." "I bet the ones in that dessert do all right," laughed Nick Vernon. "You said it!" Pee-wee vociferated with great emphasis. "I'll show you how to make tracking cakes, too, only you can't eat them." "No?" "No-o-o, they're for chipmunks and birds to step on so you can save their footprints. Gee whiz, did you think you could eat them?"
"I haven't a particle of influence with her," said Grace soberly. "You must know that from what I have already told you." "Yes, I do know it," answered Mabel. "Is there any one at Wayne Hall who would be likely to have the right kind of influence?" "No-o-o." Grace shook her head doubtfully. Then she suddenly brightened. "There is one person who might help her.
He looked a bit yellow and granulated and wavering, there in the cruel morning light of the big plate glass windows. Or perhaps it was the contrast he presented with these slim, slick young salesmen. "Well, h'are you to-day, Mr. uh Satterlee? What's the good word?" Mr. Satterlee would not glance up this time. "I'm pretty well. Can't complain." "Good. Good." "Anything I can do for you?" "No-o-o.
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