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Del tossed the canister beside him, and the man clutched it as though it were a sack of nuggets. "Can I be of any use?" she asked, looking up at them. "Nope. Scurvy. Nothing'll do 'em any good but God's country and raw potatoes." The pocket-miner regarded her for a moment. "What are you doing here, anyway? Go on back to high ground." But with a groan and a crash, the ice-wall bulged in.
Athelstan continued: "Hang on to Ali Masjid like a leech, old man! The day one raiding lashkar gets command of the Khyber's throat, the others'll all believe they've won the game. Nothing'll stop 'em then! Look out for traps. Smash 'em on sight. But don't follow up too far!" "Sure," said Charles. "Help me with the stain now, will you?"
I just begin 'hoping this finds you well, as it leaves me at present, and then I'm done. What else is there to say?" "Nothing," said Sam, mournfully. "I just sit and scratch my head over the blessed paper, but nothing'll come. Seems as though my head's as empty as a drum." "Same here. 'Tisn't like writing love-letters. When I was up to that game 'twas easy enough.
That is, none of them has ever been caught doing anything downright calamitous ... yet," Melroy replied. "The moron I'm afraid of can go on for years, doing routine work under supervision, and nothing'll happen. Then, some day, he does something on his own lame-brained initiative, and when he does, it's only at the whim of whatever gods there be that the result isn't a wholesale catastrophe.
"It's jolly decent of old Hare to give it to me!" "But it's so far away, Ninian, dear, and if anything were to happen to you!..." "Nothing'll happen to me, mother ... nothing serious anyhow. Heaps of chaps go off to places like that without turning a hair!" "But I've only got you, Ninian!" Mrs. Graham objected. "You've got Mary, too, and I shall come back to you!"
'And what's going on nowadays in old Bosley, Miss Myatt? he asked expansively, trying to drop his American accent and use the dialect. 'Eh, bless us! exclaimed Hannah, startled. 'Nothing ever happens here, Mr. Arthur. He felt that nothing did happen there. 'Same here as elsewhere, said Meshach. 'People living, and getting childer to worry 'em, and dying. Nothing'll cure 'em of it seemingly.
I don't believe in ghosts and yet at times I do believe that this house is haunted. My hair seems to feel the same way. It stands up like stubble in a wheat-field, and one might as well try to brush the one as the other. At this rate nothing'll get done. I'll go to town and see Dr. Bronson. There's something the matter with me." So off Dawson went to town.
And of all damned silly ways of entertaining people, a garden party's the worse! Who wants to look at other people's gardens except to find fault with 'em? Nothing'll keep rain off a garden party except prayers in church during a drought. "What the hell do you expect to gain by it? I know what it all means Buns! Bands! high-heeled kick-shaws cutting up my turf!
"Nothing'll grow right with them here." "Shrubs!" said the Squire, laughing. "You don't call the peacock trees shrubs, do you? Fine tall trees you ought to be proud of them." "Ill weeds grow apace," observed the gardener. "Weeds can grow as houses when somebody plants them." Then he added: "Him that sowed tares in the Bible, Squire."
Would you like your own sister to rise from her death-bed to rob you of everything you have? For, by Heaven! it is robbery nothing less. She's so stiff-necked, that there's no making any arrangement with her. I've tried everything, fair means and foul, and nothing'll do but she must go and marry that low young Kelly so immeasurably beneath her, you know, and of course only scheming for her money.
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