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This he sipped slowly and thoughtfully, as if the enormity of the crime had quite appalled him. Mason was no longer a "rough diamond," but an example of what a "Western training will sometimes do for a man," he whispered under his breath to Crossbin.
The three men sat round and sipped the steaming liquor, the two brothers vying with each other in their praises of Victor's skill in the "brew." The first glass was drunk with much appreciation. Over the second came a dallying. Nick, experiencing the influence of the spirit, asked for a tune on the fiddle.
It did! Light slowly dawned. "Then these were scanning our subs! But I still don't see why it would be any problem to find them. The subs must have equipment that will tell when sonar beams hit them." "They do. And that's a big part of the story." Steve sipped his coffee for a moment. "These sonar devices are a new type, and very cleverly designed. They don't send out a continuous beam.
"And if ever there was a prettier compliment, or a finer instance of even Colonial hospitality, I can only say, Bunny, that I never heard of either." He sipped his whiskey, threw away the stump of his cigarette, and lit another before continuing.
Then Man solicitously moved nearer to him and, speaking cheerily still, "Come, come," he said again, "you must not resent defeat." And still Death was gloomy and cross and sipped at his infamous wine and would not look up at Man and would not be companionable.
There will be a siege, and a long one. Are you and Mademoiselle and I going to sit it out in the Frauengasse together?" "We shall be honoured to have you as our guest," answered Sebastian, with that levity which went before the Revolution, and was never understood of the people. Barlasch did not understand it. He glanced doubtfully at his companion, and sipped his beer.
While she sipped the toddy Johnnie brought from the kitchen a tray upon which were tea, fried potatoes, ham, eggs, and buttered toast. The girl ate ravenously. It was an easy guess that she had not before tasted food that day. Clay kept up a flow of talk, mostly about Johnnie's culinary triumphs. Meanwhile he made up a bed on the couch. Once she looked up at him, her throat swollen with emotion.
The waiter came in with fruit and pastry. Emil put some dates and a bunch of grapes on a plate for Bertha. "Why don't you say something?" she asked. "Why do you leave me to do all the talking? And you know you could tell me so much!" He slowly sipped the wine. "Why, yes, about your tours." "Good Heavens, one town is just like all the others.
Presently these adjourned in procession to the Parlour, a big room, comfortably panelled, opening off the Hall, where the same party sat round the fire at little tables, sipped a glass of port, and went on to coffee and cigarettes, while the talk became more general.
Agostino smoked his loosely-rolled cigarettes, and Vittoria sipped chocolate and looked upward to the summit of Motterone, with many thoughts and images in her mind. He commenced by giving her a love-message from Carlo. "Hold fast to it that he means it: conduct is never a straight index where the heart's involved," said the chuckling old man; "or it is not in times like ours.
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