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You don't believe it? Try and see. Gypsy drowned her sorrow at her mother's departure, in broiling her mutton-chops and cutting her pie, and by the time the coach drove to the door, and the travelers stood in the entry with bag and baggage, all ready to start, the smiles had come back to her lips, and the twinkle to her eyes. "Good-bye, father! O-oh, mother Breynton, give me another kiss.
You and your serpents! I'll tell my husband of you, that's what I'll do." "Your WHAT?" roared Mr. Davis, springing to his feet. "My husband. He won't stand any of your nonsense, I can tell you. You'd better go before he comes in." "O-oh," said Mr. Davis, taking a long breath. "Oh, so you been and got married again, 'ave you?
She was still in a fainting condition, but power was vouchsafed her to impart a story which drove him to something like a frenzy of activity. "It's the police," she gasped. "It's it's shooting. They're behind. They're right after me O-oh!" She had fainted again with her last word, and the dead weight in the man's arms became almost unsupportable. But now there was no longer any uncertainty.
O-oh!" she sniffed, turning up her pretty nose, "isn't that lovely!" She was smelling some odor of flowers blown from a garden. "Yes, I get it too. Geraniums, isn't it? They're blooming here, I see. A day like this sets me crazy." He sat down in his boat and put his oars in place. "Well, I have to go and try my luck for whales. Wouldn't you like to go fishing?"
She set down her watering-pot. "Do you know what I want to say?" she asked. "I want to say, 'Go to blazes! . . . When I said the woman is odious, do you suppose I meant odious to me or to you?" "O-oh!" The Vicar rubbed the back of his head penitently. "I am sorry, Agatha I was thinking of the time she gave you this afternoon."
"O-oh? Can you move your ears, then?" "Yes." By dint of great perseverance, Pelle had acquired that art in the course of the previous summer, so as not to be outdone by Rud. "Then, upon my word, I should like to see it!" exclaimed the clergyman. So Pelle worked his ears industriously backward and forward, and the priest and the school committee and the parents all laughed.
"The Districts at present correspond with the Deaneries in the diocese." "O-oh, indeed? Ha!" "There is worse to come, Mrs Polsue." He laughed frankly. "You asked, 'Who are the local distributors? A present rule of the Association which I beg you to believe that I regret provides for two agents in each parish, to report and advise on cases: the Parson, and one of the Guardians."
So there's not need for you callin' again, if you don't mind." He said it firmly, yet quite respectfully. One or two of the women in the porch murmured approval. Not so Mrs Climoe. "O-oh!" said Mrs Climoe, half aloud and all unheeded for the moment. "So that's the way the wind blows, sure enough!"
"Which o' you gents will begin dis pullin'?" he called. "Now, sahs, come on." Pink pushed his horse towards the edge of the crowd, but he was hailed with dissuasive cries. "Aw, hold on, Pink." "Don' be so bigoty." "Who you-all think ye are?" "Where's Bob Morgan?" "Yes, Bob's the feller!" "O-oh, Bob!" It was their tribute to the Doctor, this giving precedence to his son, and Bob so understood it.
Prothero coloured brightly. "She lives in London." "All the year?" "All the year." "But isn't it dreadfully hot in town in the summer?" Prothero had an uncomfortable sense of being very red in the face. This kept him red. "We're suburban people," he said. "But I thought isn't there the seaside?" "My mother has a business," said Prothero, redder than ever. "O-oh!" said Lady Marayne.
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