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"No, he's lost something," said Carl. Peter could only gasp, "The pocketbook with all our money in it it's gone!" For an instant all were too much startled to speak. Carl at last came out with a gruff, "No sense in letting one fellow have all the money. I said so from the first. Look in your other pocket." "I did. It isn't there." "Open your underjacket." Peter obeyed mechanically.
"Take the globule, your excellency, and place it, for greater security, in your pocketbook," said Escrocevitch; "you may even wrap it up in a bit of paper; and keep the sack of gold dust yourself, so that there can be no mistake." Shadursky gladly followed this last piece of advice.
"I'll not forget such a delightful engagement, be sure." Uncle John had his pocketbook out, and now he wadded up some bills and thrust them into the little school teacher's hand. "Drive ahead, Louise," he called. "Good morning, my dear. See you on Thursday." As the vehicle rolled out of the yard and turned into the highway, Ethel unrolled the bills with trembling fingers.
I don't know; upon my word I don't know that the book may not Oh, my tongue! Why don't I keep a guard over my tongue? Are you a father, too? Don't interrupt me. Put yourself in my place, and think of it. Heartless, deceitful, and my daughter. Give me the pocketbook; I want to see which memorandum comes first."
They got into the boat, and Lawry pulled about the spot where the coat had fallen into the water for half an hour without discovering the pocketbook. "I suppose I must give it up," sighed the director. "I'm sure it's not on the water," replied Lawry. "Do you suppose it would sink?" "I don't know; the gentleman in the ferry-boat says it wouldn't."
The card he tore into tiny bits and chewed into a pellet which he tossed over the stone balustrade. Then, with the pocketbook in his hand, he looked about him. There was a pastor's box fastened beside the door. He crowded the telltale book through the opening in the top of this box, and then with a satisfied air ran blithely down the stone steps.
Without her nothing would go straight! She calls you back to give you a paper, a pocketbook, you had forgotten. You don't think of anything, she thinks of everything! You return five hours afterwards to breakfast, between eleven and noon. The chambermaid is at the door, or on the stairs, or on the landing, talking with somebody's valet: she runs in on hearing or seeing you.
I'll look after you as well as I can, where you go, I'll go but we can't be together every second of the time. Don't you think you'd be safer if you handed over your pocketbook to me?" "Right you are!" Mr. Coulson declared, falling a little over on one side. "Take it out of my pocket. Be careful of it now.
The table had fallen half over Dago Jim Jimmie Dale pushed it aside, tore the crushed letter and the pocketbook from the man's hands and felt, with a grim, horrible sort of anxiety, for the other's heartbeat, for the verdict that meant life or death to himself. There was no sign of life the man was dead. Jimmie Dale was on his feet now.
One of them called out, gayly: "Do you wish to find your sweethearts, signori? That isn't the way!" A little farther, Varhely and his adversary encountered a monk with a cowl drawn over his head so that only his eyes could be seen, who, holding out a zinc money-box, demanded 'elemosina', alms for the sick in hospitals. Menko opened his pocketbook, and dropped in the box a dozen pieces of gold.
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